Kiiboy

Echo's partner!|| He/They|| Artist||Mabel, Hiyoko, Kokichi, and Marcy Kinnie|| 16 ||  Pfp by Mercy :)

[kiiboy-exe]

Emergency Contact: My Roommates || A Hermitcraft/Life series College Au

Hello! This is the Masterpost for my fanfic "Emergency Contact: My Roommates || A Hermitcraft/Life series College Au"

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4

Spotify Playlists!

GriGem // GemPearl // GemTho

Platforms!

Ao3 // Wattpad

[ethstrogen]

bravest twitter user speaking up about the truth. that man was up for grabs and gem took the opportunity

[shxxmisafreak]

can anybody hear me

[bearloonz]

You look beautiful, honey.

[kiiboy-exe]

The Way Home

The hallway is dim now, the apartment quieting down in that slow, gradual way it always does at the end of the day. Gem pads down the hall, the floor cool under her feet. Behind her, she hears the living room couch creak as someone shifts—Grian, maybe. She reaches her door and pushes it open, slipping inside before gently shutting it behind her. Her room is still, the faint glow of streetlights filtering through the curtains and painting soft shapes across the walls. Gem drops her bag on the chair by her desk and lets out a breath, rubbing her face with both hands and dragging them down slowly before pushing her hair back. The quiet presses in around her. It isn’t the same kind of quiet as before. It feels… different somehow. Through the wall she can faintly hear Grian again. 

“I’m telling you, Etho, if that couch breaks it’s not my fault.”

 “You’re the one jumping on it.”

“That is slander.” Gem snorts softly despite herself. She changes into her nightgown, moving slower now that the exhaustion has fully caught up to her. When she finally sits on the edge of her bed, the mattress dips gently under her weight. She pauses there, thinking carefully. The nightmare from the morning flickers through her mind again—the words, the looks, the awful tight feeling in her chest. Gem exhales slowly and her shoulders loosen. Okay, maybe she doesn’t have everything figured out. Maybe she still messes things up sometimes. But today… she didn’t have to handle it by herself. And that makes everything feel lighter. She pulls the blanket up over herself and lies back against the pillow. Pearl’s low murmur drifts through the wall.

“Go to bed.” 

Grian’s playful tone answers immediately. “I am going to bed.”

Etho sighs. “…You’re in the kitchen.” 

“…Oh.” Gem presses her face into the pillow to hide a quiet laugh. Her eyes grow heavier as the quiet deepens. And when sleep finally pulls her under this time, her chest isn’t tight anymore. For the first time in a while—she sleeps easily.

Gem wakes up the next morning a little earlier than usual. The apartment is unusually quiet. She just lies there staring at the ceiling, letting her brain slowly catch up with the fact that she’s not at “home” anymore. No shouting. No doors slamming. No heavy footsteps pacing outside her room. Only the faint hum of the air conditioner and the distant sound of traffic drifting up from the street outside. Her chest rises and falls slowly. Her head doesn’t hurt as much today. That’s… weird. Gem sits up carefully and rubs the sleep from her eyes with the heels of her palms. Her hair sticks up in several directions, and she pushes it back absently before reaching for her phone on the nightstand. The screen lights up. 6:12 AM. 

She sits there for another moment, considering crawling back under the blanket. But the quiet presses in a little too much for that. So she gets up anyway. The floor is cool under her feet as she pads out of her room, careful not to make too much noise out of habit more than anything else. 

The hallway is dim, soft morning light slipping through the living room windows and stretching long across the floor. Grian’s blanket is still tossed across the couch in a loose pile. One of Etho’s books sits on the coffee table, half-open. Pearl left a dish towel draped over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. Gem stands in the kitchen doorway for a second, just looking at it all. Then she starts cleaning. She begins with the sink. 

There are only a few things—a couple glasses, a plate someone forgot to rinse, a pan Pearl left soaking overnight. Gem rolls up the sleeves of her shirt and turns on the tap. The sound of running water fills the quiet apartment. Years of practice guide her hands without much thought. If something’s messy, you fix it. If something’s out of place, you put it back. She dries the last glass and sets it carefully into the cabinet before wiping down the sink. 

Then the counters. Lastly, the table. Crumbs disappear under a quick swipe of a cloth. Chairs get pushed neatly into place. The dish towel gets folded instead of draped. Gem moves into the living room next. She folds Grian’s blanket carefully — corners lined up, edges straight—before placing it neatly over the arm of the couch. Etho’s book gets picked up and set into a tidy stack with the others he’s left scattered around the room. She straightens the pillows and adjusts the coffee table. By the time she’s done, the apartment looks… cleaner. 

She just stands there, leaning lightly against the counter as the early morning light grows brighter through the windows, warming the edges of the room. It’s… strange. Back home, mornings like this meant waiting for something to go wrong. Gem glances at the clock again. 6:34 AM. She pulls out one of the kitchen chairs and sits down, tucking one foot up under the other as she watches the light slowly spread across the apartment floor. Soon the others will wake up. Grian will probably stumble into the kitchen half-asleep. Pearl will hum while she makes breakfast. Etho will appear with a book already in his hands. The thought makes something small and warm settle in her chest.

Time passes without her noticing. The light through the windows slowly brightens, shifting from pale gray to soft gold. It stretches across the kitchen floor and creeps toward the table legs. The apartment is still quiet. Then — suddenly — a door creaks open down the hall. Heavy footsteps shuffle across the floor. Grian appears in the hallway a moment later, hair sticking up in every direction, one eye half-open while the other refuses to cooperate.

He stumbles into the kitchen, scratching the back of his head. 

“…Huh.” Gem blinks at him from the table. Grian squints slowly around the room.

“…Did we get mugged?” he asks groggily. Gem hesitates. “…What?” Grian gestures vaguely at the apartment.

“All our mess is gone.” “Oh,” Gem says quickly. “I just cleaned a little.” Grian stares at her. Then at the counters. Then back at her. “…You did all that before seven in the morning?” Gem shrugs, suddenly very interested in the table. 

“I woke up early.” “Wow,” he mutters. “Overachiever.” He drifts over to the fridge and opens it, staring blankly inside. Gem fidgets slightly with the edge of her sleeve. 

“…Sorry if I moved anything,” she adds quietly. Grian slowly turns his head toward her. “Why are you apologizing?” he asks. Gem blinks again, clearly caught off guard.

“I— I don’t know,” she says quickly. “I just thought maybe you had things where you wanted them.” Grian closes the fridge. “…Princess.” She looks up. “If I cared where things were,” he says, gesturing lazily around the kitchen, “this place would not look like a mess 90% of the time.” Gem huffs a small breath that might be a laugh. Before she can respond, another door opens down the hall. Pearl walks in a minute later, tying her hair up into a loose ponytail as she enters the kitchen. “Morning—” She flinches mid-step. Her eyes closely inspect the room. The clean counters, the neatly folded blanket on the couch, and the newly cleaned sink. Eventually her gaze lands on Gem.

“You cleaned this all up?” Gem flinches. 

“Uh — yeah. I'm sorry if I moved anything.” “What? No — that's a good thing. Don't worry about it, it's fine.” Pearl slowly reassures her, and that may have made her chest feel warm. After a few moments of silence, Gem speaks up.

“So — uh, I wanted to cook breakfast, if that's okay with you guys.” Pearl glances toward her. “You don't have to ask us, you know? You can do whatever you want, Gemmy.” Pearl studies her for a second longer but doesn’t push. Instead she opens a cabinet and pulls out a mug. 

“Well,” she says lightly, “next time wake me up and we’ll clean and cook together.” Gem nods quietly. Grian, meanwhile, has collapsed into one of the sofas. He squints at the clock. “Ugh, why does the morning exist.” “Because the world spins,” Pearl replies, and Grian groans. “No shit, Sherlock.” He throws a pillow at Pearl and she immediately catches it. “We've been living together for 17 years, I know your tricks,” Pearl says as Grian sticks out his tongue.

A third set of footsteps appears in the hallway. Etho walks in a moment later with a book already in his hand. He glances up as he reaches the kitchen. His eyes sweep the room once. “…It’s clean,” he says.

“Gem did it,” Grian says, pointing at her without lifting his head from the table. Etho glances toward Gem. Gem suddenly feels very aware of her hands. “Oh,” Etho says simply. He sets his book down on the table and grabs a glass from the cabinet. 

“Thank you.” She doesn't know how to react, but it feels nice and warm, so she traps this feeling inside of her. Pearl pours herself coffee while Grian groans dramatically into the table. 

“Pearlie, why must you be so tall?” “Ask our parents.” Pearl grabs a carton of eggs and sets it on the counter. “You want to help me make breakfast, right?” Pearl turns towards Gem. She hesitantly nods at that. 

“…Yeah,” she says softly. Pearl smiles at that, already reaching for a pan. “Good. Because if I cook alone, Grian will hover and steal ingredients.” 

“I do not hover,” Grian protests from the couch. 

“You absolutely hover,” Pearl says without even looking at him. Gem pushes herself up from the chair and walks over to the counter. The kitchen suddenly feels smaller with people in it. Pearl slides a cutting board toward her. 

“You can crack the eggs if you want.” Gem nods, careful as she picks one up. She taps it gently against the edge of the bowl. Crack. The shell splits cleanly. Pearl hums approvingly. Behind them, Grian drags himself upright just enough to rest his chin on the back of the couch. 

“You know,” he says sleepily, “this is the nicest morning we’ve had in weeks.” Gem cracks another egg. Then another. The small, normal rhythm of it settles something in her chest. Across the room, Etho sits down at the table, opening his book again like he never stopped reading in the first place. He flips a page. 

“Morning,” he says absently. “Morning,” Pearl replies. Gem glances at him briefly. 

“…Morning.” Grian suddenly perks up a little. “Wait,” he says, pointing vaguely toward the kitchen. “Are we actually getting breakfast?” Pearl rolls her eyes. “Yes.”

“Cooked breakfast?” “Yes.” His eyes widen slightly. “Wow. I feel loved.”

“You’re being fed,” Pearl corrects. 

“That’s basically the same thing.” Gem lets out a small laugh before she can stop herself. Grian notices immediately. 

