#if i do a master's in classics i need to brush up on latin and greek... if i do medieval studies i DO need to actually get started on middl

[thebirdandhersong]

My ideal plan after graduation, if I had no limits or setbacks on the financial stuff, and if I were guaranteed a spot in every university I applied to:

2024: working year. to save up for a master's, to get some experience, and to recover from my BA lol

2025: master's number 1 (concentration undecided but location most likely in the UK)

2026: rest and recover... possibly work in Canada, take a course or two at the theological college I live close to right now, spend time with family, write fiction, do some research

2027: start ph D (location unknown)

sometime in the future: a second master's in a different area of literature or in classics :)))

[justthehiddleswrites]

Should… | Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Emma Masters) | Chapter 1| ... We Go To My Room?

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Emma Masters

Summary: Five years ago, Emma Masters just landed her first big acting gig on a soap opera. While it is not much, it is an opportunity to grow. While out celebrating, she meets up with a fellow actor, Tom Hiddleston. While she doesn’t recognize any of his work, the two hit it off. Before they know, they are getting hot and heavy in the elevator up to Tom’s room. Like ships passing in the night, the two never manage to meet again.Now five years later, Emma is a heavy hitter in the prime time drama world and Tom is a Golden Globe winning movie star. Their paths cross again but things have changed. Will they do what they should or fall to their deepest desires?

Warnings: smut, vaginal sex, fingering, drunk sex, oral sex, cheating, unhealthly relationships

-

Five Years Earlier

“Yes, I accept!”

Emma hung up the phone and ducked into a nearby hotel where she knew the bar served half-off appetizers and cheap drinks. A packed bar in the early evening did not bode well. Emma waded through the sea of ill-fitting suits and too-tight shift dresses to reach the bar. She motioned to the bartender who came over to take her order.

“Jack and Seven, please.”

The bartender slid the drink over and she searched for a place to sit. She found a small table in the corner with two chairs. She collapsed into the nearest one and took a big swig of her drink. Emma pulled her phone out and started on a text to her mother with the good news.

“Excuse me, but I believe you took my seat.” a smooth voice with a British accent commented.

She turned to see a tall man smiling behind her. His curly blonde hair gelled in place. She stood to move.

“It’s all right. I’ll take the empty one.”

“Sorry...” Emma paused looking at the man.

“…Thomas, Tom. And you are…?”

“Em…Emma.”

“Em…Emma. Nice to meet you. Mind if I share the table with you? There are only limited options around.”

She nodded. Tom sat down, scooting the chair over to give Emma plenty of room.

“You aren’t from around here, are you?” Emma asked, rolling her eyes at the obvious question.

Tom chuckled.

“What gave it away? The accent?”

“The suit.” Emma said, deadpan and Tom broke out into a full laughter.

“So, what brings you to America, Thomas?” Emma asked as she took a long drink of her whiskey, finishing up what was in the glass. It burned down her throat.

Tom sipped his drink while contemplating the question.

“I’m here to do some interviews on a recent project I did.”

“Oh, what line of work are you in?”

“I’m an actor.”

Emma’s ears perked up.

“Would I have seen you in something?”

Tom almost choked on his drink, not used to having to explain his burgeoning celebrity status.

“I played Loki in the Thor movies and The Avengers.”

Emma stared back, unmoved.

“I don’t watch superhero movies.” Emma’s nose crinkled up at the word “superhero.”

Tom continued, digging into his filmography, stunned that she didn’t know about Loki.

“Only Lovers Left Alive? War Horse? Midnight in Paris?”

“Nope.”

Tom frowned.

“I just finished a run of Coriolanus at the Donmar.”

Emma leaned in.

“Ooh. Shakespeare.”

“You know Coriolanus? I’m impressed.”

“Oh, the Bard and I are on intimate terms. He was the subject of my senior thesis.”

Tom’s eyebrows drew up, and he pulled back.

“Oh! I studied Classics at Cambridge.”

Emma sipped the rest of her drink, already getting tipsy on her empty stomach.

“So Cambridge, can you say something in Latin?”

Tom gulped down the rest of his whiskey for some liquid courage. He unbuttoned his jacket and swooped it back with dramatic flair before leaning close to Emma. Heat radiated off of him like a furnace. She fought the urge to just melt against his broad shoulders. Tom cleared his throat before continuing.

“Omnia vincit amor, et nos cedamus amori.”

Emma raised her glass.

“May we all yield to love.”

Tom raised his now empty glass.

“To love,” they clinked their glasses together. Tom went to drink and realized he finished his drink.

“I think we need more drinks. What was yours?”

“Jack and Seven .”

Tom’s eyes crinkled as he smiled.

“Whiskey. My kind of girl.”

Emma blushed as Tom headed off to the bar. Emma’s stomach flipped. God, he was handsome. After several minutes, he returned two glasses in hand.

“So, are we celebrating or drowning our sorrows?” Tom asked as he handed over the drink.

“Celebrating. I just booked my first big job.”

Tom beamed and brought the glass to his lips.

“Congratulations! What kind of job?”

“Acting.”

Tom spit his drink back into this glass.

“You could have led with that.”

“And miss that spit take? Not a chance.” Emma quipped, openly flirting now.

“What kind of acting job?”

“A minor part on a soap, but there is an opportunity to grow.”

“I wish you well.”

They clinked glasses once again. Two drinks turned to three, which turned to four. Emma and Tom talked about everything from horror stories from the acting trenches to family to hopes and dreams for the future. After the fourth drink, the bartender started giving them the eye.

“I think he wants us to leave.” Emma giggled from both alcohol and giddiness running through her veins. Her smile faded and she let out a breathy sigh as she had to leave.

“We should take this upstairs.”

Emma narrowed her eyes at him.

“Excuse me?”

“You know, take the conversation some place private. Like my hotel room.”

She gulped. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe her good mood, but going up to Tom’s room sounded enticing.

“You know what?” Emma slammed her hands on the table, rattling the glasses, “That is a brilliant idea.”

Tom laughed and the two of them rose to leave the hotel bar. They giggled the entire way through the lobby. Tom rocked back and forth on his feet, waiting for the elevator. Emma sidled up to Tom, fingers brushing up against his. The skin on skin contact sent electricity through Emma’s body. There was more than just alcohol coursing through her veins as she drank in the sight of Tom.

He glanced over and smiled at Emma. Tom marveled at the sight of this woman next to him. Her dark brown hair pulled into a simple ponytail and her casual clothes failed to convey the complex personality underneath. He was drunk and not on whiskey. He wanted to know everything about Emma.

The elevator dinged. Emma stepped in first, pressing herself against the back wall. Tom followed suit, leaning on the wall next to her. The tension in the air was palpable and Tom noticed his collar getting tighter and his palms sweating. As the doors slid closed, Tom leaned in towards Emma.

“Hold the door!” a small voice called out. Startled and flustered, Tom reached out to hit the button and straighten himself up. Emma smiled as she turned her head away. An elderly woman entered the elevator, ladened with shopping bags.

“Hit floor 6 for me, please?” she asked Tom, smiling up at him.

“Certainly, my dear.”

“Are you from England?”

Emma hid her face as she worked to contain her laughter. Tom responded with a smile.

“I am. Wimbledon, in fact.”

“Isn’t that where they play tennis?”

“It is.”

The ding of the elevator interrupted the exchange, and the lady stepped out.

“You two youngsters have a nice evening.”

“Thank you,” Emma added, giving her a little wave.

Once the doors shut door, the two of them burst into laughter. Tom swung around, leaning over Emma’s small frame. He rubbed Emma’s arm, again sending electricity straight to her core. She swallowed hard before gazing up at Tom’s blue eyes.

“Now, where were we?” Tom asked as he pushed even closer.

“You were flirting with that old lady there?” Emma cracked a joke to distract from the butterflies in her stomach.

“Oh, that was not flirting,” Tom smirked, moving his face within inches of Emma’s.

Tom swore he heard her heart beating faster with each passing second.

“It wasn’t?” she squeaked, becoming more anxious.

Emma looked to see there was a way to escape but Tom’s arm caged her against the elevator wall.

“No, flirting requires the interplay of two peoples wants and desires…”

“Desires...” Emma repeated after Tom becoming lost in his words.

“Yes. As they say, it takes two to tango.”

Emma blushed at the thought and Tom took this opportunity to close any remaining distance between them. His lips crashed against hers with a sense of want and lust. Emma’s body softened against him and reciprocated the affection.

Tom sighed against Emma’s lips and she threw her arms around his neck, pulling him closer and deeper. Tom, overcome with lust, pushed his hips into Emma. She moaned as his hardness brushed against her. Tom lost control as he slid his hand down Emma’s side, grazing over her waist, hips, and thighs before hooking his hand behind her knee and lifting it up.

The elevator interrupted their interlude by reaching Tom’s floor. Tom released Emma, and they were both flushed and panting. Emma attempted to straighten herself as the doors opened. Tom grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her down the corridor. Once they reached Tom’s room, he fumbled in his pockets for the key card. After what seemed like an eternity but was mere moments, Tom got the door opened and ushered Emma into the room. The door slammed behind them and Tom wasted no time.

“At last, you are mine,” Tom growled as he attacked Emma’s lips again.

His tongue was insistent and Emma moaned, granting it access. Their tongues explored each other’s mouths. With each passing moment, Emma’s arousal grew more and more. She threw her arms around Tom’s neck, holding on for dear life. Tom placed his hands on both of Emma’s thighs. He lifted her and shoved Emma’s back into the wall.

“Ahh!” she yelped.

“You are intoxicating, love,” Tom growled into Emma’s ear, sending a shiver down her spine.

His words spurred Emma on and she pulled on his jacket, ripping it off his shoulders. Her hands then turned to unbuttoning his shirt. Tom pulled her top off in one motion, exposing her skin to the cold air of the hotel room. Tom moaned in appreciation at Emma’s curves before devouring that sweet spot in the crook of her neck. It was as though that spot connected to her core.

“Tom?” she breathed.

“Yes?”

“Fuck me.”

Tom’s lips curved into a devious smile.

“With pleasure.”

Tom pulled Emma across the room until her back landed onto the soft sheets of the bed. She propped herself on her elbows to watch Tom undress at the end of the bed. He undid the buttons of his shirt and peeled the shirt off, dropping it on the floor. He undid his belt and fly next. Emma licked her lips in anticipation.

“Is someone enjoying the show?” Tom asked as he pulled the belt from the loops at a painstakingly slow pace.

Emma could only nod, not trusting her voice to cooperate. Tom took this as an opportunity to torture her. He lowered his pants, kicking them off behind him. Emma could see the sizable bulge in his boxer briefs. Emma gulped at the thought of him filling her to the hilt. She was gushing. Tom moved to hover over her on the bed. He moved like a jungle cat stalking his prey. He started kissing Emma on her collarbone. She arched her back and unclasped her bra, letting it fall to the side. Tom turned his attention to Emma’s now heaving chest.

He took one of her nipples and sucked with fervor.

“Oh, God!” Emma groaned, and she tangled her hands in his blond curls. This only spurred on Tom as he drew his attention to the other breast, giving it the same treatment, eliciting the same reaction from Emma. She struggled to undo her jeans, when Tom grabbed her hands.

“Allow me.”

With deft hands, Tom made short work on the button and fly of Emma’s jeans. She bucked her hips up to allow Tom to pull them down, taking her underwear with him. She laid there naked as Tom drank in the sight. His eyes hooded with lust, he pressed his chest into hers as he crushed against her lips.

“Perfection,” Tom muttered as his hands raked across her body. As his hands grazed her pubic bone, Emma shifted her legs apart, granting him access to her glistening sex. Tom’s fingers slid up and down her slit, collecting juices along the way.

“So wet for me. So ready,” Tom moaned into Emma’s ear.

With no warning, Tom pushed one long digit into Emma’s pussy and she gasped, digging her nails into his shoulders. Tom chuckled as her walls gripped onto his finger.

“You are so eager to please.”

He pumped his finger in and out at a languid pace, drawing out Emma’s pleasure. Soon, he added a second finger and quickened his pace. His other hand found her clit, drawing tight circles. There was a tightening in her core.

“Oh, yes!” She gasped as Tom curled his fingers inside.

“Come on darling, cum for me,” Tom urged on as he continued to fuck Emma with his fingers.

“Don’t stop!”

