#finally getting to my last school year of undergrad after so many stops and starts definitely has some 'oops! you succeeded! vibes

[astriiformes]

Starting to fully sink in that I have approximately three months to put together my grad school applications (closer to four at a couple schools, but still, not a ton of time). That's... closer than I thought.

Anyway, guess who's been combing back over faculty profiles at various schools to try to find folks whose interests align with mine and getting a little stressed out. I don't know how close a match someone's research interests need to be, nor do I feel entirely ready to be reaching out to grad students to ask them about their experiences so I don't end up regretting my choice.

(And of course I'm back to having doubts I can get in anywhere, but I'm still committed to trying. Just. Getting kind of stressed about it.)

Sorry in advance for how much you all will be hearing about this over the next few months. I'm kind of scared and there's a lot riding on this hopefully working out. Which I am realizing I am maybe not as collected about as I thought now that it's starting to feel real.

[aquietplace89]

I’m a 34 year old, straight, paralegal for a criminal defense attorney. Although I have my life together, and have for the better part of the last decade, I haven’t always made the best decisions in life. Also, I come from a great family, my parents are still married, and I’ve always had a big heart, as well as an inclination to do the right thing. However, my choices and geographical circumstances have led me to make some very questionable decisions in life, as well as associate with some of the shadiest of characters (all behind me now).

As a kid I was verbally and physically abused my alcoholic father. It’s important to note that he has changed his ways, rarely drinks now, and has ditched his abusive ways. We have an amazing father-son relationship now. I grew up watching him beat my mother, my siblings, and of course, myself being on the receiving end of the brunt of the physical abuse. I credit playing his biggest punching bag due to being the oldest male. That all changed when I grew in stature and started rolling with gang members at 14. The abuse to my mom stopped as well. He learned I wouldn’t stand to see my mom beat anymore, and I always challenged him from that point on.

I always wanted to become a police officer and move up to detective. Since a child it was my dream! I always fantasized about living a high class life, like Batman. Balls, tuxedo dinners, waltzes, daily suits, the works. I wanted that lifestyle, I had to have it.

I joined the Air Force as a Military Police, or Security Forces. My traumas followed me and I got into lots of trouble since a kid. Those troubles exacerbated when I got my freedom and a paycheck, living independently in the military at 17. I was free from Him (my father). But the abuse only trickled down to the next sibling in line, and my mother. I felt the guilt of leaving them vulnerable. They didn’t have big brother to stand up to Him. I carried the guilt and drank to wash my sorrows away. At least I thought I did, but they learned how to swim.

I received a positive discharge from the Air Force, even after getting in a lot of trouble. Lots of underage drinking incidents and fights. I was a scrappy little Mexican. The positive discharge came from being an exemplary cop while on duty. I was a leader, naturally. I like to say, I was born to work with law. Others have told me the same.

I’m a year away from finishing my undergrad degree, then it’s straight into law school.

After looking at 14 years max for an ugly fight with my father in law and others, I fired 3 lawyers then represented myself at my own Preliminary Hearing. I had some charges dropped and highlighted many weaknesses in the states case. Then, right when I was sick of fighting against the odds and many lies against me, my now current boss came along and refused to let me take 2 years in prison without first taking a crack at my case. I’m so glad he pissed me off at the time by not letting me take that “deal”. I was home a few weeks after he worked my case. The first lawyer that worked my case. The other 3, well in the famous words of a retired judge, we won’t comment on them. A judge, DA, and others praised my litigation for myself. They even suggested I went to law school and become a lawyer. My 4th and final attorney throughout that horrendous nightmare, took a chance on me and is now my employer/attorney. We work very well together. Very professional as well. The two of us.

It is very important to also note, I in no way deflect blame for my actions. I wasn’t a saint the night of that incident. But I also wasn’t on an even playing field with all the fabricated accusations and lies against me. I was jumped by 3 people while I was unarmed. One had a high powered revolver aimed at my head, one had two knives, while the third beat my head to a wooden post. My biggest mistake was being hooked on steroids and displaying my rage. That is all behind me now and has shaped my future for the better.

Life has been great, but it’s also thrown many curveballs at me. I’ve never given up on life, and now I’m on a great trajectory to living the life I always wanted. The life I was destined to live. I will become an attorney.

A wise DA recently told me “it’s never too late to be whom you could’ve been” and she changed my life forever with those kind words of wisdom.