 “Aha!” he says, pointing dramatically at her now. “I heard that. A laugh.” Gem freezes slightly. Pearl elbows him lightly. “Don’t scare her off.” “I’m not scaring her off,” Grian says defensively. “I’m celebrating.” “Quietly celebrate.” Grian lowers his voice to a whisper. “I’m celebrating.” Gem huffs another small laugh.

The eggs start to sizzle in the pan as Pearl pours them in, the sound filling the kitchen. The smell of breakfast slowly spreads through the apartment. Gem leans lightly against the counter, watching Pearl stir the eggs. 

“Toast?” Pearl asks. 

“I can do that,” Gem says quickly. Pearl slides the bread toward her. Gem places the slices carefully into the toaster. Behind them, Grian has fully migrated into the kitchen now, leaning against the counter. 

“Princess,” he says, squinting at Gem. 

“You cleaned the entire apartment before sunrise and now you’re making breakfast.” Gem shrugs slightly. 

“I was awake anyway.” 

“That’s terrifying,” he says. Pearl flicks a tiny bit of egg at him with the spatula. 

“Go sit down before you contaminate the food with your complaining.” Grian sighs dramatically and flops back into a chair beside Etho. Etho doesn’t even look up from his book.

“You’re loud,” he says. 

“I’m expressive.” 

“You’re loud.” The toaster pops. Gem startles slightly before quickly pulling the toast out. Pearl notices the little flinch but doesn’t comment. She just reaches over and lowers the heat on the stove. 

“Plates?” Pearl asks. Gem nods and opens the cabinet. The four plates clink softly as she sets them on the counter. It feels weird — helping without needing to be ‘perfect’ all the time. It makes her feel loved. Pearl’s voice snaps her out of her trance — she slides scrambled eggs onto the plates while Gem adds toast beside them. Grian immediately leans forward the moment the plates touch the table. 

“Finally.” 

“Wait,” Pearl says, pointing the spatula at him. “We’re all sitting first.” He groans but waits. Gem sets the last plate down. Pearl sits down, Etho closes his book. Then Grian grabs his fork. 

“This,” he declares dramatically, “is the best morning of my life.” “You said that yesterday about fries,” Etho says. “That was also true.” Gem sits down slowly with them. The chair feels warm in the morning light. For a moment she just watches them. Pearl eating calmly. Grian already halfway through his food. Etho flipping his book open again between bites. And the warmth in her chest grows just a little bit stronger.

For a few seconds, the table is quiet except for forks scraping softly against plates. Then Etho reaches for his glass without looking up from his book. He grabs… air. His hand hovers there for a second, confused. Then he slowly lowers the book and looks down. His glass is… not there. Pearl blinks.

“Etho.” He looks at the empty spot on the table. 

“…It moved.” Grian immediately snorts. “You moved it,” Pearl says patiently. Etho frowns faintly, scanning the table again. Gem quietly slides the glass toward him from where it had ended up next to her plate. “You pushed it over here earlier,” she says softly. Etho looks at the glass. “…Oh.” He picks it up and takes a sip like nothing happened. Grian leans back in his chair, grinning. 

“Wow. Incredible detective work.” 

“I was reading,” Etho says calmly. 

“You lost a glass.”

“I misplaced it.” 

“You pushed it two inches.” 

“It traveled.” Pearl sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. Gem presses her lips together to keep from laughing. Etho glances at her over the top of his book.

“…You can laugh,” he says. That makes it worse. Gem snorts quietly into her sleeve. Grian points dramatically across the table. “Another laugh! We’re on a roll today.” Etho quietly slides his book up higher to hide most of his face. But the tips of his ears are a little red. Pearl takes notice. 

“…You’re embarrassed.” 

“I am not.” 

“You’re hiding behind a book.” “I’m reading.” 

“You’re holding it upside down.” Very slowly, he rotates the book the right way. “…It’s a complicated text.” Grian absolutely loses it. Gem buries her face in her hands, laughing quietly now. And Etho just sits there, pretending very hard that none of this is happening.

Gem lowers her hands, still catching her breath. Her cheeks feel warm. She doesn’t remember the last time she laughed like that in front of people. Across the table, Grian is still wheezing. 

“I can’t believe—” he gasps, pointing at Etho, “—you tried to read an upside-down book.” Etho turns a page with complete composure.

“It was right side up in spirit.” 

“That’s not how books work,” Pearl says flatly. Gem presses her sleeve against her mouth again as another quiet laugh escapes. Grian immediately points at her again. 

“There it is! That’s three laughs this morning.”

“Stop counting,” Pearl says, nudging his foot under the table. 

“I’m documenting a historical event,” Grian insists. Etho takes another calm bite of eggs. 

“You’re loud.” 

“You’re jealous because I’m observant.” Etho lowers the book just enough to glance at him. “I am not jealous,” he says. “You absolutely are,” Grian replies, leaning back in his chair with far too much confidence for someone who’s already eaten half his breakfast. 

“You didn’t even notice the laughing— I did!” 

“That’s because you narrate everything out loud,” Pearl mutters, sipping her coffee. Gem watches the exchange quietly, fork paused halfway to her mouth. The conversation bounces around the table easily. Grian, of course it was Grian — suddenly looks back at her again, eyes narrowing slightly in exaggerated suspicion.

“You’re suspiciously quiet, Princess.” Gem blinks. 

“I’m eating.” 

“That’s exactly what someone hiding something would say.” Pearl lightly kicks his shin under the table.

 “Ow—!” 

“Let her eat,” Pearl says. 

“I am letting her eat,” Grian protests. 

“I’m also interrogating.” 

“You’re being annoying.” 

“Also true.” Across the table, Etho flips another page in his book, speaking without looking up. 

“She’s quiet because you keep pointing at her.” Grian slowly lowers his finger.

“…That’s fair.” Gem finally relaxes enough to take another bite of toast. The eggs are warm and soft, and the butter on the toast has melted into the bread. She didn’t realize how hungry she was until now. 

For a little while, the conversation settles again. Grian talks about a professor who gave a three-hour lecture about staircases. Pearl argues that staircases are important in architecture. Grian insists that no staircase needs three hours of explanation. Etho listens with one ear while reading. The sunlight has grown brighter now, filling the kitchen with a soft golden glow. It catches on the edge of Pearl’s mug and glints faintly off the forks on the table. Gem finishes the last bite of toast and rests her chin lightly on her hand. For a moment, she forgets to be tense. Then a chair scrapes back suddenly. Grian stands up. 

“Alright,” he announces. Pearl looks up. 

“What.” He gestures around the table dramatically. 

“This is officially the nicest morning we’ve had in weeks.” 

“You said that earlier,” Etho says. 

“Yes, but now I’m making it official.” 

“You’re not an authority.” 

“I am an authority on vibes.” Pearl groans. “Please never say that again.” Gem snorts quietly into her sleeve. Grian gasps. 

“FOUR.”

“Oh my god,” Pearl mutters. “I’m keeping count!” 

“Stop keeping count!” But Grian just grins, completely pleased with himself. Gem shakes her head slightly, still smiling as she gathers her plate. 

“I’ll wash these,” she says softly. Pearl immediately reaches over and gently stops the plate before Gem can pick it up. 

“Nope.” Gem pauses.

 “…What?” 

“We all clean,” Pearl says. Gem hesitates. 

“But I already—” 

“And we appreciate it,” Pearl interrupts gently. “But you’re not the maid.” Grian nods from across the table. 

“Yeah. Rules are rules!” 

“You made that up,” Etho says. 

“Maybe.” Pearl stands up and starts collecting plates.

“Everyone helps. That’s the rule.” Gem slowly releases her grip on the plate. The familiar reflex to just do everything herself is still there, tugging at her a little. But Pearl is already carrying dishes to the sink, and Grian has lazily grabbed the glasses. Etho closes his book with a quiet thump and stands up too.

 “I’ll dry.” Gem watches them move around the kitchen. Pearl glances back at her. 

“You can rinse if you want.” Gem nods after a second.

“…Okay.” She steps over to the sink, turning the water on again. The warm stream runs over the plates as Pearl passes them over one by one. Behind them, Grian bumps into Etho while trying to reach the dish towel. 

“Personal space.” 

“You’re tall.” 

“That’s not my fault.” Pearl sighs. Gem laughs quietly again — this time, Grian doesn’t count it. The warm water runs over Gem’s hands as she rinses another plate, soap bubbles slipping down the drain. Pearl passes her dishes one by one while Etho stands beside them with a towel, drying each plate carefully before stacking it. Behind them, Grian is supposed to be putting the glasses away. Instead, he’s leaning against the counter, watching everyone like he’s observing a documentary. Pearl notices first. “…Grian.” “Hmm?” 

“Put the glasses away.”

“I’m supervising.”

“You’re doing nothing.” 

“That is what supervising is.” Pearl flicks a small droplet of water at him. 

“Go.” Grian sighs like he’s been given the hardest job in the world and finally shuffles toward the cabinet. He opens it, squints at the inside for a second, then slowly places a glass inside. Gem glances over at him. “You’re being dramatic.” He immediately points at her. “You laughed again.” 

“That doesn’t count,” Pearl says. “Every laugh counts.” 

“It does not.” Etho slides another plate into the cabinet without looking up. “You’re loud.” Grian gasps softly. “You wound me.” “No,” Etho replies calmly. “You’re just loud.”

 Gem rinses the last fork and sets it on the counter so Etho can dry it. For a moment she just stands there, hands resting lightly on the edge of the sink. They surprisingly had a productive day so far, she hopes that it’ll continue throughout the day. Pearl bumps her shoulder lightly. 

“You okay?” Gem blinks, realizing she’d spaced out for a second.

 “Yeah,” she says softly. 

“I’m okay.” Pearl nods and goes back to wiping the counter. Grian finally finishes putting the glasses away and stretches his arms above his head with a groan. 

“Alright,” he says. “What’s the plan for today?” Pearl shrugs. 

“I have class at ten.” Grian immediately groans louder. 

“Why do you say that like it’s a normal time to go to class.” 