Tom continued to finger Emma, curling his fingers while stimulating her clit. Before long, the coil snapped and Emma orgasmed.

“Fuck. Me!” Emma screamed as waves of pleasure washed over her. Tom pulled off his underwear and lined up with her entrance, pushing in to the hilt.

Emma never felt so full in her life. Tom filled every inch of her.

“Oh God, you feel amazing,” Tom exclaimed, and he began to thrust, pushing in balls deep each time.

A second orgasm fast approached and Tom’s hip thrusts grew more and more erratic. Tom cried out as he spilled into her and moments later, she came. The two of them collapsed onto the bed and drifted off to sleep.

-

The next morning, Emma woke to find the bed empty. She rolled over and found the spot still warm. As she still detected him on the pillow, spices and woods. Emma heard the bathroom door open and Tom stepped out, wearing only a towel around his waist.

“Morning.” he said with a smile.

“Morning.” she responded, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

“Um… I guess we should talk.”

Emma blushed.

“Might be a good idea after last night.”

“Yeah, I don’t do that sort of thing. You know… last night… with girls… I mean ladies… I’m a nice guy, I swear.” Tom blabbered about, the last few words squeaking out.

Emma couldn’t help but giggle.

“Nervous much?” It’s fine. I never sleep with someone the first time I meet them either.”

Tom smiled and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“I would like to see you again.” Tom ran his hand up and down Emma’s arm.

There are those shivers again.

“Me too.”

“But I am leaving New York today for London.”

Emma noticed the packed bag by the door. In the heat of passion last night, she had missed it. Emma’s face dropped.

“Oh.”

“But I should be back in three weeks’ time. Can I take you out on a proper date?”

Emma nodded.

“Until then, how about some room service breakfast?” Tom stood to head over to the phone.

Emma’s stomach growled in response.

“I will take that as a yes.” Tom smiled.

He ordered breakfast for two and got dressed while Emma took a shower. She washed her hair before slipping back into the clothes from last night.

“Here.” Tom shoved a shirt in Emma’s face. “In case you don’t want to wear the same shirt again.”

Emma took the shirt and switched out. The shirt smelled of Tom.

“Thanks.”

By this time the food arrived. The two of them ate in a hurry, chatting and exchanging numbers, Tom’s car set to arrive soon. As Emma shoved the last piece into her mouth, Tom’s phone rang.

“I’ll be right down.”

Emma walked out with him. Tom leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.

“Three weeks. It’s a date.”

“It’s a date.”

It wasn’t a date. Emma got busy with her new role, and then sick and they canceled plans. Tom and she her exchanged phone calls, emails, even a few video chats. But never met in person again.

As the weeks turned to months, the texts became more scarce. Both their careers continued to prosper, Tom with a Golden Globe performance as Jonathan Pine and Emma translated a few Daytime Emmy wins into starring in a prime time drama. After 18 months, the texts stopped altogether. Emma forgot about the one-night stand.

Present Day

“Em?” a familiar voice rang out across the L.A. restaurant.

Emma looked around for the source. It couldn’t be a fan, no one called her “Em” anymore. She saw a man with unruly ginger curls wearing a tailored suit, making a beeline towards her. Her eyes widened and her heart jumped into her throat. All the memories of that night rushed back to her like a tidal wave.

“Is that who I think it is?” Corrine, Emma’s friend asked, tugging on her arm.

The man reached her table and Emma rose to her feet, gripping the table for support.

“I can’t believe it is you, Em!” he pulled her into a big bear hug. He still smelled of spices and woods.

“Tom!” Emma pulled from the embrace, looking him over. “Nice beard.”

Tom chuckled as he rubbed his hand through the whiskers. The two of them stared at one another for what seemed an eternity. Corrine cleared her throat and Emma jumped at the sound.

“So sorry! Corrine, Tom Hiddleston. Tom, Corrine Saunders, my friend and former publicist.”

“Charmed.“ Corrine cooed as she extended her hand palm down.

Tom gave a nervous chuckle before giving it an anemic shake.

“So Tom,” Corrine started in. “How in the hell do you know our little Emma over here? She’s never mentioned you before.”

Emma’s face flushed as the color drained from Tom’s. They exchanged knowing looks before Tom cleared his throat.

“Well, it is a funny story.” Tom started as he pulled on his collar.

Emma wasn’t laughing.

[swlbarnes]

Self Care Isn’t Selfish - Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: Sam refuses to take care of himself, so you finally decide to intervene.

Pairing: (established) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word count: ~2.2k

Warnings: classic winchester refusal of self care and rest, fluff fluff and more fluff

A/N: basically I like to mess around on ambient mixer and I ended up making an atmosphere for getting some rest with sammy. this is the quick lil result of me listening to that while writing! For best results with this oneshot, pls CLICK HERE to listen to the atmosphere while you read! Headphones recommended :) ALSO i should say! thank you so much for 100 followers!! thank u thank u thank u!

All it took was one more yawn from Sam for you to make up your mind. Just one.

For days now you had watched the younger Winchester continue to push himself past his limits. The hunts had been nonstop for weeks now as Sam repeatedly threw himself into his work with no mind for his own well being. Only within the past two weeks had you noticed the biggest changes, specifically in his sleeping and dietary habits. Your shared bed with the man had become too large as of late, too cold in his absence night after night. Each time you would wake up and find the other side of the bed empty, you would pad out the door and down to the library, where you would always find Sam with his face buried in another old lore book. Your pleas for him to come back to bed with you were always brushed off as if they were nothing, him constantly insisting that he was okay and he was getting enough rest.

“I’m fine,” he would insist, the slur of his words a clear indication of his drowsy state. “I’m a hunter, I’ve worked on less sleep than this before.”

He was lying. You knew it, Dean knew it, Castiel knew it, and surely Sam himself knew it. What was causing him to act this way you couldn’t say for sure, but whatever it was, you wanted to stop it in its tracks. His newfound habits were taking quite the toll on him both physically and mentally. Yourself and the Winchester brothers weren’t exactly known for having the most well rested faces in the world, but the dark circles taking residence under Sam’s eyes were worrying even to you. His body slumped far more than it usually did, and his boot clad feet could be heard dragging against the library floor all the way from the kitchen. His usually well kept hair lost its style days ago, instead now poking out every which way from atop his drooping head.

Sam’s finger trailed over the faded Latin text lazily. His eyes were hazy and unfocused, squinting and squeezing shut every few seconds as if to clear the film of exhaustion away. One hand rested against his forehead, arm crooked at the elbow and leaning on the table to hold his head up. You watched in frustration as his eyes drifted closed every few minutes before snapping back open with a start. You turned your attention to the older of the brothers to find that he, too, had a scowl forming on his lips at the sight. This was how you knew that it was surely getting bad; if Dean Winchester, the master of self care avoidance, was judging your self care habits, then you had a problem. Sam was to that point.

Your boyfriend’s mouth opened wide in yet another yawn, and that was the final straw that had you standing up abruptly. The distinct screech of chair legs across the bunker floor caused Sam’s head to snap upwards to look at you in confusion. You made your way over to the plaid flannel clad man in a few quick strides, stopping next to him to grab the book from his hands.

“Hey!” He cried out, his hands reaching for the tome but the rest of his body making no move to pursue it further. “I need that, I was researching!”

You gave him a simple shake of your head as you snatched his notes from the table top as well, stuffing them into the book to mark his page before closing it and placing it on the table behind you, just out of his reach. You crossed your arms across your chest and leaned against the dark wooden surface. “No way I’m giving you that book back, Sam.”

“Well, why not? We have work to do. I can’t exactly work without that book,” he argued, arms crossing over his chest as well to mirror your stance. Your eyes rolled up at the ceiling in frustration.

“Yeah, about that. No, you’re not gonna work on this. We,” you paused to motion your hand between yourself and Dean, “are going to finish this up. Cas too. You, however, are going to get some rest. I’m sick and tired of watching you push yourself like this when you’re clearly suffering. We can handle this, I promise. Just focus on taking care of yourself.”

Your insistent tone did little to coerce the stubborn man into taking a well deserved break. His eyes flickered back and forth between you and his brother. Dean returned his gaze with a look that absolutely screamed for Sam to agree to the arrangement and get some sleep, but this, too, didn’t get through to him.

Sam shook his head. “I can’t. I can’t leave you three to work on this all alone. You guys are tired too. I’ve been doing this my whole life, I can handle it,” he insisted. He reached behind you to grab his book back, only for you to press your hand down over the cover and slide the volume across the table to Dean, who anticipated this action and caught it without glancing away from his notes. You turned back to Sam with a triumphant smile. The expression he met you with was far from impressed.

“Seriously?” He deadpanned. You quirked a brow.

“Seriously.”

Silence settled over the library for a moment as the pair of you continued to stare each other down. No one dared to break the moment until the familiar flutter of wings interrupted your stare off. “Dean, I was wondering if you- oh,” Castiel’s deep timbre paused momentarily as his eyes settled on you and Sam, or, more particularly, Sam’s hunched over form. The seraph furrowed his brows at the sight. “Why is Sam still here?” His question was abrupt and to the point, as things usually were when coming from the angel’s mouth, but it was valid nonetheless.

Sam threw his hands in the air in exasperation. “Seriously?” He clamored, brows knit together by an invisible thread of frustration. “Why does everyone keep insisting I shouldn’t be working? I am perfectly fine!” His exclamation was punctuated quite indicatively by the all encompassing yawn his mouth formed directly after he finished speaking. Tears pricked in the corners of his eyes from the reflex, and once he cleared his vision, he was met with three sets of unimpressed eyes. A scowl formed on his face, and he found himself shaking his head dismissively once again. “Whatever. That was nothing. You just got it in my head, that’s all!”

You scoffed and brought a hand down on his shoulder to gain his attention. “Babe, come on. You’re running on fumes, and you have been for a while now. We can all see that you need a break, and there’s never been a better time than now. This research isn’t time sensitive, and either way, it’s really not that much.  I know that if the roles were reversed, and I was in your situation, that you wouldn’t let up until I finally gave in and took care of myself. Let me do that for you, okay?” Your hand trailed down his arm so you could give his bicep a reassuring squeeze.

The hunter cast his eyes downwards momentarily, clearly lost in thought. Castiel’s shuffling around the room paused once he noticed the change in the atmosphere, much to your relief. Sam’s lips parted and shut repeatedly before he finally worked up the courage to speak. “Could you,” he began, pausing to cough when he realized how strained and broken his voice sounded. “Could you lay with me?” Concerned hazel eyes flickered up to peer at you through tousled strands of brown hair. His fear of impending rejection shone clear as day on his face like a bright neon sign, calling attention to the tug of his brows and the slight pout of his bottom lip like a blaring siren.

You felt your features visibly soften at the sight of the man you loved so much in such a vulnerable state. With a small, comforting smile, you nodded your head in agreement before tugging carefully at the sleeve of his flannel shirt in an effort to coax him out of his chair. Slowly but surely, he raised to his feet and allowed you to lead him over to the old leather couch in the corner of the library. You knew he wouldn’t let you take him all the way to his room in fear of missing any big breakthroughs in the day’s research, so for the time being, the surprisingly comfortable cushions the Men of Letters left behind would have to do.

You urged him to settle down however he pleased, which in the end seemed to be with his head propped against the arm of the couch and his body lounging across its length. One of his feet sat flat on the floor while the other splayed out over the other chair arm, dangling precariously in the air. Once he got everything to his liking, he turned his exhaustion laden eyes to you to peer at you through heavy lids. He reached his arms out and made grabby hands in your direction like a child would to his favorite stuffed animal, causing you to chuckle. The sound put a lopsided grin on the hunter’s face.

“C’mere,” he insisted, keeping his arms outstretched towards you.

You shook your head with a smile. “I don’t think we’re both gonna fit on that couch, big guy.”

“Trust me,” he coaxed. “I got it, just c’mere.”

You took a tentative step towards him and placed yourself within arm’s reach of the man. In an instant, he pulled you towards him at the waist and maneuvered your body so that you were laying on top of him. Your head rested comfortably on his chest just over his heart. One of his arms wrapped around your waist while his other hand buried itself in the hair at the back of your head, serving to hold your head in place as well as trace lazy circles on your scalp. Your legs tangled together and the smell of Sam’s favorite body wash and shampoo combination curled around you like a warm blanket.