“You also have class at ten.” “That is deeply unfortunate.” Etho dries his hands and folds the dish towel neatly. 

“I have class at eleven.” 

“Show-off,” Grian mutters. Gem leans lightly against the counter again, listening to them argue about schedules and professors and assignments. Grian suddenly looks at her again. 

“What about you, Princess?” Gem blinks. “…Me?” “Yeah. What’s your plan today?” She hesitates for a second, thinking. 

“…I might study a little,” she says slowly. “And maybe go for a walk later.” Pearl nods approvingly. “That sounds nice.” Grian squints at her. “A walk?”

 “…Yes?”

“Voluntarily?” Gem huffs a quiet laugh. 

“Some people like fresh air.” 

“That sounds fake.” Pearl nudges him aside with her hip so she can reach the coffee maker again. “Ignore him.” 

“I feel ignored already,” Grian says dramatically. Etho picks his book back up from the table. 

“You talk too much to be ignored.”

 “Wow.” Gem watches the three of them for a moment — Pearl moving around the kitchen with ease, Grian dramatically flopping back onto the couch, Etho already halfway back into his book. For the first time in a long time, mornings don’t feel like something she has to survive — they feel like something she gets to be part of. Grian lands on the couch with a dramatic flop, one arm hanging over the back like gravity has personally offended him. 

“I still think class at ten is cruel,” he declares to the ceiling. Pearl rinses her mug and sets it on the drying rack. 

“You’ve had that class for 2 days so far.” 

“And it’s been cruel every time.” Across the room, Etho flips another page in his book. 

“You wake up at nine.”

“That’s not the point.” 

“It is exactly the point.” Gem leans against the counter, watching them. The apartment feels brighter now, sunlight spilling fully through the windows and pooling across the floorboards. The quiet from earlier has been replaced with soft movement and the low hum of conversation. Pearl dries her hands on a towel and glances toward Gem again. 

“You said you were studying today?” Gem nods. 

“Yeah. I’ve got a quiz later this week.”

 “Want the table after we leave?” Pearl asks. 

“Better lighting there.” Gem blinks slightly. 

“Oh — sure. Thank you.” Grian tilts his head over the back of the couch to look at her upside down. 

“Studying already? It’s barely morning.”

 “I like getting it done early,” Gem says. 

“That sounds fake,” he repeats. Pearl tosses a dish towel at his face. 

“Stop bullying her.”

 “I’m not bullying, I’m questioning her choices.” 

“You’re lazy,” Etho says. Grian sits up just enough to point accusingly at him. “I am efficient!” 

“You slept in my room.” 

“That was a tactical decision.” Gem hides another quiet smile behind her sleeve. Pearl notices and gives her a small grin before turning to grab her bag from the chair near the door. 

“I should get ready,” she says. 

“If I’m late again my professor might actually lock the door.”

 “That would make me happy,” Grian says. “That would be terrible,” Pearl corrects. Etho finally closes his book with a soft thump and stands, stretching slightly. “I should go too.” 

“You don’t even have class for another hour,” Grian says. 

“I like being early.” Grian stares at him. 

“You two are weird.” Pearl swings her bag over her shoulder and nudges Gem lightly as she passes. 

“Table’s yours once we’re gone.” Gem nods again, a little shy but clearly grateful. “Okay.” Grian watches this exchange with narrowed eyes. 

“…Are you two forming an alliance?” Pearl doesn’t even turn around. “Yes.”

“Rude.” Etho walks past him toward the hallway. “You’re loud.”

“I’m being oppressed.” 

“You’re dramatic.” Gem laughs quietly again. Grian perks up immediately.

“That one counts.” 

“Do not start,” Pearl warns without turning around. He sighs but doesn’t argue further. A few minutes later the apartment shifts into that small morning rush — Pearl grabbing her shoes by the door, Etho slipping his book into his bag, Grian still sitting on the couch. Pearl pauses before leaving and looks back at Gem. 

“Text if you need anything, okay?” Gem nods. 

“I will.” Etho gives a small nod toward her too. “See you later.” 

“See you.” The door closes behind them a moment later. For the first time since she woke up, the apartment falls quiet again. Gem moves over to the table Pearl mentioned and pulls out one of the chairs. Her notebook slides onto the surface, followed by a pen and her phone. Across the room, Grian finally drags himself upright with a groan. 

“…I guess I should go to class.” Gem glances up. “You guess?”

“If I don’t, Pearl will text me threats.” 

“That sounds reasonable.” He pauses halfway to the hallway and squints at her. 

“…You’re funny when you’re comfortable.” Gem freezes slightly. Then she shrugs, a little embarrassed. 

“Maybe.” Grian grabs his bag from the chair by the door. “Well,” he says, pointing at her with mock seriousness, “don’t burn the apartment down while we’re gone.”

“I won’t.” 

“And don’t study too hard.” “That’s not how studying works.” 

“Worth a try.” He opens the door, then pauses. “See you later, Princess.” 

“See you.” The door clicks shut behind him. Gem sits there for a moment, listening to the quiet apartment and the faint sounds of the city outside the windows. Then she opens her notebook. Sunlight stretches across the table, warming the paper under her hands. Gem doesn’t notice how much time passes while she studies. 

The apartment stays quiet after everyone leaves, sunlight slowly crawling across the table as the morning turns into late morning. By the time she packs up her notebook and checks the time again, it’s already later than she thought. She grabs her bag, slips on her shoes, and heads out.

The lecture hall is already half full when Gem arrives. Students sit scattered across the rows—some talking, some scrolling through their phones, others already buried in notes. The air hums with that low, restless energy classrooms always seem to have before a lecture begins. Gem slips into a seat near the middle and pulls out her notebook, the desk cold under her arms as she sets everything down. For a few minutes the room fills with quiet chatter. Then the door at the front opens. Her professor walks in and sets a stack of papers on the desk. “Alright,” he says, clapping his hands once. 

“Settle down.” The room gradually quiets. Gem straightens slightly in her seat. 

“I’ve been looking over your last assignments,” he continues, flipping through the papers, 

“and I’ve decided we’re going to try something a little different for the next project.” A few students groan immediately. He ignores them. 

“You’ll be working in groups.” More groans ripple through the room. Someone in the back mutters, 

“Oh no.” Gem’s stomach tightens a little. The professor continues, clearly used to the reaction. “And before anyone asks—no, you will not be choosing your own groups.” That earns several louder complaints. He raises a hand. 

“Because if I let you choose, you’d all cluster with the same people every time.” He looks up, scanning the room. “So instead, I’ve mixed the groups intentionally. Each group has a mix of stronger and weaker students. I want people helping each other—explaining lab interpretation, actually collaborating instead of dividing the work and disappearing.” Gem feels something twist faintly in her chest. She knows how this usually goes.

The professor picks up a paper. “Your assignment is to analyze a diagnostic case study.” The projector flickers on behind him and a slide appears showing a chart of blood test results. 

“Each group will receive a patient file. Symptoms, lab results, and microscopy images.” Another slide appears—a stained sample under a microscope. “Your job,” he continues, 

“is to determine the most likely diagnosis using laboratory data. You will also explain which lab tests were used, why they were performed, and how the results support your diagnosis.” 

He folds his arms. “Welcome to being a Medical Technologist.” Some students groan again while Gem quietly writes everything down. The professor glances back at the list in his hand.

“Alright. I’ll start reading them.” The room quiets again. “Group one…” Names are called and students shuffle around the room, moving chairs and whispering to each other. Gem listens carefully. “Group four…” More names. Then—“Group seven.” Gem sits up slightly. 

“Gem Taylor.” Her name always feels louder when a teacher says it. She raises her hand a little so the professor can see she’s there. “Good,” he says, glancing back at the list. “With—Lucas Carter.” A guy near the window groans quietly. 

“Ava Dela Cruz.” A girl a few rows behind Gem mutters, “Seriously?” “And Noah Park.” Someone farther back sighs dramatically. “Alright,” the professor says, gesturing vaguely around the room. “Groups, move together. You’ve got fifteen minutes to start discussing the project.”

Chairs scrape across the floor as people start shifting around. A tall guy with messy dark hair drops into the seat beside Gem. He glances at her notebook, then at her. 

“You’re the one who got the highest score on the last lab report, right?” Gem blinks. “…I think so.” “Lucas,” he says, tapping the desk lightly. “Nice to meet you.” Another girl slides into the chair across from them, dropping her bag on the desk with a heavy thud. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and sighs. 

“Ava,” she says flatly. “And I hate group projects.” The third group member sits down last, leaning back in his chair like he’s already given up. He offers a lazy wave. “Noah.” He glances at the worksheet the professor passed out. “Well,” he says slowly, “if she got the highest score…” He gestures toward Gem. “…that means we automatically pass.” Gem stares at them for a second before slowly pulling the worksheet closer. “…We still have to analyze the lab results,” she says quietly. Ava groans softly. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Lucas leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on the desk. 

“So what’s the case?” Gem flips the page toward them. “Patient has persistent fever, fatigue, and swollen lymph nodes,” she reads softly. Noah whistles. 

“That sounds bad.” Gem points to the chart. “Blood results too.” Lucas leans closer. “…Wait.” He squints at the numbers. “Why are the white blood cells that high?” Gem traces the line with her pen. “That’s what we have to figure out.” Ava drops her forehead onto the desk. “Sana ‘di na ko nag medtech, tangina.”

Gem quietly pulls her notebook closer and starts writing. “We could divide it,” she says. Lucas glances at the page. “…You’re already planning everything.” Gem pauses. “…Is that okay?” “Yeah,” he says quickly. “No, that’s good.” She writes carefully. “Someone researches the disease possibilities…” “Okay,” Lucas says. Gem looks up. “I’ll do that part.” Ava raises an eyebrow. Lucas shrugs. “I can Google diseases.” “That’s a very inspiring work ethic.”  "Work ethic?"

Gem looks between them. “…Are you sure?” 

“Yeah,” Lucas says. 

“You can’t do all of it.” Gem quickly shakes her head. 

“I wasn’t going to.” He glances at the page again. 

“You kind of were.” Ava snorts. 

“Getting clocked in the big 2026.” Gem fiddles with the edge of her notebook. 