His chest rose and fell with each steady breath he took, the motions serving to lull you into a restful state alongside the ever comforting beating of his heart beneath your ear. You were vaguely aware of Dean’s continued research endeavors in the background. The clack of keyboard keys and the turning of old book pages registered only as well as the soft flutter of wings that arose every so often as Castiel popped in and out of the library in search of the information he required. In all truth, none of that really mattered to you when you were curled up in Sam’s arms.

Slowly but surely, Sam’s movements began to slow. The circles his finger tips traced over your skin became sloppier and sloppier until they finally ceased altogether. His breathing evened out and his whole form relaxed with well needed rest. Only once you were sure he was asleep did you risk a glance up at him.

His grip on your waist tightened with your movements, only causing you to smile and slow your motions enough that his brain wouldn’t register them. You peeked up at his sleeping face, a lazy grin on your features at the sight. He looked so much… younger like this. His skin was smooth and free of any worry lines from the day to day stressors. His eyelashes shadowed over his cheekbones, leading your eyes down to his relaxed jawline and the small pout tugging at his slightly parted lips. His hair was as wild as ever, but you knew that as soon as he woke up he would run a single hand through it and manage to look utterly flawless, which you always found infuriating. Then he would look at you with a sleepy, lopsided smile and rub at one eye with the heel of his hand, greeting you with his gravelly morning voice, and you would realize you couldn’t stay mad at him for very long. It was an endless cycle, and you were prepared to go through it every single day if he would allow you.

You turned your eyes to Dean, who sat in the same place he had been all day, laptop opened in front of him, face illuminated by the blue tinted glow. Only now, the corners of his lips were tugging upwards in a ghost of a smile. His own emerald gaze flickered upwards to peer at you over the top of his screen, green hued eyes softening as a genuine smile broke out on his face. A small part of you felt relieved that he wasn’t annoyed with the way you had left him to research alone, but the rest of you was simply in awe of the sight of Dean Winchester’s genuine happiness.

“Thank you,” he mouthed to you in earnest.

“Always,” came your reply.

And with that, you rested your head on Sam’s chest once again, and allowed his heartbeat to lull you into a peaceful sleep.

[vanbwi]

Me paenitet -a/m.

me paenitet (Latin; I’m sorry)

member: Kim Namjoon

genre: angst, smut, college!au

trigger warnings: graphic self-harm, suicidal thoughts, death, depression, drug use, paranoia and self-hatred.

↠  words: 4.7k

*Reader discretion is advised.

At some point, you have to realize that some people can stay in your heart but not your life. 🌹

Everyone knew her name. The perfect good girl, a law student with straight A’s with zero annotations. The professors adored her. Students looked up to her. She was the ideal image of a hardworking Harvard student who desired to be a successful lawyer. She was flawless inside and out. 

Lovely and kindhearted personality. She cared, she cared so much about others. She was irresistible and charming.  Luxurious hair, spotless and soft skin, a desirable body. Alluring eyes, mushy cheeks and a bright smile. A smile that could light up the whole room. 

But nobody really knew who she actually was.

Before he properly met her, they’ve exchanged a couple of smiles and small conversations to bore the time. Y/N was always there in the library, studying and studying. There were so much readings that had to be done in her major. Big piles of books in front of her that shielded her away from the crowd. He was completely shocked, him who’s taking a masters degree in philosophy and literature at the same time. He didn’t have to read that much. 

Namjoon actually looked up to her too, appreciate how much work she is putting in to reach her dreams. She basically lived there together with him. She came there to study while he came there to relax and read. They were always the last ones to leave the library once it’s closed. 

He was an awkward little bean so he stopped and pretended to tie his shoe laces to avoid walking side by side with her. Since she lived only two rooms away from him. However, there was a pair of cute artistic shoes that stopped in front of him. She bent down on her knees, “Hey Kim Namjoon, right? Do you want to walk back together to the dormitory?” 

“S-sure, Y/N.” He brushed his hair back and scratched his neck awkwardly. 

They stood up and walked side by side. He could smell her scent as the cold wind blew past her. She smelt like citrus, orchids and the rain forest smell, it was so serene and calming. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, breathing in her scent and keep her in his grip forever. But she snapped him out of his dreamy thoughts.

“How did you know my name anyway?” Y/N questioned, smiling and showed her deep dimples. She was so humble.

“Well, everyone knows you. The straight A’s student with a dream of becoming a lawyer. I really admire how hard you’re working to reach your dreams. You’ll get very successful.” 

She laughed an airy laugh. A grin so big that made the corner of her eyes wrinkled. God, she was so beautiful. Her laugh was adorable. Y/N stopped for a second, gazed into his eyes and he swore, he saw sparkling stars in her eyes. 

“I admire you too, Nams. Everyone knows who you are too. The cute dimpled genius with a high IQ. Instead of becoming an engineer, you chose literature and philosophy. Something that interests you. Not everyone are brave enough to reach for their dreams.” 

Namjoon looked down to his feet, redness appeared by the corner of his ears and roamed to his mushy cheeks.

That was the start of their friendship. Although they didn’t have the same classes together. They got more closer and closer, they sat next to each other at the library. Sharing snacks and coffee. Discussing books, art and music. Learning new Latin phrases together so that only the two of you would understand. Planning trips after graduation. Not long, they were running after each other in the library hallways, piggy ride each other on the fields, buying lunch for each other. She rarely went to frat parties so they chose to stay in the dorms together with takeaways and rented movies. 

He remembered those relaxing nights and stressful mornings. He remembered her small hands engulfed in his. Her head against his chest, hearing her slow breathing. Saturday morning was the only day where they can snuggled til the sun sets again. He loved to wake up to her by his side every morning. Watching her peaceful face, seeing some small acne around her face. Pimples by her chin. Looking at the scar by her forehead and her right cheek. An eyelash by the tip of her nose. Studying all the beautiful imperfections. They were perfect to him.

He knew everything about her. Her favorite topping on pizza. Her favorite color, her favorite clothing and her father’s favorite band. She knew his favorite author, his favorite book and his mother’s favorite song. She knew that he got his smile from his mother. She even know the snoring pattern when he sleeps. But that didn’t bother her since she was a deep sleeper and his snoring was calming to her.

“Do you want some more beer? I have more in the fridge.” Y/N stretched her arms, untangling herself away from him.

“Yes, please.” He said politely. Watched her body swinging away to the little cabinet. He didn’t wanted to get caught staring so he returned his gaze down to the coffee table. But he noticed something, a small white box tucked underneath her leather bag loaded with books.

A box of cigarettes? 

“Do you smoke?” Namjoon blurted out with curiosity and anxiousness. Please, say it’s her roommate’s. Don’t let her destroy herself with poison. Although he already knew the answer, she didn’t have any roommate. 

“Yeah.” She replied simply. “I know it’s not good for me but I feel relaxed. Smoking also feels better paired with coffee and frustration.” She joked slightly by the end, grinning without her dimples to be seen. Why weren’t they there? 

He knew something was off, once she returned with two bottles of beers in her hands. One of them was nearly emptied. She made a little distance between them. However, Namjoon understood her. He scooted closer to her, locking her in a corner and wrapped his arms around her. 

Y/N’s stiff body grew relaxed by his touch. She leaned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. Smelling his warmth mixed with books and expensive cologne. 

“It’s alright.” Namjoon whispered and stroked her soft hair. Kissed her forehead gently. “I’m here for you. If you ever need anything. Cigarettes aren’t always the answer.” 

She smiled, small dimples appeared on her cheeks. “Thanks, Nams. You can stay the night.” 

He hated seeing her smoke. The way she hold that damn thing between her fingers. The way she inhales the toxic in herself. How emotionless and cold she looks. It was like seeing her ripping herself apart in pieces. He couldn’t bare that. Smoking was a classic way to commit suicide. Every time she smokes in his sight, he would stomp that bloody thing under his feet.

Now she’s left with coffee and frustration without a smoke. She let out a huff and stared annoyed at the floor.

“Tell me what’s bothering you instead. Don’t cage the feelings inside yourself.” Namjoon towered over her. “Please, Y/N... You know that I’ll always be here for you.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes and sighed. Smiling slightly.Yeah, she’s smiling. But don’t let that fool you. Look into her eyes, it’s breaking inside. 

Goddamn she was hard to crack. He already knew that something was wrong, he noticed the way she gets stiff when they’re talking about feelings or what’s bothering them. The tiredness in her face, the veins in her stormy eyes. Her chapped cold lips, her freezing hands. She looked so fragile and broken. 

She have been strong for way too long.

“You must know that every words I’ve said to you. I mean it. I care for you. You’re so important to me. You were always there for me when I’ve faced problems. It’s my turn to return the favor. I’m always thinking of you.” He confessed, holding her frozen hands. Caressing the top of her hand. 

“I’ve laid on my bed at night, thinking if you’re okay. Have you eaten or not? Have someone hurt you? What’s bothering you? Have you gotten safe home? Are you sleeping well?” Namjoon’s voice started to crack. Tears were streaming down his face. He meant everything he said. 

Goosebumps crept up Y/N’s skin. She felt guilt, was she the one who made her cry? Was she the one who should be blamed for all of this? Why did he care so much? 

“I care about you. I’m here for you.” He brushed her hair away from her face. Cupping her mushy cheeks and wiped away her silent tears. “Always. I trust you with my life.”

She breathed in, gathering up her voice. “We are all addicted to something that takes the pain away.“ 

Her voice was breaking apart, she tried to hold in her tears again. She hated to cry. It made her feel the attention and the pity he gave her. “I’ll be alright one day. Someday. But not today.“ 

Namjoon pulled her into a tight hug. Wrapped her in his arms tighter than ever. Never letting her go. Want her to know that if something goes wrong, he’ll be there. He’ll always be there. 

Y/N sobbed into his shirt, quietly whimpering and wetting his shirt with her wet tears. She cried harder than she ever cried. Feeling her nose and her throat getting stuffed. It hurt to breath and cry. She felt like something was crawling up her throat. She wanted to scream in exasperation. 

“I can’t concentrate anymore.” She croaked out. She clung onto him hard and buried her face in his chest. “My grades are dropping. Everything I’ve read, they don’t stay in my head. The big exam is coming up, I don’t remember anything!” 

“You’ve been on the top for so long. We’re soon graduating... You’re almost there Y/N. Your dream is becoming true.” He kissed the top of her head, stroking her hair gently. 

She violently pushed him away. Gripped her head, wanting to rip her hair from her head. Wanting to get out of her own skin. “I don’t want to be a lawyer! I never wanted anything of this! Law doesn’t interest me! I wanted to make my parents proud, I wanted to make everyone proud! But I’ve never been happy, I regret it. I regret everything... God.” 

She wept and wept. Clutching her chest and digging her nails into her skin. She rolled into a ball, wrapping her arms around herself. Namjoon was blown away by her outrage. He stared at her, more tears pouring down his face like rocky waterfalls. It wasn’t her dream. She never wanted to be a lawyer. 

He bent down, engulfed her into his warm embrace. 

Y/N started smiling again. However, he noticed that her dimples were gone. The dimples becomes visible when she meant it. She faked the smiles to everyone. The professors, the freshmen and her friends. But he saw it right through her. Her eyes were gray and stormy. Full of sorrows. She was so strong and independent. Came back right to the tracks again, studying hard and distanced herself from him. His friends even questioned where she was. She didn’t return his calls or his messages. It felt like months.

Maybe he was the distraction? Maybe it was his fault? Namjoon thought to himself, staring at her cigarette box in his own hands. He took it away from her, they didn’t help her. The addiction will drive her mad. 

The exams came. He wished her luck. 

Three weeks later he got the results back. He passed with full score. However, he couldn’t help but think about her. Did she pass? And if she didn’t was she satisfied with the results? He searched for her in the crowd. But all he saw was a glimpse of her heading towards the dormitory. 

“Y/N!” Namjoon shouted and sprinted after her. She heard him but didn’t turn back, picked up her pace and shut the door behind her. Locking it securely. 

“Please, Y/N!” He banged on the door. “Let’s talk, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” 

Stupid. He thought. Of course she wasn’t okay. 

“It will get better.” Namjoon shouted through the door, clung onto the hand lock. Hoping that she will open up to let him in.

“No, it won’t.”  She shouted back.

“I’m here for you.” ¨

“Bullshit!” She screamed in defeat. It pained him, he could hear her small whimpers. Her stuffed breathing and the way 

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.” She banged her head against the door. “Let me be.”

Namjoon backed away slowly, felt his heart breaking in pieces. Y/N haven’t come out for many weeks. She locked herself in that stupid dorm, starving herself and driving herself mad. She never answered any calls or messages. He assumed that she have broken her phone. 

 He was worried and concerned. Although he was the only one that cared. None of her friends came by, they probably haven’t noticed that she have isolated herself in. Heartless people, nobody cared. 

He came by everyday, knocking on the door, bringing food to her. But she haven’t touched them one bit. All he could hear through the door was her rigid and unstable breathing. Mixed with muffled cries and sobs. He was afraid that one day she will be gone. One day he wouldn’t get to see that beautiful smile, he wouldn’t hear her soft voice. 

How long can a human survive without food? How long could a human survive with their disturbing mind?

One month passed, the graduation day was right by the corner. He hoped that this day she would let him in. He knocked softly and leaned his head against the door, “Y/N? Can you please let me in? I’ve brought some food. You really must eat something.” 

Some seconds later, he heard the distant soft footsteps approaching the door. Unlocked it. She finally faced him, a small smile on her face. Her voice was dry and scratchy, like she have been screaming and crying. “Hey.” 

Oh, Y/N. What have you done? She have lost so much weight, he could see the prominent collarbones and the bones peeking through her chest. Her cute squishy cheeks were gone. There weren’t any colors on her skin tone. Grayish and blue even. Her hair was thinner and dried up. She had on an oversize baggy sweater that reached above her kneecaps.

“I’ve missed you.” Namjoon whispered and closed the door behind him. Observing the surrounding. There weren’t any source of light coming through. It was a mess. Her room didn’t smell like citrus anymore. It reeked of smoke and the metallic blood smell. 

She sat down by the unmade bed. Sucking her teeth and tried to smile. “I’ve missed you too, Nams.” 

Namjoon opened the food tray and started to feed her. She didn’t denied the food, accepted it and stared at him. Her eyes were bloodshot red and the corner of her lips were a trail of blood. “Is it good?” 

She nodded and coughed up, “Taste good.” 

Her tranquil dark gaze. She stared at the wall. Empty and emotionless. She have destroyed herself completely. She couldn’t even cry anymore. In that moment he felt like she didn't exist anymore.

“I’m just kinda tired you know. I’m tired of feeling like a failure all the time.” She mumbled faintly. Shifted her gaze to him, he held her cold hands. Pulled her into a tender hug.

She opened up, whispering in a hushed voice. “I want to give up, I’m done with myself. I can’t leave because I care too much and it’s killing me. I know it would destroy my friends and my family. So I take this pain, I choose to smile so the people I love doesn’t feel the same way as I’m feeling right now.” 

Y/N felt so guilty for bringing him into this. She used all the strength she had and gently pulled him onto the bed. She laid in his arms, their legs tangled together.

“I want to stop trying and not care for one day. Sometimes I wish people didn’t care so I cloud kill myself without feeling bad? Does that make me a horrible person? To finally get what I actually want instead of adjusting myself to others?” 

Namjoon shake his head. 

“Sometimes I don’t want to feel better, I don’t want things to get better. Sometimes I want things to get really bad so I have a reason to kill myself.” She confessed. She told everything she always wanted to say. Slowly there were tears dripping down her face.

“That exam results pushed me. I’ve barely passed. But I don’t want to be a lawyer. I don’t want to study all over again. I’ve always been interested in art, I want to be an artist.” Y/N sighed heavily. She dreamed and dreamed to finally get what she wanted. Although 

“It’s alright, Y/N. You must reach for your dreams, I’ll always be here for you. We can live in an apartment together. You’re studying while I’m working. I mean it. I want a future with you.” Namjoon caressed her back, feeling the bony spine peeking through the sweater.

His chest heaving up and down, she listened to his steady heartbeat. “You’re the most wonderful person I’ve ever met. You mean so much to me. I already know it. I’m so in love with you Y/N.” 

Y/N weakly smiled, slowly dimples started to appear on her soft cheeks. “I love you too, Namjoon.” Since a long time, she was happy. She felt loved and she knew that he would always be there for her. She leaned in and gently kissed him. Tasting the sweetness from his lips. His lips were so soft compared to her cold chapped lips. 

Namjoon played with her hair, caressing her cheeks and softly stroke her legs. Feeling every curve and every skin on her body. Making her feel worthy and beautiful. He wanted to make her feel loved, let her know that she was so important to him. He rolled over, looking at her small frame as he hovered over her. 

“You’re so fucking gorgeous.” He said deeply. She smiled once again, reaching her cold hands to the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. Namjoon did the same to her, but for a while she seem hesitant about it. 

“It’s okay.” 

He gently pulled her big sweater over her head. Observing her fragile body. What has she done? There were deep scars, burnt marks and scratches. She also ripped her own skin. Some of them were old and some haven’t fully healed. Instead of being disgusted, he stared at her masterpiece. He softly kissed every pieces of her body. She have become so thin, her sternum and her ribs were visible. 

Teardrops gathered by the corner of his eyes. “Please, don’t hurt yourself again. Do you know how important you are to me?” 

Y/N gently nodded and crashed her lips against his. A passionate and deep kiss with everything poured into it. She grasped his hair and slowly started to grind onto him, locking him between her thighs. She could feel his growing bulge pressed against her lower stomach. She whispered, “Please, make me forget the pain. I love you so much.” 

His hands caressed her legs and gripped her inner thighs. Pressing her against the bed, taking control. He pinned her arms above her heads, sucking her neck and downwards. To her breast, her ribs, her stomach, her bellybutton. All the time he kept his eyes on her, looking at her pretty face gasping for air. Her chest heaving up and down as she kept squirming under his touch. 

“Oh, god... Namjoon.” She moaned once his hands reached down to cup her heat. His fingers pressed against her covered core. 

“You’re soaking wet already.” Namjoon grunted and slipped down her underwear, craving a taste of her. She let out a shaky sigh and arched her back. His slow tongue soothed over her bottom lip. He started to suck the juices and gently swept his tongue between the slit. His plump lips wrapped around her core.

His fingers pressed into the heat, spreading her lip wider. “Fuck!” Y/N bucked her body, her breathing became heavier and she gasped at the pleasure. Namjoon gripped her thighs tighter, making her stay in her place. Her body trembled as he quickened his pace. His tongue never leaving her lower lip. Her walls tightened against his fingers.

“Holy shit.” He breathed against her, sending vibrations through her body. She couldn’t do it anymore, she squirmed upwards and plopped herself on her elbows.

Y/N stared at his swollen lips and his dark lustful eyes. “Just fuck me already.” She laid back down on the bed, trying to calm her violent heart. 

She heard the sound of his belt unbuckling and the zipper zipping down. “You got any condoms?” He winced at the contact of his stinging member. Once he pulled down his underwear, his cock bounced up against his stomach. The precum were leaking out and made a big wet spot on his boxers.

“No, it’s alright. Just put it in me.” Y/N closed her eyes. 

Namjoon hovered over her, looking down to guide his throbbing member towards her little cunt. He stroked his cock against her heat, coating her juices over the head of his member. At the same time he was afraid to touch her, he was afraid to break her. 

“Shit, just fuck me already.” She moaned at the contact of his cock against her. He held his breath as he pushed himself inside her. Stretching her out wide around him. She winced at the sudden pain, biting his biceps. 

“Ah- are you okay?” Namjoon controlled himself from not pounding into her right at the spot. Concern washed over him.

“No, it feels so good... You can move.” Y/N whimpered slightly and clung onto his back. Pressing his chest against hers. 

He placed his arms beside her face and thrust deeper into her. He stared down at her, looking at her beautiful face. He deeply whispered, “You’re so fucking tight and wet around me.” 

Namjoon picked up his pace and started to ram deeply into her. Feeling her warmth and the tightness around him. She could feel his prominent throbbing veins on his cock brushing against her core. Her walls clenched tightly against him, he grunted. Not being able to thrust deeper.

“Namjoon, I’m close.” She moaned and intensely stared into his eyes. 

“Fuck, me too.” He heavily groaned. She came around his member, releasing a loud moan that sounded like heaven to him. It wasn’t long until he chased after his high. Rapidly pounding into her swollen core. She cried at the over sensitivity. He shot his warm load inside her and pulled out, rubbing his sticky cum around her cunt. 

He slumped down beside her, their body sweaty and sticky. The bed sheets were sticking to their skin. Y/N turned to the side and placed her head on his chest. Listening to his pumping heart.

“Can we start over? Can we be strangers again?” She sobbed, letting the cold tears rolling down her cheeks. 

“Let me introduce myself.  We can laugh and talk. And relearn what we already know, and come up with new inside jokes. And create new memories and give each others a second chance. A second chance. I’ve filled you up with bad memories and bad words already. I’ve ruined you.”

Y/N cupped his face, looking into his deep eyes. “I’m so sorry. I love you so much. You’ve always been there for me, whatever I’m experiencing. It’s not you. It was never you.” 

Tomorrow was the graduation day. Namjoon was so thrilled and excited, he couldn’t help and smiled at the memories from last night with Y/N. God, he was utterly in love. He promised to take care of her, he won’t ever let her out of his sight again. Finally, they were graduating together like they promised. 

He woke up later than usual, he didn’t even check his phone, put on some shirt and saw that his roommate have already woken up. The first thing he wanted to see in the morning was her face. 

Head directly over to the cafeteria with a big goofy smile plastered on his face. He greeted the barista, Yoongi. “Two cappuccinos, please.” 

“Well, aren’t you happy today? Finally, I haven’t seen you smile in a while, Namjoon.” Yoongi gave him the usual gummy smile, wrinkly triangular eyes. He’s also graduating today with his master’s degree in music production. Yoongi was so passionate, working half-time and studying full-time. Namjoon admired him as well. They were close friends with the same music taste.

“it’s Y/N right?” Yoongi guessed and handed him the two plastic cups. 

“Yeah.” Namjoon blushed. 

“Say hello from me to her, will you? It’s been a while since I’ve seen her by your side. I hope she’s doing well. You guys are really cute together.” Yoongi nodded and maybe he was one of those who actually cared for her more than her friends.

Namjoon waved and slowly jogged to her dorm. Nearly skipping in happiness and excitement. “Y/N! Wakey, wakey! I’ve brought you some coffee, maybe we can go out for pancakes together?” He didn’t knocked and walked straight in. 

No one was there. A complete silent welcomed him. Her bed was still unmade from yesterday. However, the mess in her room have been cleaned up, the windows were still shield shut. The only source of light was coming from the bathroom.

“Y/N?” He called out, getting worried. An uncomfortable feeling filled his stomach. His heart beat faster and faster. 

His footsteps approached the opened door. Gulping, he turned to the corner and saw something he wished that he wasn’t the one witnessing. He instantly dropped the coffee on the floor, sprinted over to her, shouting for her to come back. He screamed for help.

There she was, lifeless in the bathtub filled with red fresh blood. The bathroom smelt like the familiar metallic smell and it was far worse than the smoke. She had a razor in her hand that formed a deep cut on her throat. The blood have already stopped oozing out, he could even see the white skin beneath the cut. But her eyes was still full of life, she looked somewhat tranquil and calm. She cut pieces of her cheeks, showing dimples. Those dimples that he loved so much. 

He clutched her body onto his chest, tried to feel a heartbeat coming from her. At the same time, he was enraged. Why? Why did she leave him? He told her that everything is going to be okay. She promised to graduate together with him. It was only one day away. One day. 

Why today? Why did you do it? Y/N...

Namjoon kept crying and crying, the ambulance came but he still didn’t let go off her. He didn’t want to accept the fact that he’ll never see her again. He’ll never feel the warmth, he’ll never wake up beside her in the next morning, the first thing he would see... Her beautiful face, her gentle smile, her deep dimples and her adorable laughter. 

Everything flashed in his eyes, the ambulance took her away. The principal came to talk with him. The students were down like they have lost the sunshine. Yoongi gave him another cup of cappuccino, for the first time. Namjoon saw that Yoongi cried. 

Namjoon stayed in her room. Trying to remember every single details they shared last night. However his eyes spotted something on the desk. A box full with cigarettes, the lighter that she always carried around and a drawing of a crow. He picked up the drawing, observing her beautiful hidden talent.