“I just like planning.” Lucas nods. “It’s not a bad thing.” He taps the first bullet point. “I’ll research possible diagnoses and the lab tests used.” Gem writes his name beside it. 

“Ava could do the presentation slides.” Ava sighs dramatically. 

“Fine. But if they look ugly, that’s not my fault.” Noah straightens slightly.

“So what do I do?” Gem glances down again.

“You could explain the final diagnosis and how the lab results support it.” He shrugs. 

“Sure.” Lucas leans back in his chair again. “So basically,” he says, “Gem organizes the lab results, I research the disease, Ava makes slides, Noah explains the diagnosis.” Gem slowly writes everyone’s names next to the sections. Lucas taps the desk lightly. “When do you want the research done?” Gem looks up, surprised. 

“…Whenever works for you.” He shakes his head. 

“No, like an actual deadline.” “Oh.” She thinks for a moment. “…Two days?” “Okay.” He pulls out his phone. Gem watches him. “You’re… setting a reminder?” “Yeah.” Ava laughs. “Oh my god, he’s serious.” Lucas glances up. “Relax. I said I’d help.” Gem’s shoulders loosen just a little.

Noah stretches his arms behind his head.

 “Well, if we’re actually doing work…” he says, glancing toward the professor. 

“…Are we allowed to leave yet?” The professor is still talking with another group at the front of the room. Ava zips her bag halfway. “I’m leaving the second he dismisses us.” Gem closes her notebook carefully, the edges of the pages aligned neatly as she slides it into her bag. Lucas glances at the page one last time before she shuts it. “

You’re really organized.” Gem shrugs slightly. 

“I like knowing what’s happening.” 

“Fair.” He leans back in his chair again, stretching his legs out under the desk. After a second he adds,

“Don’t worry though.” Gem looks up. Lucas gestures lightly toward the notebook she just put away. 

“You’re not doing this alone.” Gem hadn’t realized how much she expected to until he said it. Something warm flickers in her chest. “…Thanks,” she says quietly. Ava looks between them, raising an eyebrow. “…Are we actually going to take this seriously?” Noah snorts. “Don’t jinx it.” For the first time since the professor announced the project, Gem feels like maybe—just maybe—this group might actually work, and maybe she wouldn’t have to carry the burden alone.

A few minutes later the professor claps his hands again from the front of the room. “Alright, that’s enough planning for today. I expect updates next class.” Chairs scrape across the floor as students begin packing up. Ava is the first to sling her bag over her shoulder. “I’m leaving before he changes his mind,” she mutters. Lucas stands too, stretching slightly. 

“I’ll send the research in the group chat.” Gem blinks. 

“…Group chat?”

“Oh,” Lucas says. 

“Right.” He pulls out his phone. 

“Numbers.” Ava sighs dramatically but rattles hers off anyway. Noah lazily taps his into Lucas’s phone. When Lucas looks at Gem, she hesitates for half a second before giving hers too. “Cool,” Lucas says. “I’ll make it.” A second later Gem’s phone buzzes. 

GROUP 7 PROJECT.

Noah: Hehe we are suffering together now. 

Ava: Speak for yourself. 

Lucas: 👍 

Gem stares at the screen for a moment before typing carefully. 

Gem: I can share the assignment instructions if you want. 

A few seconds pass before Lucas replies.

Lucas: Please do. 

Gem opens the case file their professor sent earlier and drops it into the chat. 

Gem: We need to analyze the patient symptoms and lab results, she types, then determine the diagnosis based on the blood work and microscopy slides.

Noah replies almost immediately. 

Noah: wow we are doing actual hospital stuff.

Gem pauses before correcting him. 

Gem: Laboratory diagnostics. Lucas reacts with another thumbs up.

Ava: im just making the slides im not diagnosing anyone. Gem lets out a quiet breath that might be a laugh.

Outside the lecture hall, the campus air is warmer than she expected. Students move around the pathways in small groups, voices overlapping with the distant hum of traffic. Gem adjusts the strap of her bag as she walks toward the exit gates. Her phone buzzes again. This time it’s a different chat. 

Pearlie: Did the project thing go okay? 

Gem smiles slightly and types back. 

Gem: Yeah. I think it will. Three dots appear immediately. 

Pearlie: See? Group projects aren't always evil. 

Gem hesitates before replying. 

Gem: I usually end up doing most of them. 

The typing bubble pauses for a moment before Pearl responds again. 

Pearlie: Not this time :p 

Gem doesn’t know why that message makes her happy, but it does. She slips her phone back into her pocket and keeps walking, the warmth of it lingering quietly in her chest. Gem walks slowly across campus, the sun higher now, casting long, gentle shadows along the paths. She tucks her hands into her bag straps, letting the warmth of the morning settle over her. Her thoughts wander back to the apartment — how the sunlight had spilled across the table, how Grian had teased, how Pearl had nudged her and smiled. Even Etho, quiet as ever, had made her feel seen.

She feels a faint tug in her chest, a mixture of gratitude and relief. For the first time in a long time, she doesn’t feel like she has to carry everything herself. It’s a small thing, but it lingers like sunlight on skin.

Her phone buzzes again.

Gem pulls it out. Another message from Pearl.

Pearlie: Don’t forget to eat lunch!

Gem smiles softly, typing back.

Gem: I’ll try.

She slips the phone back into her pocket and adjusts her pace, walking a little slower now.

Her bag bounces lightly against her side as she heads toward the library, thinking about the project. Lucas’s message pops into her mind “You’re not doing this alone.” She clenches her notebook a little tighter, letting that thought settle. She doesn’t have to be perfect. She doesn’t have to solve everything herself. Not today. Not when people are willing to share the weight.

Inside the library, it’s quiet, cool, and still. Gem finds a table by the window and slides her notebook open. The sunlight falls across the pages, warm but not harsh. She traces the lines of the lab results carefully, noting patterns, questions, and possibilities. Even without speaking to her group yet, she feels a rhythm starting to form in her mind. A rhythm of planning, collaboration, and trust.

For a moment, she just sits there, watching the dust motes float in the sunlight, thinking about the morning she’d had— the laughter, the teasing, the simple presence of people who cared. And for the first time in a long while, she lets herself breathe fully, feeling lighter than she has in years.

Her phone buzzes again. Another message from Lucas.

Lucas: Got your notes. This looks solid.

Gem smiles quietly to herself. She types back a simple reply.

Gem: Thanks.

Campus feels bigger somehow, not intimidating. The noises of students chatting, shoes scuffing across pavement, and the distant call of a bird perched somewhere on a lamppost — all of it blends into a calm rhythm Gem hasn’t noticed before. She takes a deep breath, letting it fill her lungs fully, and lets her gaze wander over the familiar paths, over the library and the lecture halls she’s walked past countless times. Today, though, it feels different. Her phone buzzes again. She glances down.

Grian: I see you, don’t get lost in the crowd, Princess. 

Gem chuckles quietly. She types back, 

Gem: Not today 

Gem slips her phone back into her pocket and continues walking, the corners of her mouth still lifted slightly. It’s strange how a single message can make the world feel a little bit better. 

Gem stays in the library long after most of the afternoon crowd has filtered out. The sunlight that once stretched across the table has shifted, now falling low through the tall windows and turning the edges of her notebook a soft gold. Around her, the quiet hum of the building continues—pages turning somewhere in the distance, the soft click of keyboards, the occasional whisper between students working together. Gem barely notices. Her notebook is open, filled with careful notes about the case study; numbers, arrows, and small annotations in the margins. She taps her pen lightly against the page, eyes moving between the lab results and the printed patient symptoms. Persistent fever, fatigue, swollen lymph nodes, elevated white blood cell count. She circles the numbers again, thinking. Across the table, her laptop screen shows an article about possible infections that match the symptoms, and she reads line by line, lips moving silently as she processes the information.

Time slips by without her realizing. The sunlight fades slowly into the dull gray-blue of early evening, and one by one other students pack up and leave. Chairs scrape quietly, backpacks zip, voices disappear down the hallway. Gem stays. She flips to a new page in her notebook and writes down a few more possibilities for the diagnosis. Her handwriting is still neat, but a little slower now. Her phone buzzes on the table and she glances at it. 

Lucas: found some stuff about viral causes too. sending later. 

Gem types back quickly. 

Gem: Okay. Thank you. 

She sets the phone down and keeps working. Another hour passes. The library lights click brighter overhead as the outside light fades completely. A librarian wheels a cart of returned books past her table. Gem barely registers it. She’s halfway through rereading the blood test chart again when someone suddenly drops into the chair across from her, the chair legs scraping loudly against the floor.

Gem startles, her pen jerking across the page as she looks up. 

“…Grian?” Grian leans back in the chair like he belongs there, arms folded behind his head.

 “There you are,” he says. Gem blinks at him.

“How did you—”

“You left your location on,” he replies casually, pointing at her phone. 

“Pearl was worried you’d accidentally move into the library permanently.” Gem glances around the room and only then realizes most of the tables nearby are empty now. 

“…I didn’t notice the time.” 

“Clearly.” Grian leans forward, peering at the mountain of notes in front of her. 

“…Are those the same papers from this morning?” Gem hesitates. “…Maybe.” He looks unimpressed. “Gem.” “I’m almost done organizing the lab data.” 

“Gem.”

 “And Lucas is researching possible diagnoses, so if I prepare the—” “

Gem.” She stops talking. Grian rests his chin on his hand and studies her. “You’ve been here for hours, haven’t you?” Gem fidgets with her pen. “…Maybe.”

“Pearl made dinner.” Gem blinks. “…She did?” “Yeah.” Grian nods. “And she specifically told me to drag you home if you tried to study again.”

Gem looks down at her notebook. “I still need to finish this section.” Grian reaches forward and gently pushes the notebook closed. Gem freezes. “…Grian.” 

“Nope.” 

“But the lab interpretation—” 

“Nope.” 

“The presentation outline—” 

“Gem.” His voice softens a little. “You’re allowed to stop.” She hesitates, fingers resting on the edge of the notebook. “…Just for tonight?” Grian shrugs. “Sure. Tomorrow you can go back to terrifying your group with how organized you are.”