He flipped it around, at the back was her good bye letter to him. Her last words. He chewed his lips bitterly, picked up the lighter and set the piece of paper on fire. 

At some point, you have to realize that some people can stay in your heart but not your life.

> Masterlist 🌹

[newsical]

Henry Turner and Carina Smyth Yale AU: Chapter 1

Hi everyone! This is chapter 1 of @elizabeth-svvann’s Yale AU . It will be cross posted to AO3 once I can make an account there. For now it will be available under the “Keep Reading” link. Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 6170

Summary: Carina had always been one of the smartest people in the room her entire life. She graduated high school at 15 and is currently studying at Yale University to earn a Ph.D. in Astrophysics. Over the past year, the physics department has been hit hard with budget cuts, and the latest one was the nonrenewal of Carinas favourite professor, Dr Jack Sparrow’s contract. Enraged by this, Carina attends an annual Yale fundraiser to confront the Dean of the University, Weatherby Swann.

At the event, the first person she meets is Henry Turner, a classics student getting his master’s in said field. Henry is instantaneously smitten with her, while Carina is uninterested in him - her only purpose there is to talk to Dean Swann. All night she is unsuccessful in getting a moment alone with him. As she waits for her drink at the bar, she overhears two women gossiping about the Dean, mentioning all the favours and grants given to his son in law, Professor William Turner, over the years. The conversation then shifts to Swann’s grandson: Henry Turner. Immediately Carina formulates a plan to use Henry to get to his grandfather, in hopes that history repeats itself and Dean Swann’s nepotism will carry down to her as his grandson’s new girlfriend.

The guilt of using Henry soon starts to grow as she falls for the classics nerd with his terrible Latin jokes and constant babbling about Greek and Roman mythology.

To say she felt out of place would be an understatement. The looks the people were giving her made Carina feel like she was the world’s only dragon. She ran her hands nervously over her dress, smoothing the nonexistent wrinkles, and told herself for the seventh time that she was not underdressed. Out of place, maybe, but never underdressed.

It took Carina a deep breath and a quick gulp of her water--surprisingly chilled--to remind herself why she was there. Without fulfilling her mission there was, of course, no purpose to be there. No reason to be dealing with the skeptical glances and glares of these posh muckety-mucks...In a sudden and odd change of circumstance, Carina felt eyes on her that were, for once, not scathing. A tall boy--tall-ish, Carina decided on second glance--with soft eyes watched her, as if willing her to notice him. Once she did, though, he dropped his eyes and began to study the guest list with an intensity Carina had thought him incapable of. She hid a smile. Ah, the price of shame.

Carina returned to her task. She scanned the guests, waiting to be awarded with the view of loose gray hair. No such luck. Carina caught herself pouting and drew herself up; she would not be defeated quite so easily. She was brushed by someone’s coat, but found that the presence did not leave as soon as it had arrived. Instead, it lingered, and with a sigh, Carina turned to fake her first conversation of the night.

To her surprise, she was not met with the sight of someone demanding to see her ID. It was the boy from before, and he fidgeted slightly before smiling sheepishly.

“Who are you? If you don't mind me asking, that is,” he asked before promptly turning pink upon realizing the directness of his initial question. Carina bit her tongue in disappointment. So she was being IDed, just not in the form of a black-outfitted security guard and rather a golden retriever-esque boy.

When she didn't answer, he tried again.

“I'm sorry to be too forward, it's just...I've never seen you before, and I couldn't find you on the guest list…” He trailed off and just stood there, shifting slightly.

“Come here often, do you?” Carina asked. The boy looked up, evidently startled at receiving a response. “You must be important.”

The boy grinned and looked down.

“Not really,” he said. “So what was your name?”

He was a persistent security guard, if that was his role.

“Carina. Carina Smyth. I'm not on the guest list, so don't bother checking,” Carina offered dryly. The boy’s eyes widened. There it was, Carina figured. She was going to be kicked out.

“Well, if anyone asks, you’re with me. Henry Turner,” Henry said, extending a hand. Carina raised her eyebrows, surprised at the boy's offer and slightly impressed, although she'd never admit it. She returned the gesture. The smile returned to Henry’s face. Carina was certain she'd never seen anyone quite so easily amused.

Certain he wasn't an intellectual, she turned away. No one that happy could harbor any real intelligence, anyhow.

“Wait,” Henry called. “Where are you going?”

“I'm looking for someone,” Carina replied, turning away once again.

“Oh,” said Henry. “Well, I hope you find them.”

Carina waved her thanks behind her and squeezed her way into the crowd. She figured she’d lost five, maybe eight minutes. She was determined not to be distracted again, but grateful to have someone’s name to give, even if it was that of a rich baby.

Carina tried, and failed, several times that night to find and speak with Dean Swann. She wasn’t just going to let Jack’s employment drop. Not without a fight, at least. Unfortunately, fate seemed to have other plans for her that night; there was no sign of the Dean. Upon nearing the end of the night, Carina was forced to accept that her mission had failed. She wouldn’t be talking to or even seeing the Dean. And there was no saying when Jack’s position would be revoked.

Carina sighed and dropped into a stool at the bar.

“Shirley Temple, please,” she muttered to the bartender that came to take her order. He nodded and disappeared. Carina prayed that he wouldn’t be too long before returning with the sugary goodness. She could certainly stand to eat her feelings at the moment. She leaned on her hand idly and let her mind wander.

“Did you hear that the Dean gave another grant to his favorite professor?”

Carina queued in on the Dean’s name. Three women were huddled at the end of the bar, stage whispering over drinks.

“Shut up. He did not.”

“Yes, he did,” the first promised.

“Which one?” The third lady spoke for the first time. She was considerably younger and had a more optimistic look to her than her counterparts.

“His son-in-law.”

“Oh.”

“God, if I could get that money, I don’t even know what I’d do…”

“Nepotism at its finest, if you ask me.”

“At Yale? Are you sure? I mean, Professor T--”

The other two women shushed the younger one quickly, nervously glancing around the room to see if anyone had heard. It appeared they were safe. They leaned in closer and spoke in hushed tones.

“That professor is great, though. I had him when I went here. As far as I remember, he was doing some pretty great work.”

“Sure thing, sweetie.”

“It was some of the most advanced that I’ve seen here!” the younger girl insisted. “Professor Turner is ahead of his time, I promise you that.”

Carina practically jumped out of her seat at the mention of a Turner....particularly one related to the Dean. Henry’s father, perhaps? Carina had sworn to stay invisible and talk to only those she needed to, but this lead was far too great to resist.

“Did you say Turner?” The women looked to Carina in shock and horror that they’d been overheard. Only the youngest looked calm. Then again, she hadn’t exactly been trashing the Dean’s son-in-law. Carina scooted closer.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she began, definitely not sorry. “Does this Professor Turner have a son? One named Henry, by any chance?”

The two catty coworkers exchanged glances without answering, but the younger woman nodded.

“Henry Turner is his son. He’s a real nice boy. Smart, too. He’s majoring in classics here.”

“Henry Turner goes to Yale?” Carina did a double take. The woman nodded again. “And he’s the Dean’s grandson?”

“Yep.”

“Doesn’t that smell a bit like...the old boy’s network to you?”

The woman laughed.

“No, no. Henry’s quite clever. He went to school with my younger brother and got accepted just about everywhere.”

Carina nodded thoughtfully, whispered a thanks and received a nod, and turned to the bartender who had arrived with a Shirley Temple in hand. By the time she had turned back around, the women were gone. Carina thanked the stars; she wasn’t in the mood to continue small talk, especially not while forming a plan.

Someone sat down so abruptly next to Carina that she jumped slightly in her seat. It was Henry.

“Carina! Hello again,” he said with a smile. He looked at the drink in her hand. “How old are you?”

“Seventeen,” Carina sipped her drink. “I’m in my sophomore year.”

Henry nodded. “How old were you when you graduated high school, then?”

Carina started to roll her eyes, but withheld the urge. If her plan was going to work, she couldn’t afford to make Henry feel like dirt on her heel.

“Fifteen.” Henry whistled. “I was homeschooled and just went through the grades super quickly, so here I am.”

“What are you here for?”

“What is this, Twenty Questions?” Henry grinned and looked down to hide the blush that was spreading across his cheeks. Carina spoke again, this time willing her voice to at least sound nicer. “I’m working to get my Ph.D. in Astrophysics.”

“The stars?” Henry asked, so unsure that Carina could do nothing but roll her eyes and shake her head whilst smiling.

“Something like that. And now, you. You don’t look too old, either.”

“I, uh, graduated a year ahead. Not nearly as cool as you. Sorry. I’m a bit young for my grade, so I’m eighteen and in my sophomore year.”

Carina nodded, not breaking eye contact.

“You look like an English major.”

Henry threw his hands up.

“I do not! Why does everyone keep saying that?”

Carina shrugged.

“Well, are you?”

“Um...sort of? Classics. It’s in the humanities, so, yeah. Technically.”

“Oh. Do you want to be a teacher?”

Henry just about fell out of his chair.

“Does every person in the humanities at Yale want to be a teacher?” he exclaimed.

“No,” Carina said smartly. “But you’re not everyone, are you? So do you want to be a teacher or not?”

Henry was silent and traced his hand on the counter of the bar.

“I haven’t really thought about it,” he admitted quietly.

“My dear Henry,” Carina patted his arm, “that will have to change.”

///

Carina was surprised when the head of the engineering department stood on a chair to announce the end of the night. He thanked everyone for coming, said it was a wonderful evening, blah, blah, blah. For someone so good at gaging time, Carina had completely lost track of it. Carina decided that it was entirely Henry’s fault. She couldn’t tell if she’d been there minutes or hours and was only sure that Henry was definitely in the right major; he wouldn’t stop babbling and spouting misleadingly named “fun” facts.

She was sure she'd never met anyone quite so outwardly passionate about their major. His whole face lit up and he'd wave his arms around when he told her about the myths he'd been learning. He knew all of them by heart. It was slightly annoying and, Carina supposed, endearing to some, if they cared...which she didn't. Carina set her jaw and forced herself to humor the young Turner, who, from Carina’s observations, was completely smitten with her. The Dean’s grandson. It was already working out far too well.  

The one benefit from meeting Henry was that Carina didn't feel quite so out-of-place. Of course, she was sure that there were soon to be further benefits, but those would only come when her new friend asked her out. Carina was sure he would; his eyes didn't leave her face once the whole night.

A crowd flocked from the bar to the door and flooded out of the room. Carina took that as her opportunity to leave, or rather, escape. She stood, smoothed her dress, and tossed her purse over her shoulder. Henry froze mid word.

“You’re leaving?”

Carina nodded, trying to ignore the apparent hurt in Henry’s voice.

“Everyone else is, so I imagine that it's our queue.”

“You don't strike me as someone who follows what everyone else does,” Henry said simply. Unknowingly, he'd called her bluff.

“You’re right,” Carina said stiffly.

“So why leave?”

Carina was left speechless. She racked her brain for words and sputtered for a moment until she saw that the act was making Henry smirk.

“Why stay?” Carina crossed her arms and tilted her head, mimicking Henry but with a much cooler expression.

“I know a place with really good arepas. Want to go?”

And there it was: her key to save Jack’s job. Carina could feel a thousand thoughts swirl around her mind in the second that ensued and tried to focus on those of monumental importance. She'd have to be tied down to Henry, which, to some girls, might not seem quite so bad. He was cute, both conventionally attractive and in a way similar to a confused puppy. He was also incredibly talkative--to the point of annoyance. But he was smart, smarter than Carina would allow herself to give him credit for; doing so would involve admitting that she had been wrong in her impression, and even on a good night, Carina could barely stand being wrong.

“Sure,” Carina said slowly. “Sure. Why not?”

Henry smiled and reached for her hand. Carina hesitated, then took it tentatively, and followed him out the door, barely pausing to put on a coat. New Haven in late November was a disaster. Actually, Carina was certain that it was a disaster just about anywhere in New England, but Connecticut was no picnic. It was cold and windy, and Carina had to hug her jacket tight around her to keep warm. It did nothing to protect her poor knees from suffering the stinging winter chill, but it would have to do.

Henry tugged at her coat sleeve, conveniently snapping Carina out of her daze.

“What?”

“I’ve never seen a blue pea coat before,” he remarked.