A quiet laugh escapes her before she can stop it, and the tension in her shoulders loosens slightly. “…Okay.” “Good.” Grian stands and watches as Gem slowly gathers her things, sliding her notebook and laptop into her bag. When she lifts the strap to put it over her shoulder, he reaches out first. “Give me that.” Gem pauses. “…What?” 

“Your bag.” He holds out his hand expectantly. “Grian, it’s not that heavy.” 

“Did I ask?” he replies, already taking the strap from her before she can protest. He slings it over his own shoulder. Gem stares at him for a moment. “…You don’t have to do that.” Grian shrugs like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Yeah, I do.”

They walk out of the library together, the building quiet behind them as the doors close. The evening air is cool, and campus lights glow softly along the pathways. For a while they just walk in comfortable silence, Grian carrying both his bag and hers without a second thought. After a minute he glances sideways at her. 

After a few minutes of walking, Grian glances sideways at Gem, adjusting the strap of her bag on his shoulder. “You know,” he says casually, “I think I saw one of your classmates earlier.” Gem looks up from the pavement. “…My classmate?”

“The tall one,” Grian continues. “Messy hair. Looked like he was trying to remember where he’d seen me before.”

Gem frowns slightly as she thinks. “Lucas?” “Yeah,” Grian says, snapping his fingers once. “I think that’s the one.” They walk for a few seconds in comfortable silence, the evening campus quieter now as most students head home. A few pass by in small groups, their voices fading as they move further down the path. Then Grian suddenly slows. “…Wait.” Gem looks up at him. “Does he come to the bakery near the campus gate?” Grian asks. Gem blinks. “…Maybe? I don’t know. I just met him today.”

Grian stops walking for a second, squinting at the air like he’s trying to drag a memory out of it.

“…Wait.” Gem pauses beside him. “He orders iced coffee,” Grian says slowly, pointing a finger like he’s piecing together a mystery. “Extra sugar. And he always sits by the window with his laptop.” Gem tilts her head slightly. “…You remember that?” “He comes in a lot,” Grian replies with a shrug. “Hard not to notice the guy who stays for three hours and forgets his drink is getting warm.” Gem considers that quietly. “…That might be him,” she admits. Grian nods once, satisfied. “Yeah. Coffee guy.” Gem huffs a small breath of laughter. They keep walking, the soft glow of campus lights stretching across the pavement ahead of them. “He looked at me earlier like he was trying to figure out where he knew me from,” Grian continues. “I guess that’s why.”

Gem glances up at him. “…Do you talk to him?” “Not really,” Grian says. “Mostly he just orders coffee and stares at his laptop all day.” “That also sounds like him.” Grian snorts quietly. They cross the street toward the apartment building, the sound of distant traffic humming in the background. After a moment Grian glances down at her again. “So that’s your groupmate now?” Gem nods. “Yeah.” “…Is he going to make you do all the work?” Gem pauses for a second, thinking about the conversation earlier. “No,” she says softly. “He said he’d help.” Grian nods once, like he’s filing that information away. “Good.” They reach the apartment entrance. Grian pulls the door open with one hand, still carrying both bags. Gem steps inside first. “…Thanks for coming to get me,” she says quietly. Grian shrugs. “Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t accidentally become a permanent library resident.” Gem smiles faintly as they head up the stairs together. They climb the stairs together, the hallway lights dim and warm compared to the bright campus outside. The apartment is quiet when they step inside, the kind of quiet that settles in after a long day. Grian drops Gem’s bag gently onto the table before kicking his shoes off by the door. “Home,” he announces dramatically, stretching his arms like he’s just returned from a long journey. Gem slips her own shoes off, the tension in her shoulders easing now that she’s inside. The familiar space feels softer after the long day—the couch slightly rumpled from earlier, the faint smell of something sweet lingering in the air from the bakery boxes Pearl sometimes brings home. From the kitchen, Pearl peeks around the corner. “Oh good, you found her.” Gem blinks. “…Found me?” Grian points at her like he’s presenting evidence. “Library goblin.” Pearl laughs, stepping fully into the room with a mug in her hands. “You were studying again, weren’t you?”

Gem rubs the back of her neck a little. “…Maybe.” “You were gone for like five hours,” Pearl says.

Gem hadn’t realized it had been that long.

From the couch, Etho glances up briefly from the book he’s been reading. His eyes flick to Gem for a second, quietly checking that she’s okay, before he returns to the page. Grian drops into the couch beside him with a dramatic groan. “I had to physically retrieve her.” “You’re exaggerating,” Gem mutters. “Am I?” Grian gestures toward her bag on the table. “Girl was preparing to live there.” Pearl walks over and nudges Gem lightly with her elbow. “Did you at least eat?” Gem hesitates. Pearl squints. “…Gem.”

“I had coffee.” “That does not count,” Pearl says immediately. Grian lifts his head from the couch cushion. “See? I told you.”

Gem sighs quietly but she can’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. “I’ll eat,” she promises.

Pearl nods approvingly and heads back toward the kitchen. “Good. I made extra pasta.”

Gem moves to sit at the small table while Pearl sets a bowl in front of her. The warmth of the food seeps into her hands as she picks up the fork. Across the room, Grian is half-sprawled across the couch, talking to Etho about something involving a bakery customer who tried to order six different pastries “just to taste test.” Etho responds with the occasional quiet comment, his voice low and calm. The apartment feels alive in that soft, comfortable way it always does in the evening.

Gem takes a bite of the pasta, warmth spreading through her chest. Her phone buzzes lightly on the table, and she glances down.

GROUP 7 PROJECT

Lucas: Found two possible diagnoses already

Noah: bro its been like 2 hours

Lucas: im bored

Ava: that’s not how motivation works

Gem smiles faintly and types carefully.

Gem: I can look at the lab results again tonight.

A second passes.

Lucas: You should sleep actually

Noah: yeah team leader go rest

Ava: wow we’re being responsible adults today apparently

Gem lets out a quiet laugh under her breath. Across the room, Grian glances over. “What?” “Nothing,” Gem says softly.

She sets her phone down and continues eating while the quiet chatter of the apartment fills the room around her. For the first time in a long time, the day doesn’t feel heavy when it ends. It just feels… full. Gem leans back slightly in her chair, listening to Grian’s exaggerated storytelling, Pearl clinking dishes in the kitchen, and the soft rustle of Etho turning a page. Her notebook sits closed in her bag. The project can wait until tomorrow.

<---Previous Next---->

[scyrens]

what the hell, sure

[kiiboy-exe]

Alone

“I can't do everything for you!” They all stare at her, focused. Grian scoffs, unamused, “Looks like our Gem isn't all that great.” Pearl sighs, “I should've known you were useless.” Etho shoots an uninterested look. He doesn't even need to say anything and it gets her heart racing.

Gem wakes up, heart beating faster than it should. She rubs her eyes, vision blurring. Her breath comes too fast, chest tight like something’s pressing down on it. The room is quiet and for a second she doesn’t know where she is. The words still echo, bouncing around her skull as if they were real. Gem presses her palm against her sternum, counting her heartbeats — trying to slow it down, trying to remind herself she’s not there, she’s not with them, they didn’t mean it like that, they wouldn’t— A soft clatter from outside her room makes her flinch.

Reality seeps back in through the cracks. The faint smell of something cooking. The low murmur of voices. She swallows hard, dragging in a shaky breath. “It was just a dream,” she whispers to herself, but her voice doesn’t sound convinced.

Her legs feel heavy as she swings them over the side of the bed. The floor is cool under her feet — grounding. Out there, the world continues spinning, like nothing happened. As if she didn’t just have the worst nightmare in her sleep. Gem wipes at her eyes, steadying herself before she stands. “I'm okay.” She keeps repeating those words until she reaches the bathroom. She stares into the mirror — messy hair, pale, and sunken eyes. She looks like shit and she hates it. She needs to look okay — she doesn't need any help.

Gem grips the edge of the sink until her knuckles go pale. For a second, she considers splashing water on her face — something cold, something that would be enough to snap her fully awake — but she doesn’t move. She just watches herself breathe in the mirror.

“Pull it together,” she mutters under her breath. She runs the tap anyway, letting the water rush loud enough to drown out the echo of those voices still stuck in her head. The sound fills the small bathroom, steady and constant. Gem cups her hands, brings the water to her face, lets it drip down her cheeks and neck. It’s cold, but it helps — even if it's a little bit.

She pats her face dry, pushes her hair back with damp hands, and practices something that almost looks like a normal expression.

Gem opens the door. The smell of breakfast hits her. Safe — in the way that makes something in her chest ache. Gem steps into the hallway slowly, shoulders tight. The low murmur of voices grows clearer, warm and ordinary, threading through the smell of breakfast. It’s so normal — it almost feels unreal after the noise in her head. In the living room, Grian is slumped on the couch, half-awake, a blanket tangled around his legs. Etho sits nearby with a book in his hands, posture loose. Pearl moves around the kitchen, humming under her breath as she flips something in a pan.

Pearl glances up first when Gem goes out. Her face softens. “Morning,” she says, gently. “You want breakfast?”

Gem hesitates in the doorway, fingers curling slightly at her sides. The echo of the dream tries to claw its way back up — “useless” — but Pearl’s voice doesn’t match it. “…Yeah,” Gem manages, voice a little rough. “Yeah, thank you.”

Pearl smiles, small but warm, and turns back to the stove. “You’re just in time.” On the couch, Grian cracks one eye open, squinting at her. “You look like you fought yourself and lost,” he mumbles, voice still thick with sleep. Etho glances up from his book, eyes flicking over her. He gives a small nod, a quiet “hey,” before returning to his page. Gem huffs a quiet, tired breath at Grian’s comment. “Feels like it,” she admits, voice soft. Her shoulders loosen, tension easing out in slow, careful increments as she steps further into the room.

Pearl slides a plate onto the counter and nudges it toward her. “Sit,” she says, easy and warm; and Gem sits. The chair scrapes softly against the floor. She wraps her hands around the edge of the counter, feeling the smooth surface under her fingers, the faint warmth from the stove nearby. The smell of food settles around her — buttery, something toasty, something sweet — and it fills up the hollow space the nightmare left behind.