“I bought it two years ago,” Carina gave a slight twirl. “I’d never seen one this color, either.”

“It’s nice. It matches your eyes and everything!”

Carina tried, and failed, to hold back the smile that was twitching on her lips. Immediately, she was hit by guilt with the force of a bus. He was nice--too nice for her plan. No, no...he wasn’t. He was just as nice as the next person, and if she wanted to save Jack’s ass--employment, she corrected herself--she would have to make some sacrifices.

The two waited together at a crosswalk without speaking. Carina bounced on her toes, willing the little white man to appear on the sign with her mind.

“I swear,” she muttered, “if that sign doesn’t change in fifteen seconds, I’m walking straight into traffic.”

Henry choked on a laugh.

“So what are these arepas, anyways?”

“Heaven,” Henry said with wide eyes. He shook his head abruptly. “Uh, sorry. They’re...um, well...they’re sorta like--they’re the leaning tower of Pisa, except made out of Colombian food.”

“I see.” Carina nodded, trying to imagine such an image. She made a mental note to discourage Henry from being a writer--for his own good, of course, as well as that of a reader.

Just before Carina was about to charge into the street, the light changed and they were able to safely cross. Carina watched Henry for a moment and, consequently, was caught staring. He treated her to a bashful smile.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Carina shook her head. “You just seem to know where you’re going.”

Henry laughed and pulled out a wallet. He opened it, reached inside, and pulled out a picture. Carina took it. A beautiful woman laughed, pearly whites gleaming. She held what Carina could only guess was a small Henry on her lap. Her head was tossed back, and her hair, sun-blond, tumbled over her shoulders. She looked like a goddess.

“That’s my mother. Her friend, Alessandra, owns the place, and we’ve gone there all the time since I was little.” There was no doubt that the woman was Henry’s mother. She had the same eyebrows, light brown eyes, and lightly browned skin. Henry was the spitting image of her. Rather, Carina noted, he was a perfect split of his mother and the man she knew to be Professor Turner.

“She’s beautiful,” Carina remarked, desperately trying to brush off the sentimentality of it all.

“Thanks. She’s the best mom ever. You should’ve seen me at Halloween when I was little; she dressed me up as an animal cracker.”

“An animal cracker?”

“Yup. I was a pirate the next year.”

Carina laughed.

“I still can’t get over the whole animal cracker bit. Do you have a picture of that?”

Henry’s eyes crinkled. He shook his head and returned his mother’s picture to his wallet.

“I do, but it’s at home. I was quite the animal cracker.”

“I imagine you fit right in the role.”

Carina pretended not to notice and fought hard not to tease Henry’s change in gait as they neared a cozy restaurant that emitted warm orange light. Whether her legs were frozen or Henry was abnormally hungry and passionate about Colombian food, Carina struggled to keep up with him. With great effort, however, she succeeded--in heels. Henry pulled open a door and held it for Carina; immediately, she was hit by a rush of warm air, and hurried inside with a chattering “ohmygosh.” A bell jangled above as Henry pulled the door closed behind him. Finally, Carina silently thanked the stars, the cold was gone. Her legs began to tingle as they became reaccustomed to the warmth.

“Henry!” A tall woman with dark hair and a beautiful accent strolled over to Henry with open arms. He embraced her and returned the kiss on the cheek she gave him. When the woman released him, her eyes fell on Carina and lit up. She gave a small gasp and glanced at Henry.

“Who is this?” she asked excitedly.

“Carina Smyth,” he said. “Carina, this is Yolanda. She’s Alessandra’s sister-in-law.”

Carina nodded a hello. Apparently unpleased, Yolanda tittered.

“Come on in, sweetie. I’m a hugger.”

She squeezed Carina tighter than Carina had expected; she wasn’t used to hugs, especially from strangers.

“Is your mom joining us, Henry?”

Henry shook his head.

“Just two tonight, Yolie.”

Yolanda squealed and danced over to some menus. She returned and used said menus to direct them to a table. Carina could feel the eyes of the kitchen on her as she tucked her dress under her and took a seat. Once again, she was the spectacle of the evening. Carina wondered why she’d ever agreed to anything in the first place.

Luckily, Henry was slightly more awkward than she was. He started off the dinner by recommending a dish, then asked her if she had ever taken Latin.

“Of course!” Carina exclaimed. “Lots of classes would be a whole lot harder without it.”

He then proceeded to ask: “What does a frog that knows Latin prose composition say?”

“Latin prose composition has an effect on a frog’s vocabulary?”

“Scribbit!” Henry grinned at her, and Carina shook her head.

“You, Henry Turner, are a born classics major.”

“So I’ve been told.”

They were waited on by what Carina deduced as the entire staff of the restaurant. In other words, Carina imagined, Henry’s date was being sized up by the family. She expected that Mrs. Turner would have a report on her every move before Henry returned home. Or wherever a professor’s son lived.

Fueled only by sheer determination, Carina managed to finish her arepa. Henry watched her with great amusement as she struggled to fit the last few bites of her meal in her already full stomach. Carina wouldn’t dare give him the satisfaction of her being unable to eat an entire arepa. Even though his Latin jokes were cheesy and terrible, she knew that he’d never let her hear the end of it, whether they were friends or otherwise.

“I’ll pay for yours.” Henry reached across the table for the bill, but Carina slapped his hand. Henry withdrew, rubbing the new red mark.

“You will do no such thing, Turner.”

“Yes, I will,” Henry insisted, attempting to make another grab at the check. Carina wouldn’t allow it and snatched it up.

“No, you won’t,” she said, waving a twenty in the air. “Not if I pay it first.”

Carina looked down for a split second to place the money in the bill. In that time, the gentleman-on-steroids lunged across the table and swiped the bill out of her hands. Carina was left in the same position, cradling the ghost of a bill. Henry grinned, handed Carina her twenty, and snapped the bill closed. He was far too smug for Carina’s liking.

“You may have won the battle, Turner, but I will win the--”

Carina was cut of by Yolanda’s return.

“All done, kiddies?”

Henry nodded and handed her the bill. Yolanda shook her head and waved her hands.

“No, no, no, no, sweetie. It’s on the house tonight. Anything for my favorite Turner,” she smiled broadly and pinched Henry’s cheeks, who attempted to smile through what Carina suspected to be pain. “Also, your mommy got me a really nice painting. I owe you all, Henry.”

Yolanda told them to have a great night, which she emphasized with a wink, and escorted them to the door. The entire kitchen staff waved at them through the windows. As she walked away, Carina smirked.

“See, Henry? If I can’t win, neither can you.”

“Apparently not,” was Henry’s astounded reply.

Carina made it about five more feet before stopping abruptly and crinkling her face in confusion. Henry turned.

“What is it?”

“I just remembered that I walked to the dinner,” Carina said.

“And how far’s your dorm?”

Carina paused for a moment, considered her once-again-frozen legs, and answered briskly: “Too far.”

Henry shook his head.

“I’ll drive you.” He pulled out his phone and checked a message. “...Right after I buy my mom groceries. Want to come with?”

Carina almost gave him a flat-out no. It was getting late, and tomorrow was a Saturday. She’d have to get up early if she wanted to make it to Claire’s for pancakes with her floormates. But then again, more time with Henry could equate to a favor, and she couldn’t risk the denial of that favor, not for anything. She could be late to pancakes; it wouldn’t be the first time.

“Sure.”

“To the apple store we go, then,” he said, turning left. Carina stuck her hands in her pockets and leaned into Henry as they rounded the corner with, as Carina reassured herself, the sole purpose of avoiding smacking into any dazed tourists or drunk college kids. The sidewalk wasn’t empty--it never really was. Groups of students and couples walked at alternating paces. The girls in the short dresses and heels giggled and stuttered quickly by, evidently freezing. Carina scoffed. At least she’d remembered to bring a coat.

One couple caught Carina’s eye; two lovers walked slowly, weaving left and right. Their eyes were fixed on one another’s face, and they didn’t once break their gaze--not even when the boy reached for the door and ushered the other in. Carina sighed. It seemed like that kind of love simply didn’t exist for her--never had and never would.

“Carina?” A hand appeared in front of her face. “You passed it.”

“What?” Carina looked to the store in front of her. “The Apple store is right there.”

“Uh...my bad,” Henry said sheepishly. “The little grocery store right next to it? It’s got piles of apples in front of it all spring and summer. I've always just called it the apple store. Sorry.”

Carina laughed.

“The apple store,” she said. “Well, we’ve all got our own names for things.”

Henry jogged past her to grab the door and held it open for her. Carina nodded to him, the closest that she could bring herself to thanking the boy that had dragged her around all night. Carina chided herself; Henry had no fault in her annoyance. She had the ability to turn him down each time he asked...why hadn’t she? It was nearing eleven--she’d had every excuse to leave. What on earth was keeping her? A ride home, she reminded herself as she stepped through a drafty area.

“She needs,” Henry paused and glanced at his phone, “milk, eggs, butter, vanilla extract…”

“Is she on a baking spree?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time. Coconut? Where the hell am I supposed to get coconut? It’s winter in Connecticut, for goodness sakes!”

Carina tried to hide her laugh, but a snort escaped her. Henry looked up.

“What?”

Carina lost it. Who was this boy, anyway? She had never met anyone, certainly no one at Yale, that would run his mother’s errands at 11:15 at night because she had decided to whip up yet another batch of who-knows-what.

“You, Turner, are quite a character,” she said at last. He nodded.

“I believe it. Do you know what shortening is?”

“Henry, how do you not know what shortening is?”

“Hey, it’s not as if I haven’t made cookies before! I’ve just never used shortening,” he mumbled.

Carina marched Henry over to the refrigerators. She pulled open a door, coughed at the cold blast of air that escaped, and pulled out a package of shortening. Henry, awe-struck, reached for it without a word and looked down at the mystery substance.

“So it’s like butter?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. Thanks.” He paused. “So why does she need butter and shortening?”

Carina shrugged. The rest of the grocery run was only slightly less eventful; Henry knew what the rest of the ingredients were, and it took a mere three laps around the shop to locate the coconut. Finally, fifteen minutes from midnight, Henry and Carina made their way to the cash register. A girl with a nose piercing raised her eyebrow and popped her gum.

“Well, aren’t you two cute.” Carina felt her heart drop. “I thought you’d never leave. This all?”

“Y-yeah. Uh, yes. Thank you.” Henry’s stammering response granted Carina the smallest bit of relief; she hadn’t been the only one struck with such a reaction. While the cashier rang up their baking goods, Carina let her gaze wander so that she wouldn’t have to look at Henry after the moment of monumental embarrassment.

“Sour gummy worms?” Carina exclaimed suddenly, grabbing a package. “I haven’t had these in years!”

“You like those?”

Carina nodded vigorously.

“Jack, my, uh….uncle, used to buy them for me all the time. I practically lived off of them until I got about five cavities, and then he had to stop buying them.” Carina chuckled, relishing in the memories of sitting on the docks in New Hampshire with Jack, tossing gummy worms into the air and watching Jack catch them in his mouth. She decided not to go into the whole complicated situation with Jack and Yale and the even more complicated situation with Jack and herself; it was far too late for explanations, and it had been a long week.

“Do you want them?” Carina shook her head.

“You filled me to the brim with Colombian food, remember?”

“Ah, yes. I still can’t believe that you finished that. I thought you were gonna toss it all up on me.” Carina had felt the same way and felt her lips tug at their corners, but her phone quacked, effectively dissolving the moment. It was a call from Jack.

“Do you mind if I take this?”

Henry shook his head.

“Not at all. I’ll go get the car.”

“Thank you,” Carina stage-whispered and hurried to the back of the store for some quiet.

“Hey, Jack. What’s up?”

“Hello, love. I’m alright, how are things faring on your end?”

“Fairly well--”

“What’s that loud buzzing? Are you in the freezer section of a grocery store, or are you being devoured by thousands of bees? If it’s the latter, I’m afraid I’ll have to skip out on the heroic rescue.” Carina rolled her eyes and laughed.

“No, Jack. You were right with your first guess.”

“What on earth are you doing in a freezer section of a grocery store at this hour, love?”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Hmm...I’ll have to go with shopping, but I’ve got to ask. Why?”

“I’m, uh…” Carina struggled to find the right words. “On a date? I believe it’s a date, at least.”

“Really?”