Pearl sets a fork beside the plate and nudges a glass of water toward her without making a big deal of it. “Eat before Grian steals it,” she says lightly. “I would never,” Grian mutters, already halfway to sitting up. “You absolutely would,” Pearl shoots back, but there’s a smile in it. Gem almost smiles too — almost. She picks up the fork — her hands are steadier now, though not by much. The first bite feels strange — she has to remind herself how to chew, how to swallow. The normalcy of it is overwhelming in a different way than the nightmare had been. Warm food, soft voices, Etho turning a page. Nobody is looking at her as if she did something wrong and that worries her. She glances towards them and all she sees are the faces who truly care for her. Pearl’s humming, quieter than before. Grian is squinting at nothing in particular, hair sticking up in different directions. Etho shifts slightly in his seat, crossing one ankle over his knee, entirely at ease. She feels stupid now. Why did she ever doubt them? I don’t think even she knew the answer. “You’re quiet,” Etho says suddenly, not looking up from his book. Gem pauses for half a second — clearly caught off-guard, “Oh, I’m just tired,” she replies trying not to make it a big deal. Etho hums quietly, like he hears more than she’s saying but won’t press. The page turns. “Mm. You should rest after you eat then.”

Grian squints at her from the couch, rubbing one eye. “Or,” he says, voice still rough with tire, “you could sit there and let me tell you about the dream I had where Pearl burned toast and we all died.” “I did not—” Pearl starts. “You did. It was tragic.” He snorts. Gem lets out a small breath through her nose—almost a laugh. It’s shaky, but it’s there. The tightness in her chest loosens another fraction. Pearl sets another pan down a little more firmly. “Eat your breakfast before I actually burn something out of spite.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Grian says, noticeably quieter.

Silence settles again after that, but it’s not heavy. Gem takes another bite — it melts in her mouth and she thinks this is the warmest she’s ever felt. The echo from the dream is still there, faint and ugly at the edges of her thoughts — useless, not good enough, can’t do everything— but it doesn’t fit here. It doesn’t match the way Pearl keeps glancing over just to make sure her plate isn’t empty. It doesn’t match the way Grian shifts just a bit so there’s enough space on the couch if she wanted to. It doesn’t match the way Etho’s voice softened when he spoke to her. Her fingers curl a little tighter around the fork.

“Hey,” Pearl says gently after a minute, not looking at her directly this time, giving her an out. “You’ve got that meeting later, right? You want me to walk with you?”

Gem blinks, pulled back. “Oh. Uh—” she swallows. The instinct to say I’m fine, I don’t need help wallows around in her throat. “…Yeah,” Gem says instead, quieter than she intended. “I’d like that.”

Pearl hums softly, “Alrighty then.” Something in Gem’s stomach swirls — in a good way. The type of good when your stomach swirls while you're on a roller coaster. She isn't used to this feeling but it isn't necessarily a bad thing — so, she'll appreciate it while she can. Grian shifts on the couch, blanket bunching as he props himself up on one elbow. “Aw, look at you two being all lovey-dovey,” he blinks in a teasing manner. “Gross.”

“Jealous much?” Pearl shoots back immediately. “Wha— What would I be jealous of?” He says it in a tone that's half-serious and half-joking, as if he actually was jealous. Etho turns another page. “You do sound jealous,” he says mildly. “Rude.”

Gem huffs out another quiet almost-laugh, and this one comes a little easier. The knot in her stomach unwinds by another thread. She finishes a few more bites, actually tasting it this time. The food is good — warm and soft, it helps anchor her. Where nobody is calling her useless. Her shoulders drop, just a little.

“…Hey,” Gem says after a moment, voice softer, more tentative. “Thanks. For—” She gestures vaguely with her fork, at the food, the room, and them. “This.”

Pearl glances over her shoulder and smiles. “Anytime, Gemmy.” Grian gives her a lazy salute from the couch. “We aim to please.” Etho doesn’t look up this time, but his voice is quiet when he says, “You don’t have to do everything on your own, you know.” She freezes, unsure of what to answer.

Her grip on the fork tightens, then loosens again. “…I know,” she says, even if it comes out a little unsteady.

They all finish eating up and start preparing for the day. Pearl double-checking the stove is off, Grian trying to convince Etho he absolutely does not need all his books today, and Etho ultimately ignoring him. The morning air is cool when they step outside, the kind that wakes you up whether you want it to or not. Campus is already alive — voices, footsteps, laughter, the distant thud of a ball somewhere, doors opening and closing. Gem walks beside Pearl at first, their shoulders brushing every now and then — Pearl not moving away. Grian stretches his arms over his head as they walk, nearly smacking Etho with his elbow. “If I fail today, it’s on you,” he tells Etho.

“You were going to fail anyway,” Etho replies, not even glancing towards him. “Wow. Thanks for being so supportive, Etho.”

They hit the main path, and as always, people start glancing towards them. A few students whisper behind their hands. Grian notices first. He straightens just a little, grin slipping into place. “Ah, yes,” he murmurs. “Our adoring fans.” “You are actually delusional,” Etho replies calmly, turning a page. Pearl doesn’t necessarily care about that part. But she does care with the way some of those looks slide past the group and settle on Gem.

A glance that lingers too long. A whisper paired with a quick look-over. Someone nudging their friend and tilting their chin in Gem’s direction. Pearl’s expression doesn’t change much — not enough for someone like Gem, who’s busy staring at the pavement and counting her steps. But Grian sees the way Pearl’s eyes narrow just a fraction. Etho notices the subtle shift in her posture — the way her shoulders square, the way she adjusts her path half a step closer to Gem without making it obvious.

Another pair of students passes by. One of them looks at Gem, then leans over to murmur something.

Pearl stares towards them. They immediately look away. Gem doesn’t see it. She’s too focused on keeping her breathing even, on not letting the leftover ache from the nightmare crawl back up her spine. A group by the benches goes quiet as they walk past. One of them starts to say something, then catches Pearl’s eye mid-sentence and abruptly decides they have something very interesting to look at on their phone instead.

Grian snorts under his breath, low enough that only Etho hears. “You’re going to kill someone with that look.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Immediately putting up her innocent act. Etho hums softly, clearly unconvinced, but he doesn’t call her out. Gem glances sideways at them, catching only the tail end of the exchange. “…What?”

“Nothing,” Grian says immediately, waving a hand. “Pearl’s just being terrifying as usual.” “I am not.”

Another set of students approaches from the opposite direction. One of them looks Gem up and down, slow. Pearl notices it. Her gaze snaps over. The student falters, looks away, and keeps walking. Grian watches the whole thing out of the corner of his eye, eyebrows lifting. “…Wow,” he mutters. Etho turns a page. “Mm.”

Gem keeps walking, unaware, focusing instead on the feel of her shoes against the pavement and the warmth of the sun on her shoulders. They reach the fork in the path where their classes split. Grian points one way. “That’s me. If I don’t show up tomorrow, assume I’ve perished.”

“You won’t,” Etho says. “You’ll oversleep.”

“Rude.”

Etho nods toward another building. “I’m this way.”

Pearl turns to Gem. “We’ve still got a bit,” she says easily. “I’ll walk you to your room.” Gem nods, adjusting her bag. “…Okay.” Grian starts to head off, then pauses, glancing back at Pearl with a grin that’s a little too knowing. “Try not to threaten anyone on the way, yeah?” “I don’t threaten people.” “You absolutely do.” Gem looks between them, confused again. “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” Pearl says at the same time Grian says, “Everything.” Etho just hums, already walking away. Gem shakes her head, a little amused despite herself, and turns back toward her building with Pearl beside her. The crowd thins a little on this path, but the looks don’t stop entirely. They reach the entrance.

“Text me when you’re done,” Pearl says, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “We’ll meet up after.” Gem nods. “…Yeah. I will.”

There’s a small pause. “…Thanks,” Gem adds, softer. “For walking with me.”

“Anytime,” Pearl replies. Gem gives her a small smile — real, this time — then turns and heads inside.

Pearl stays where she is for a second, watching until the doors close behind her.

Only then does she turn away.

As she heads back across campus, more people look at her — the usual whispers, the usual attention.

Pearl doesn’t notice a single one of them.

Grian, from halfway down the path, watches her go and snorts to himself. Etho, beside him, doesn’t look up from his book when he says quietly, “You’re smiling.” “I am not.” “Mm.”

By the time their last classes let out, the day has softened.

The late afternoon light spills gold over the walkways, long shadows stretching across the campus paths. The air’s warmer now, the earlier bite gone. Students drift out in clusters, voices louder, lighter — the end-of-day relief settling in. Gem steps out of her building and spots them almost immediately. Grian’s sprawled on a low concrete wall, one foot propped up, animatedly telling a story with his hands. Etho stands beside him, half-listening, half-reading, posture as relaxed as ever. Pearl is leaning against the wall too, arms folded loosely, eyes scanning the path — and the second she spots Gem, her whole expression softens. She pushes off the wall. “Hey.” Gem walks over, something in her chest loosening at the sight of them all together, waiting.

“Hey,” she echoes, a little quieter. “How was your meeting?” Pearl asks, falling into step beside her like it’s second nature. “Uh… okay,” Gem says. “I think. I didn’t mess anything up, so that’s a win.”

“That’s a low bar,” Grian says, hopping down from the wall. “We should raise your standards.” Pearl elbows him lightly. “Ignore him.”

“I’m deeply offended.”

Etho closes his book with a soft thump. “You’ll live.”

Gem huffs out a small laugh, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. The tension she’d carried through the morning is thinner now, stretched out by hours of normalcy and the steady presence of them.

“Food?” Grian asks, already starting to walk backward down the path. “I’m starving. If I don’t eat soon I might actually die this time.”

“You said that this morning,” Etho points out.

“And yet here I am, still alive and still hungry.”

Pearl glances at Gem. “You wanna go?”

Gem hesitates for only half a second.

“…Yeah. That sounds good.”