“I think. What’s it when a guy asks you to dinner at his family’s favorite restaurant and then invites you grocery shopping to pick stuff up for his mom while offering to drive you to your dorm?”

“Most likely a date, then. Who’s the guy?”

“A, uh, a Henry Turner. He’s from Yale. Not Harvard, don’t worry.”

“Wasn’t terribly worried, love. Turner, you say? Sounds awfully familiar.”

“His father is a professor.”

“Will Turner? Will Turner’s son?”

“Yes! That’s the one!”

“Must be a real dashing lad, then.”

“You know Professor Turner?” Carina was taken aback.

“Of course, love. We go way back.”

Henry burst through the door.

“Carina, there’s a police officer down the street and I’m worried he’s gonna ticket me for standing. Do you mind coming outside right now?” He sounded out of breath.

“Not a problem,” she said to Henry. “Jack, I’ll have to call you back.”

“Sounds wonderful, Carina.”

The line clicked and Carina hustled outside and all but dove into the passenger seat. Henry closed the door for her, raced around to the driver’s side, and started the car.

“Thank God. My mom would’ve killed me if I got a ticket.”

“She seems too nice,” Carina said, although she’d only seen the picture.

“You’re wrong,” Henry said with wide eyes. “She can be just about the scariest person you’ll ever meet--” His phone rang. “And that’s her right now. Hello? Yes, mom, I’m driving. Yeah, I know, but it’s fine...mom, it’s only...oh wow, it’s twelve. Yeah, I’ve got the groceries. Mom, can you wait a bit? There’s a girl in the car with me….Mom, please! It’s fine! I’ll be over in a bit, just after I drop her home.”

Carina shook her head.

“It’s fine. We can bring the stuff to your house first.”

“You sure?” Henry whispered, holding the phone away from his face.

“Of course.” Meeting Henry’s mother seemed like a great way to get a favor out of the Dean. Besides, if Carina would admit it to herself, she was curious. The Dean’s daughter was rumored to be a legend--she’d gone to Brown, but had been an Ivy sweep. There wasn’t a school that didn’t want her, and not only because she was the Dean’s daughter. Those sort of favors only applied to Yale. If anything, Carina had heard that her connections had made her entrance everywhere else harder, but she’d gotten in anyway.

“Okay, mom. We’re bringing the stuff to your house first...She said it was fine, I promise! You know what? I’ll just talk to you when I see you. Love ya, bye.”

Henry turned to Carina.

“Sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry,” she said. “Henry, isn’t your mother the Dean’s daughter?”

Henry winced and rested his head against the back of the seat.

“Yeah...yeah. She just doesn’t like when I tell people because she thinks that everyone’ll say that I got in on the Dean’s word and not my own hard work. You know mothers, they don’t want anyone taking away their baby’s credit.”

Carina didn’t really know mothers, despite Henry’s statement, but didn’t say a word about it.

“Since you graduated so early, I’m guessing it was your hard work.”

“Yeah, but people think what they want. They don’t know that the Dean has practically no say in admissions, at least not anymore.”

“Really? What does he have authority over, then?” Carina tried her best to be inconspicuous with her fact-digging, but she was fairly well convinced that she wasn’t doing a very good job at playing spy.

“Well, I don’t really know. Graduation, for one thing, and employment as well, I guess. I’m not too sure, though. Why?”

“Just considering becoming a dean.”

“I thought you were going for astrophysicist.”

“Who says I can’t be both?”

Henry laughed.

“No one, I suppose. You do seem like the type of girl that manages to do everything.”

“That’s because I am,” Carina said matter-of-factly.

Henry grinned, then leaned forwards and dug around for something.

“You’re not going to crash, are you?”

“Nope,” Henry replied, returning to his normal driving position. He handed her a bag. “Here.”

Carina opened the bag. To her surprise, it held a package of sour gummy worms from the store. Her heart fluttered slightly--who was this boy?

“You got these for me?”

“Yeah. Of course. I thought you could eat them for breakfast or something.”

“Breakfast? What on earth do you eat for breakfast, Henry?”

“I don’t know! It was the next meal I could think of!” Carina laughed--Henry was too easy to tease and too funny when riled up.

“Thank you, though. I’ll be sure to eat them for breakfast.”

“No problem,” Henry said, clicking on his blinker and pulling into a driveway. “We’re here.”

///

Henry struggled to open the door. He turned the key this way and that until Carina decided that she’d had enough and took it from him to try for herself. The lock clicked and the door opened on her first try. Henry looked at her over the bags of groceries.

“Beginner’s luck,” he joked while using his foot to push the door the rest of the way open. “Mom! I’m home!”

“Hey, Henry,” Mrs. Turner called, stepping out from behind the kitchen counter. “And hello there, Henry’s friend.” She looked at Henry directly after her statement, made a judgement based off his face, and winked at Carina.

“Thank you for letting my son drag you along to bring the groceries, dear,” Mrs. Turner said sweetly to Carina. Then, following Mrs. Weasley fashion, she turned to Henry and chided him. “What were you thinking keeping this poor girl out so late?”

“I wasn't--”

Mrs. Turner waved her son off and pulled a pen from the pile of blond stacked on her head. Her hair cascaded down in lovely golden waves--it was princess hair, Carina immediately noted. Henry had the same type, which she realized she'd been jealous of upon seeing it in the car. What was Henry to do with princess hair? It was an absolute travesty.

“And you are…?”

“Carina Smyth. It's a pleasure, Mrs. Turner,” Carina smiled slightly and extended a hand. This was a first impression she was determined to avoid screwing up, even if her hair had fallen flat and she somehow looked dumpy while in a nice dress standing next to Mrs. Turner in her pajamas--what sort of inhuman being was capable of such a feat?

“The pleasure is all mine, my dear. I was worried that Henry would get lost under his pile of classics and never make any friends.” She laughed.

“I have friends,” Henry pouted indignantly.

“I'll bet,” Mrs. Turner winked and leaned against the counter. She practically oozed swagger and power; Carina had no idea what she did, but she was certain that Mrs. Turner was someone in charge of something very important.

“So, mom. What was the baking stuff for?”

“Ah,” Mrs. Turner reached for the bag, which Henry handed over immediately. “It seems random, but I wanted to learn how to bake almond cookies.”

There was no “sorry for keeping you out late,” no excuse for the oddness of it all--Mrs. Turner lived unapologetically in her own image. Forget being an astrophysicist, Carina decided that she wanted to be Elizabeth Turner.

“Almond cookies? Why would you need coconut for that?”

“Flavor, Henry. Flavor. I see you found everything without a problem.”

“He didn't know what shortening was,” Carina said with the raise of her eyebrow.

“Henry, my darling Henry…” Mrs. Turner shook her head. “You will be spending more time in the kitchen with me! Come Thanksgiving, I'll have you baking like a pro.”

“Mom, you never spend time in the kitchen. And are you even any good at baking?” Henry asked tentatively, as if testing the waters.

“Absolutely not! But I'm sure you'll do well.”

“How can I--”

Henry was silenced by what Carina could describe as nothing other than “a look.” Mrs. Turner had raised her thick eyebrows and looked Henry right in the eye. Carina was glad that the look wasn't directed at her; she wasn't sure if she'd be able to stand her ground against Mrs. Turner, much like her son.

“Henry, don't keep poor Carina here any later! Let her get home,” Mrs. Turner shooed her son towards Carina before looking Carina directly in the eye and speaking again. “I hope to see more of you, Carina.”

“It would be a pleasure,” Carina stammered, all the while trying to ignore the heat rising in her cheeks. A compliment, or open invitation, rather, was quite a feat. It seemed to make the whole night worth it--the small talk, the snooping, and the horribly long date. Although, Carina forced herself to admit through gritted teeth, she had enjoyed some of it. Henry hadn't been nearly as dull or stupid as she'd expected the Dean’s grandson to be; she had imagined a brainless oaf who got by on legacy, while Henry had made one too many literary puns to be an idiot, despite his more-than-occasional cluelessness.

“Goodnight, mom,” Henry called, twirling his keys around his finger.

“Goodnight, love. And goodnight, Carina.”

“Nice to have met you, Mrs. Turner.”

“Same to you, Carina,” Mrs. Turner said with a nod. With that, Carina followed Henry out the door. She felt, for the first time in weeks, as if a weight had been lifted off her chest. Even though Jack’s employment wasn't yet secured, she was no longer as worried as she had been. With the Turners on her side and Henry wrapped around her finger, she could make things work to her--and Jack’s--advantage.

[boredjodyc]

5 Things Challenge

Tagged by awesome and cool folks including @ciao-agnes, @spiritofcamelot, @faerieoftara, @somedrunkpirate :D sorry I got carried away so it’s long ooops

5 things you’ll find in my bag:

Purse 

Scarf (not as pretty as Ari’s though lol)

A small notebook with a pen

Snacks

A flask of water or tea (Yes Agnes, more water is good lol)

5 things you’ll find in my bedroom:

Books (usually currently reading ones)

A collage of concert/theatre house programmes and poster of Berlin Philharmonie on the door

Miniature orchestral scores (putting them on the small shelf in the living room is strange idk)

Various trinkets from my travels

An unopened box of Neuschwanstein model I bought in Japan a decade ago even though then I know nothing of Germany then #foreshadowing lol

5 things I’ve always wanted to do in life:

Be an amateur luthier and make viols because the curves, oh the curves of those instruments always fascinate me! (CREMONA is also one of the reasons why I learn Italian ;))

Be a true multilingual (I still have areas to improve on my second language i.e. English. Dream big, they say? Lol). Master a foreign language and be able to read some masterpieces in that language (current languages of interest: German, Latin & Italian. I also wish I could have time for Greek, Ancient Greek, and Japanese!)

Do some real hiking that involves "conquering" (lol) the >3000m peaks! (I only hiked from Zermatt to Gornergrat, ~3100m! Next target: Jade Mountain (~3900m) in Taiwan :)))

Stand up and speak out for people or lives who're suppressed. Make some contributions in some ways. (It's not easy for flawed introverts like me. But hopefully one day I’d be there.)

See more of the world and learn from other people of different backgrounds :)

5 things I’m currently into:

Classics

Fandoms (Inception, James Bond, Yuri on Ice; currently taking a break from Sherlock)

Shakespeare

Real-life figure skating, esp YUZURU HANYU (who's not Yuuri sorry I have to! Also sorry for spamming some of you with his skating :P)

TEA! YES TEA! FORTNUM TEA!

5 things on my to-do list:

Book and plan for my mid-March trip and try to cut cost *screams* 

Revise and brush up my German so I won't be a beginner when I have an intensive course later

Self-learn Roman history and study hard on Latin before my trip of digging and discovery 

Get a new fish tank for my fish Artie and Eamesie

Coexist peacefully with minor anxiety and depression (owe it to you all for helping me through the year! xx) which had been quite a blow... Also find a new way in my life!

5 things people may not know about me:

I can be very picky when it comes to food and drinks (I love fine food and drams) but at the same time I fucking hate wasting food. (#snob me belongs to dumpster not edible food ok)

It takes me long time irl or here to warm to people BUT instant bonding is possible if we share something unique & similar vibes/interest (I'm sorry you all have to suffer with me :3)

I love solo hiking (#not recommended) because I need not stress myself worrying about the safety of my companions. I love moments where it's just the nature and me. And reachable targets to meet. “Free but happy”, what Brahms said.

I talk to my plant (Narcissus bought for the lunar new year!) and fish. Mainly cooing them in broken phrases of various languages that are not my mother tongue ooopsie

My best sis is currently studying to be a drama therapist- I'm so proud of her and she's utterly amazing and kind (S if you see this- this means you are a STALKER and have to treat me to a Gratte at YOI cafe stand lol)

Tagging (not obligatory of course! and probably some of you have done it so you may ignore this :P) @a-forger-and-a-point-man @amarulasmile @castillon02 @frijae @therealpigfarts23 @themuller13 @betterpausenow @monologues91 @thewibblywobblystuff

[basketdouble29-blog]

Ribs 101: Everything you need to know to make THE BEST Ribs

Everything you need to know to make the best ribs this summer! Tips for making them in your slow cooker, instant pot, smoker , on the grill or in the oven!