“Great,” Grian says immediately, turning and leading the way. “I’m thinking the place just off campus — the one with the good fries.” “The one that’s always full?” Gem asks. “That’s the one,” he says cheerfully. Etho hums. “We’ll manage.”

The restaurant is only a short walk away — a small, cozy place tucked along the street just outside campus, warm light spilling out of its windows, the smell of fried food and something sweet drifting into the air. Inside, it’s busy but not packed. A few tables are open. They claim one in the corner. Gem slides into the booth first, Pearl beside her. Grian drops into the seat across from them with a satisfied sigh, Etho settling in next to him, already setting his book down at the edge of the table.

A server comes by with menus. Grian doesn’t even open his. “I already know what I want.” “Of course you do,” Pearl says, flipping hers open anyway and sliding one toward Gem. “Take your time.” Gem nods, scanning the options. “What’re you getting?” Grian asks, leaning his chin on his hand and looking at her. “Uh…” Gem glances between a couple of items. “Probably just something small.”

“Get something you actually want,” Pearl says gently. “You’ve barely eaten today.” Gem opens her mouth to say she’s fine, stops, and closes her mouth. “…Okay,” she says instead, softer. “I will.”

They place their orders — Grian ordering enough for what feels like three people, Etho something simple, Pearl and Gem somewhere in between. When the server walks away, Gem reaches automatically for her bag.

“I’ve got it,” she says quickly.

Grian and Pearl both say, at the exact same time, “No you don’t.”

Gem blinks. “…What?” “We’ve got it,” Pearl corrects gently. “You don’t have to—” Gem starts. “We know,” Grian cuts in, waving a hand like it’s no big deal. “We want to.”

“Yeah, but—”

“It’s literally fine,” he insists. “If it makes you feel better, consider it… an investment in keeping me from passing out on the floor.” Pearl rolls her eyes. “Ignore him. It’s just dinner.”

Gem hesitates, fingers still curled around the strap of her bag. “I can pay for myself, though.”

Etho speaks up this time, quiet. “We know you can.” Gem looks at him.

He meets her gaze for a second, then shrugs slightly. “Let them do something nice.”

Grian nods, leaning back in his seat. “Also, for the record, if we don’t spend the money our families throw at us, they’ll just find something worse to do with it. This is the better option.” Pearl snorts. “He’s not wrong.”

Slowly, she lets go of her bag. “…Okay,” she says, a little hesitant, but real. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Pearl says again, soft.

“See?” Grian says, pointing at her. “We’re great. Very generous. Extremely kind. You should be grateful.”

“I am grateful,” Gem says, deadpan.

“Good.” Their food arrives not long after — plates set down, the smell warm and rich and comforting. Grian immediately steals a fry off Pearl’s plate.

“Hey—”

“You weren’t eating it.”

“I was about to!”

“Too slow.”

Etho reaches over and takes one off Grian’s plate in retaliation without looking up.

Grian gasps. “Betrayal.” Gem laughs — real this time — and something in her chest settles into place. Grian tells a ridiculous story about something that happened in class, Pearl argues with him about the details, Etho corrects both of them at random times without even looking up from his food.

Gem listens, adds in a comment here and there, lets herself be pulled into the rhythm of it. By the time the plates are empty and Grian is dramatically complaining about being “too full to move,” the last remnants of the morning’s nightmare feel distant. Pearl slides out of the booth first, grabbing the check when it comes before Gem can even think about reaching for it. Grian tosses in his share without looking.

Outside, the sky has shifted into that soft in-between — not quite evening, not quite day. The streetlights flicker on one by one, warm halos blooming against the dimming blue. Grian stretches the second they step out of the restaurant, groaning. “I regret everything.”

“You say that every time you eat,” Pearl says, nudging the door closed behind her.

“And yet I never learn.”

Etho pushes the door open for a couple of students walking in behind them, then falls into step with the group. “You’ll survive.”

“I don’t want to survive, Etho. I want to thrive.”

“You ate half my fries,” Pearl adds.

“That was necessary for my growth.”

Gem huffs out a small laugh, the sound easier now, less tight around the edges. The night air is cooler than before, brushing against her skin. They start back toward campus at an easy pace, not really in a hurry to get anywhere.

For a while, it’s just quiet conversation — Grian complaining about an assignment, Pearl teasing him for procrastinating, Etho offering a solution that Grian immediately refuses on principle. Gem listens, adds a comment here and there.

At some point, Grian drifts a few steps ahead, walking backwards so he can keep talking. Etho falls slightly behind, attention split between the path and the book he’s somehow picked back up.

That leaves Gem and Pearl side by side again. Their shoulders brush. “…Thanks,” she says after a minute, voice softer than the night around them. Pearl glances over. “For what?”

“Earlier,” Gem says, then hesitates, searching for the right words. “And… dinner. And just—” She gestures vaguely, a small motion with her hand. “Being there.” Pearl’s expression softens in that quiet, steady way of hers. “You don’t have to thank me for that.”

“I know,” Gem says. “I just… want to.” Pearl nods once, accepting it without making it bigger than it is. “Okay.” They walk a few more steps in comfortable silence. Then Pearl adds, a little more quietly, “You did good today, you know.”

Gem blinks. “What?”

“Your meeting,” Pearl clarifies. “And… everything else.”

Gem’s instinct is immediate — to brush it off, to say it wasn’t a big deal, that she could’ve done better, that she—

She stops herself. “…Thanks,” she says instead, the word small but sincere. Ahead of them, Grian spins around mid-step and nearly trips over his own feet. “If I fall, I expect one of you to catch me,” he announces.

“No,” Etho says from behind him.

“Wow. Cruel.”

Pearl rolls her eyes. “Watch where you’re going.”

“Never—”

His heel catches on the uneven edge of the pavement.

It’s quick — a half-step miscalculation, a shift of weight — but enough that Grian lurches backward with a startled “—oh!” Etho’s hand shoots out on instinct, catching the back of Grian’s jacket before he can tip any further.

For a second, they both freeze like that — Grian half-leaning back into him, Etho steadying him with a firm grip.

“…You good?” Etho asks, voice low and close.

Grian blinks, a little startled, then snorts a laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” Etho doesn’t let go immediately. His hand stays there for just a beat longer than strictly necessary, making sure Grian’s balanced again before he releases the fabric and gives his shoulder a small, almost absent-minded pat.

“Try facing forward when you walk,” Etho says mildly.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Grian shoots back, but there’s a flicker of something softer in his expression when he glances over at him. “Thanks.”

Etho just hums, already looking back down at his book like nothing happened. Gem notices the exchange from a few steps back, a small smile tugging at her mouth. It's cute — the kind of cute that only happens when people are used to taking care of each other.

They fall back into step together. Grian slows so they’re all walking in one loose line again, shoulders occasionally bumping, steps falling into an unspoken rhythm.

The campus lights glow brighter now, the last of the daylight slipping away. Students pass by in small groups, laughter echoing across the open space.

By the time they reach their building, the day has settled fully into night, the earlier noise of the nightmare a distant echo that doesn’t quite reach her anymore. Pearl pauses at the door, holding it open. “After you.” Gem steps inside, warmth meeting her again, familiar and safe.

Behind her, the others follow — Grian still talking, Etho humming under his breath, Pearl bringing up the rear. The door clicks shut. And the world outside fades away, leaving just the quiet comfort of this place.

Grian drops his bag first, right by the door. “If I move any further, I might actually collapse.”

“You say that,” Pearl says, toeing off her shoes, “and then you’re the one who stays up the latest.”

“Because I suffer for my art.”

“You’re an architecture student.”

“Exactly.”

Etho, from the kitchen, adds without looking up, “Your ‘art’ is structural load calculations.”

Grian gasps, offended. “You wound me. There is beauty in structural integrity.”

“There is math,” Etho corrects.

“It can be both,” Pearl says, amused.

Grian points at her. “Thank you. Finally, someone appreciates my genius.”

Gem huffs a quiet laugh from where she’s standing. Pearl glances back at her, just briefly, like she’s checking in without making it obvious. “You good?”

Gem nods, a small, real smile tugging at her mouth. “Yeah. I’m good.”

“Good,” Pearl says softly.

They scatter a little after that — Grian drifting toward the couch with a dramatic groan, Etho heading for the kitchen to grab a glass of water, Pearl pausing by the counter to rinse her hands. Gem moves slower, taking her time hanging up her bag, toeing off her shoes, letting the quiet settle around her. The echo of the morning feels far away now.

From the living room, Grian’s voice floats over. “Etho, if I die on this couch, you’re legally required to tell a dramatic story about me.”

“You’re not dying,” Etho says, the faint clink of a glass against the counter following his words.

“You don’t know that.”

There’s a pause. Then the soft sound of footsteps. When Gem glances over, she catches it out of the corner of her eye — Grian half-slumped on the couch, one arm thrown over his face in exaggerated exhaustion, and Etho standing over him, unimpressed.

“…Move your feet,” Etho says.

“No.” Etho nudges Grian’s leg with his foot.Grian nudges back, barely opening one eye.

“Move.”

“Make me.”

There’s a long silence.

Then Etho reaches down, grabs Grian lightly by the ankle, and shifts his legs just enough so he can sit at the end of the couch.

Grian lets out a very put-upon noise, but he doesn’t actually resist — just lets his legs settle across Etho’s lap like it was his plan all along.

“…Wow,” Grian says after a second, peeking at him. “So you do care.”

Etho leans back, adjusting slightly so Grian’s legs don’t fall off. “Don’t make it weird.”

“Too late.”

Gem watches them for half a second longer, the quiet, easy way they settle into each other’s space, and something warm blooms in her chest.

Pearl notices too — her gaze flicking from the kitchen, a small, knowing smile tugging at her mouth before she looks away and busies herself with drying her hands.

The apartment falls into that comfortable end-of-day lull after a while.

Eventually, they start peeling off toward their rooms.

Etho nudges Grian’s legs. “Get up. Go to bed.”

“I live here now.”

“You have a bed.”

“This is my bed.”

Pearl passes by, flicking off one of the lights. “Go. To. Sleep.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Grian mutters, finally dragging himself up, grabbing his bag as he shuffles toward the hallway.