Everything You Need to Know to Make the Best Ribs

Marrying Parker meant I was marrying a grill master!  We have been dining on ribs and incredible grilled and smoked meats all summer long.  If you’re like me, I was in the dark about cooking ribs.  I wanted to know how to make the best ribs!  So Parker taught me everything I need to know to make the best ribs!  Here’s what he taught me…

How to Make the Best Ribs

Ribs are a classic summer barbecue food and they’re not as difficult as most people think. I’ll give you the in’s and out’s of ribs in this 101 tutorial so you can wow your family during your next backyard barbecue. You ready to learn everything you need to know to make the best ribs?

What Type of Ribs should I Buy?

Let’s start of simple. Where do you even buy a good rack of ribs?  Some people may think you need to go to a fancy butcher, and you can!  But we also find great ribs just at our local grocery stores!  They cost anywhere from $7-$10 and can feed a whole family, so it’s actually a fairly cost effective dinner! The main types are Baby Back (these are very common and the smallest), St. Louis (which are larger and flatter than the rounded baby back), and the Spare Ribs (which have slightly less meat and are just the St. Louis with the rib tips and skirt meat).  So which should you get?  The Baby Back or the St. Louis would be my suggestion.  Personally, I would go with the Baby Back only because they are smaller (plenty of meat though!) and are just easier to work with for beginners.

Here’s a photo comparing the large Spare Ribs with Baby Backs! The St. Louis ribs are between these sizes.

How to Prep a Rack of Ribs:

Everything you need to know to make the best ribs starts with prepping your meat.  Remove the ribs from their packaging (preferably in the sink) and drain any of the extra fluids. Rinse the ribs under cold water briefly and pat dry with paper towels. Then set the ribs aside on a large cutting board. If you do not have a cutting board large enough to hold the ribs I recommend using a jelly roll pan or a baking sheet.

The next step is crucial for good ribs!

You will need to remove the membrane (sometimes called the membrane sheath, or the peritoneum if you want to be anatomically correct) which is located on the underside of the ribs. This is a thin layer of connective tissue that will not only act as a barrier preventing the rub from seasoning the meat but will make eating the ribs a more difficult and unpleasant experience. The membrane is easiest to remove from a rack of baby back ribs, but shouldn’t be too difficult on the St. Louis or spare ribs. Flip the ribs so they are bone side up and run the tip of a sharp knife down the middle of one of the bones towards the center of the rack. To separate the membrane from the meat you can use a butter knife or a flathead screwdriver to pull up enough to then grip with your fingers. The easiest method is to grab a paper towel and pinch the membrane and pull toward the end of the rack slowly, taking care not to rip it to early. It’s just like taking a sticker off of something. Repeat this process on the other half of the ribs so the entire membrane is removed.

The Secrets to the Best Rib Rub:

Depending on where in the country you are you will hear different opinions on the perfect dry rub. Some people swear by their mustard powder and others prefer to leave it out. Meanwhile, there are people who live by the simple salt and pepper rub. Either way, the rub makes all the difference! I’ll give you our secret rub recipe but also a run-down on the science behind making a rub in case you decide to venture off and create your own masterpiece.

Salts:

These make up the bulk of your rub and make a huge difference.

Table Salt – Fine grain, regular table salt. Pros: incorporates best into rub mix, great for smoother rubs. Cons:

Sea Salt – Usually very coarse but you can find fine grain as well. Pros: great for finishing dishes, gives added texture. Cons: hard to incorporate into a rub, likely will not stick to meat during the rubbing stage

Kosher – Coarse and flakey. Pros: great for seasoning meats, dissolves quickly. Cons: None that I have found

Seasoned Salt – Different flavors incorporated into the salt (ie celery salt, garlic salt, sugar etc.) Pros: quick and easy since it contains many of the other spices used in a rub. Cons: you don’t know the exact amounts of other ingredients making it difficult to use as the main source of salt.

My pick: Kosher salt. It is predictable and incorporates into the rub as well as table salt but seasons the meat better.

Runner-up: Table salt

Sugars:

White Sugar – From refined cane or beet sugar. Pros: gives the same sweet flavor needed in barbeque. Cons: burns at higher temperatures.

Brown Sugar – White sugar combined with molasses during the manufacturing process. Pros: gives you the classic BBQ flavor and a noticeable crust on the meat after cooking, blends well with spices Cons: none

My pick and the safe bet: Brown sugar

Spices: 

There are spice snobs who know their stuff and can tell you exactly how to make a rub and guarantee success. Follow them or the rub recipe below and you’ll get a safe, great tasting rub. If you want to venture out of the ordinary and make your own, here’s a list of the most common ingredients and how each changes the rub.

Here are the essentials:

Black Pepper – A necessity in any rub. Can be coarse or fine, pre-ground, or freshly cracked. If you’re making a large batch of rub to keep and save for later you may want to give your arms a break and use the pre-ground pepper.

Cayenne Pepper – Whether you like it spicy or not, add this to the mix to accentuate the rest of the flavors in the rub. The more you add the more heat you’ll get. Cayenne provides a direct noticeable heat, but keep in mind it is one of many spices so you really have to add a lot if you’re trying to make it obvious.

Chili Powder – A blend of various spices and ground chile peppers. Gives your rub a more earthy and sophisticated flavor. You can find different varieties such as chipotle chili powder

Paprika – You can’t forget this one! It gives a distinct red color to your rub and meat and will help develop that gentle smokey flavor. If you like a noticeable smoke flavor then grab the smoked paprika.

The extras:

White Pepper – Light in color and offers a mild pepper flavor. Helps add a little heat but more as a background flavor.

Cumin – Common in Latin American foods but gives barbequed meats a flavorful earthiness with a light but noticeable warmth and aroma.

Onion Powder – Adds a subtle onion flavor without being overbearing.

Garlic Powder – Because everything needs garlic!

Mustard Powder – For a, well, mustard flavor. Complements the rest of the blend.

The Special Flavors:

If you want to get creative there are plenty of additional spices and seasonings you can add to give your meat that special secret flavor.

Ground Ginger – Tangy and fresh with a mild heat but noticeable sweetness.

Dried Oregano – Adds a pungent and sharp peppery flavor.

Coriander – Gives a roasted nutty flavor.

Thyme – Gives a slight mint flavor with a gently dry aroma

Keep in mind it is all about balance. The goal is to have a blend where all the components work together without having one overpower the other.

The Go-To Rib Rub: 

Ingredients

1 C Brown Sugar

1/4 C Smoked Paprika

3 Tbs. Kosher Salt

2 Tbs. Black Pepper

2 Tbs. Garlic Powder'

2 Tbs. Onion Powder

2 Tbs. Cumin

2 Tbs. Mustard Powder

1 Tbs. White Pepper

1 Tbs. Chipotle Chili Powder

1 Tbs. Cayenne Pepper

Directions

Mix all of the ingredients in a medium bowl or shake in a large ziplock back. This rub will give you enough to season 3 regular size racks of ribs. If you are making less you can save it for later or halve the recipe.

3.1

Copyright © YourCupofCake

Now that the hard part is over it’s time to rub those ribs! Get out your pre-made Go-To Rib Rub and sprinkle it over the ribs evenly and then gently pat or rub it around so it has a nice even coat. Flip the ribs and coat the bottom. You don’t have to be as precise or thorough on the bottom since it is mostly bone but you definitely don’ want to miss it! It generally takes about 1/4 to 1/2 cup of rub to season a rack.

Let the ribs rest for anywhere from 1 hour to 72 hours. If you plan to let them rest for longer than an hour put them in the fridge to keep them fresh. I usually just do one hour but a lot of people recommend 24 hours as the perfect amount to let the flavors sink in deep. If you are in a bind and need to cheat the time, you can get away with 30 minutes and I won’t tell anyone.

The Ultimate Guide to Cooking Ribs:

Meat thermometers are incredible for cooking!  We cook ours too 200 degrees to melt all the connective tissues… that makes them super tender! We could go on and on about meat thermometers but we’ll get back to everything you need to know to make the best ribs.

How to Smoke Ribs:

Smoking the ribs is my personal favorite because it gives that classic barbecue taste. You might even be able to convince your kids you picked them up from a nearby barbecue restaurant. Follow this simple procedure to guarantee yourself some tasty ribs that fool-proof:

1) Preheat your smoker to 275 degrees

2) Place the ribs bone side down for 90 minutes, spraying with apple juice or cider every 30 minutes. The juice will keep the ribs from drying out and add to the flavor of the rub.

3) Pull the ribs off and wrap them in foil. Brush 2 tablespoons of honey butter (equal parts honey and room temperature butter mixed) over the top of each rack before sealing the foil.

4) Place the ribs back on the smoker in the foil, bone side up, for an additional 90 minutes.

5) Pull the ribs off the smoker and place them in a cooler for 15-30 minutes to let the juices redistribute in the meat. Don’t worry the ribs will still be piping hot!

6) (Optional) Place the ribs on a baking sheet. Brush your favorite sauce over the top and put them under the broiler for 3-5 minutes or until the sauce tightens with the ribs and becomes nice crust.

Takeaways for Everything You Need to Know to Make the Best Ribs in a Smoker:

Smoking ribs (and any meat in general) is all about low and slow. Keep that heat low to ensure your ribs stay tender and full of flavor. I prefer to smoke with hickory because it is a versatile wood and works well with ribs. Just be sure not to over smoke the ribs because too much hickory can result in a slightly bitter flavor. Oak is another good option and is very easy to work with.

How to Grill Ribs:

The grill is the classic way to go and there’s no better place to be during the summer than out on the back porch grilling. Follow this guide for the perfect grilled ribs:

1) Preheat your grill to 325 degrees using an indirect heat method. If you are using a gas grill using only half of your burners leaving one side of the grill off. If you are using a charcoal grill, keep the coals on one side of the grill and add soaked, drained, hardwood chips to the charcoals.

2) Arrange the ribs on the grill away from the direct heat and fire.

3) Cook the ribs until you can easily insert a toothpick between the bones, or the internal temperature reads 200 degrees on a thermometer.

4) Brush the ribs with your favorite sauce and finish them over the direct heat for 3-5 minutes.

Takeaways for everything you need to know to make the best ribs on the grill:

Indirect heat is crucial. If your grill is too hot or the ribs are over direct heat your ribs will cook quickly and be tough. Or worse, your ribs will burn on the outside will the inside is not yet done. The last few minutes over direct heat will give you a great crisp texture on the outside with perfectly juicy, tender ribs.

How to Cook Ribs in a Slow Cooker:

This is the perfect solution to great ribs without having to babysit the smoker or the grill! Toss the ribs in before leaving the house and come back to great smelling delicious barbecue. It doesn’t get easier than this:

1) For one rack of ribs, cut the rack in half and put the first half in laying flat. Coat ribs with your favorite barbecue sauce and repeat with the other half laying on top of the first. For two racks of ribs, place the ribs standing up against the walls and brush with sauce (see picture).

2) Place the lid and set the slow cooker to low for 8 hours or high for 4 hours.

3) Spoon the sauce at the bottom of the pot over the ribs before removing and cutting.

How to Cook Ribs in an Instant Pot:

Craving ribs and you only have an hour? This is your solution. Break out your instant pot and follow this simple guide:

1) Pour 1 cup of water into the Instant Pot.

2) Place the trivet in the Instant Pot (the wire rack that should have come with it) so the ribs aren’t touching the bottom of the cooker.

3) Place the ribs on the trivet.

4) Place the lid on the cooker and cook for 25 minutes on Manual > High-Pressure Cooking.

5) Once finished, allow the steam to release naturally (about 10 minutes).

6) Finish the ribs on the grill or under the broiler for 5-10 minutes (optional).

How to Oven Bake Ribs:

Just as easy and convenient as the slow cooker, baking ribs a good alternative if you don’t feel like firing up the grill or smoker:

1) Preheat your oven to 275 degrees

2) Wrap the seasoned ribs in foil and bake for 2 hours

3) Remove the ribs from the foil, brush with sauce and rewrap

4) Continue baking the ribs for an additional 1 1/2 to 2 hours or until the meat falls off the bones

How to Cut Ribs:

I find it easiest to turn the ribs on their side so you can see the bones clearly, and then run a knife between each bone. Now your ribs are ready to devoure!

So there you have it, everything you need to know to make the best ribs this summer!

Other Recipes You'll Love!

Source: http://www.yourcupofcake.com/2018/06/ribs-101-everything-you-need-to-know-to-make-the-best-ribs.html