Etho follows a second later, slower, pausing just long enough to grab his book from the coffee table.

Gem lingers in the living room a moment longer, the quiet settling in around her, the last of the day unwinding from her shoulders. Pearl comes up beside her, leaning lightly against the wall.

“…Hey,” Pearl says, voice soft in the dim light. Gem looks over.

“You did good today,” Pearl repeats gently. “I mean it.” Gem’s throat tightens, but she nods. “…Thank you.”

There’s a small pause.

Then Pearl smiles, softer than before. “Get some rest, okay? You’ve got another long day tomorrow.”

Gem lets out a quiet breath. “…Yeah. I will.”

Pearl gives her shoulder a gentle squeeze — brief, grounding.

“Goodnight, Gemmy.”

“Goodnight, Pearlie.”

Pearl heads down the hall after the others, leaving the living room quiet and still.

Gem stands there for a second longer, listening to the soft sounds of doors opening and closing, Grian’s muffled complaining, Etho’s low reply, Pearl’s quiet laugh threading through it all. She exhales, slow and steady, then turns off the last light and heads to her room.

And when she finally lies down, pulling the blanket up around her shoulders, the silence doesn’t feel heavy anymore — It feels calm. And she thinks she wouldn't trade it for anything else.

<---Previous Next---->

[blueishspace]

Oh look! A totally normal skiing livestream!

The totally normal livestream:

[finncakes-png]

ouhhh come back to me buttercups i miss youuuuu🥺🥺🥺

i absolutely adore their s11 outfits and aesthetics it surprisingly works so well together

extra doodle!!

[blacktofade]

Etho calling gem to say sorry about calling her "homely" in the REPO gaming, it develops into a confession

I slipped and wrote a thing.

---

Gem’s barely ended her stream and closed out of Steam when her Discord starts to jingle with an incoming call.

In all honesty, out of everyone, she expects it to be Grian. Probably still wide awake, needing someone to annoy as he gets ready for bed. But she blinks at the name on her screen.

“Did you misclick?” she asks as she answers the call.

“What?” Etho says with obvious confusion in his voice. “No, I meant to call you.”

She stares at the screen, brows pulling down into a frown. She’s worked with him for years, but she’s still no closer to understanding anything about him — including why he’d feel the need to call her right now.

“Were you missing me?” she asks. “It’s been a whole thirty seconds since we last spoke.”

“I — no,” Etho says with a barely-there laugh. “I just — ”

She doesn’t interrupt, letting the silence stretch as she waits for an explanation from him, knowing he has to crack eventually.

“I didn’t know that’s what it meant,” he says abruptly, and Gem blinks.

“What?”

“Homely,” he clarifies. “I looked it up after everyone — I don’t think you’re ugly.”

There’s a tightness forming in her stomach, a knot of anxiety that grows with every word Etho says.

She waits an extra beat before saying, “Okay?”

“That’s why I called,” he continues, and then falls silent, letting her turn over the words in her mind.

“You called to tell me you don’t think I’m ugly.”

“Yeah, you — I don’t think you’re homely.”

It’s one of the most bizarre interactions she’s ever had with him. Including the time he flat out asked her in the middle of a Hermit Meeting what an ethogirl was. And she’d had to explain the concept to him in front of twenty of her much older peers.

“Thank you?” she replies, adjusting her mic, staring at where his icon flickers, picking up sounds — maybe his breathing — though she can’t hear anything. “You could’ve just said that earlier.”

“I didn’t want to make the game awkward.”

He doesn’t offer anything more than that and Gem purses her lips.

“So, this is an apology,” she says and there’s a long beat where he doesn’t answer, like maybe he nods before realizing she can’t see.

“Yeah. I thought — ” Etho could probably explain his thought process until he’s blue in the face and she still wouldn’t get it. “ — to clear the air.”

“There wasn’t really anything in the air,” she tells him. “I didn’t take it personally.”

“Oh,” he says quietly. “You sounded upset.”

“I was surprised,” Gem admits. “I expected it from Skizz, but not you.”

She laughs, but he doesn’t follow suit, and it feels like she needs to offer him an olive branch.

“Say the magic words,” she tells him, “and we’ll forget this ever happened.”

She wants to hear him say I’m sorry. She could be the first person ever to get a genuine apology from Etho and she’s not going to miss the opportunity.

“Magic words,” he echoes, and she finds a little joy in watching him struggle to understand.

“Those two little words,” she encourages. “I want to hear you say them.”

There’s a heavy silence from Etho’s end of the call.

“What?”

His voice is weaker, not as boisterous as it usually gets when he’s joking around, trying to rile her up. He’s struggling to keep up, losing her line of logic.

“We were just talking about it,” she presses. “I want to hear you say it. Just for me. No one else has to know.”

She smiles as she hears him pull in a heavy breath, and it’s clear he’s overthinking — whatever it is that’s buzzing around in his mind, he’s twisting it into knots.

“I — ” he starts and then stops. “You’re hot.”

He says it in a rush, almost too quick for her to decipher the words, but then she freezes.

“What?”

“If I’d known what homely meant, I wouldn’t have said it,” he carries on. “But I think — you’re very attractive, Gem.”

Silence fills the space between them and in the corner of her screen, she sees the time tick up by another minute.

“Are you still there?” he asks eventually and Gem finally blinks.

“I meant I’m sorry,” she says with a heavy exhale, her whole face burning as her hands clutch at the edge of her desk. “The two words: I’m and sorry. I wanted to be the first to get an Etho apology.”

She draws in a ragged breath and the silence grows heavy again.

She has no idea what to do with the information, and she’s not sure what’s worse — Etho thinking she’s plain, or Etho thinking she’s hot.

“I — I’m sorry,” he says and she hiccups out a laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

“Oh my god. It’s a little late to say it now, Etho,” she tells him. “I actually think I need another one.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, and he sounds so earnest that Gem can’t even make fun of him for it. “I didn’t — I thought — ”

He’s going to tangle himself in his own thoughts and find a way to never talk to her again if she’s not careful.

“You thought I was asking — why would the magic words ever be you're hot?”

“I don't know,” Etho starts. “I — are you mad?”

“No,” Gem says quickly, and it's the truth.

The EthosLab just admitted to thinking she's hot. She's not mad at all.

“I think it's a little unfair,” she tells him, taking a breath, and he pauses.

“Why unfair?”

She adjusts her mic again out of habit.

“I don't know what you look like,” she says, “so I can't comment on your appearance at all.”

“Oh,” he replies carefully. “Maybe that's for the best.”

“Are you homely, Etho?” she asks, unable to stop her smile, and she knows he must hear it in her voice because he lets out a breath that's almost a laugh.

“I think I deserve that one,” he tells her gently, and Gem's smile widens.

“I think so,” she agrees. “Though you could always prove me wrong.”

She's pushing at boundaries she never would normally, but she has a feeling his guilt is eating him up inside and that always tends to work in her favor.

“I don't think I could.”

“Still camera shy?” she asks and Etho lets out a breath.

“No, I could show you my face, I just don't think it would prove you wrong.”

She laughs outright, head tipping back, and after a beat, he joins her with his own familiar, breathy laugh.

“That's better than any apology,” she tells him when she finally collects herself again and he hums quietly, not quite an agreement.

“I'm sorry,” he says, and his tone is even and careful — he means it.

“I know, Etho,” she sighs. “Thanks.”

It falls quiet between them, the silence not as awkward as before, but when Etho doesn't try to break it, she knows she has to.

“I appreciate the confidence boost,” she tells him, “but I actually do need to go to bed.”

“Sure,” he agrees, and then after a beat, adds, “Sleep well.”

She can't quite keep the smile out of her voice when she says, “Goodnight, Etho.”

She ends the call, quickly logging out and turning off her computer before anyone else can think to message her. She's had enough surprises for one day.

When her monitor finally goes dark, she leans back in her chair, blowing out a heavy breath.

Her cheeks are still hot with her flush when she brings her hands up to her face, and she can't help but let out a laugh, high-pitched and slightly manic.

Etho thinks she's hot.

She'll be riding that high for a long while.

Carefully, she pushes herself to her feet, stretching out the aches from sitting for so long, and on her desk, her phone dings quietly.

For a moment, she thinks seriously about switching it off, too. But with a sigh, she grabs it and opens her notifications.

It's a DM from Etho on Discord.

“One apology was enough,” she mutters to herself, wondering if he's decided she needs it in writing too.

But then the message opens and she realizes it's not another apology; it's a photo. A photo that's been marked as a spoiler.

Gem's stomach flips as she stares, but after a second, she taps the screen to clear the filter.

It's dark and blurry as hell, but there's no doubt it's a man's face.

Etho's face.

As she stares, their chat shifts and a new message from Etho appears.

Homely? he asks, and Gem's jaw drops.

[drapple-fly]

He sounds so :3 here

[kitsuneisi]

Thanks for joining the stream!!!!

[midiscout]

Hermitcraft Dispatch AU Pt. 1

Ok so I just finished playing Dispatch and I freaking LOVED it! Sooooo I thought it would be fun to combine my two current hyperfixations and make a Hermitcraft Dispatch AU!

Quick overview for those who have never played Dispatch:

In this AU Impulse works as a superhero dispatcher, someone who analyzes a team’s strengths and weaknesses and answers distress calls by the sending the hero most suited to the job. However, he’s been assigned to the Hermit Program, a team of former villains trying to become heroes. To say the least, it’s like trying to herd cats and the office and comm lines are always in chaos when the Hermits show up to work.

More hermits bios incoming to fill out the team roster! :D

[mysticalmuddstuff]

That song is now in my head again.... I'm now very interested in this AU... 🤣

[thelizardperson]

gem's got a knife!

[koiiobean]

Love thy neighbor!

[ever-so-slightly-monstrous]

One of these men is a megalomaniacal mad scientist building a secret base where he tortures and kills helpless creatures to fuel the expansion of his unnatural domain. The other is Docm77.

[heckityhecks]

When one of the ghost haunting you is judging your grocery choices 

AU WHERE MK IS HAUNTED BY AZURE LION AND LADY BONE DEMON

[ab-ber]

The fuck did we make