Follow me on a journey through a past of adventure, emotion, tragedy, and so much more. Also, I will take you into my current life and into my future.

[thefleetsfinest]

✧˖° → Verse Timeline

♡ ✧˖° → You’ll be my sunny day & I’ll be your shade tree ♡ ✧˖° → Single Ship Verse with @oceansfirst

★ → June 7, 2223: Leonard Horatio McCoy was born to Dr. David McCoy and Mrs. Eleanora McCoy

★ → August 2230: Seven year old Leonard falls out of a tree and breaks his arm, which was splintered and later repaired by his father.

★ → August 2237: Started High School at the age of fourteen.

★ → May 9, 2240: Met Jocelyn Darnell when she pulled him into a dance at a high school party.

★ → September 2241: Started undergrad at University of Mississippi, while still keeping his relationship with Jocelyn.

★ → May 2245: Graduated Undergrad.

★ → September: 2245: Started Medical School at University of Mississippi

★ → April 2249: Jocelyn became pregnant.

★ → May 2249: Graduated from Medical School.

★ → March 25, 2250: Joanna McCoy was born.

★ → June 15, 2250: Leonard and Jocelyn got married in a small ceremony.

★ → October 10, 2252: Leonard’s father, David McCoy passes away.

★ → November 2253: Jocelyn filed for divorce.

★ → February 2255: The divorce finalized giving Jocelyn their Georgian home, and primary custody of Joanna. Though Leonard was awarded visitation rights.

★ → May 2255: Leonard enrolls in Starfleet and meets Jim Kirk on the shuttle at the shipyard. ★ → Leonard meets Clint, Nyota, Carol, & Peter during his years in the academy and becomes quick and close friends with all of them. ★ → Carol and Clint in particular become like siblings to him and he is very protective of them. ★ → By his third year in the academy after many wild and sometimes stupidly reckless nights, and a certain incident that will not be talked about, Clint and Leonard agree to go sober together. ★ → It's one hell of a struggle at first, but eventually the two manage to make it stick. Leonard with his once daily drink allowed in order to help cope with his phobia, and Clint who can't even have a drop.

★ → Year 2258: Leonard became Chief Medical Officer on the Enterprise when his superior died during Nero’s Attack. ★ → Following the death of Nero, Jim was made Captain. ★ → In needing to make sure they have a fully staffed ship, Dr. Linda Carter was transferred to the enterprise, and they hit it off right away.

★ → Year 2259: The Enterprise is sent to apprehend the fugitive Khan. ★ → Leonard relapses after Kirk’s almost death and Linda is the one to find him, and she helps him get back on his feet. ★ → It is during this that he realizes just how much he has fallen for Linda over the last year. ★ → Before they leave for their five year mission Leonard takes some time off and invites Clint, Linda, and Peter to the farm for a couple of weeks so he can get some Jojo time in and and to introduce his family to Linda.

★ → Year 2260: The Enterprise begins their five year mission into unknown parts of space.

★ → Year 2261: Linda gets critically injured while on a mission, and it's after she is on the mend he realizes just how much he loves her and finally confesses his feelings, and the two start officially dating.

★ → Year 2263: He talks Donna into bringing Jojo out to Yorktown so he can spend more time with her. (He had plans to talk to her about a few important things like her thoughts on Linda and a possible proposal.) ★ → Once arriving at Yorktown he barely gets an hour of family time in before the ship and it's crew is ordered out on a mission in which the ship ends up crashing after being attacked, though despite all odds What was left of the crew managed to get off the planet and stop the attack on Yorktown. ★ → Leonard puts engagement thoughts on howls giving it a few months after the hell that is loosing their ship, and going home to talk and make amends with Jocelyn. ★ → While Leonard is visiting home Jojo managed to convince her mom and dad to let her go up into space on the enterprise so she can be with her dad when it’s done being built. ( She attends school with any other kids whose parents are also crew members abroad the enterprise.) ★ → Leonard proposes a month before they got back up on the new ship. Somewhere important to them because he is sappy.

★ → Year 2264: They get married, with all their friends and family there to witness it. (Jim is the officiant because he is Jim.) ★ → At an Undetermined time after Linda and Leonard have a baby boy together.

[killerandhealerqueen]

A Lawful Husbands Mafia AU prompt ♥ Rather than straightening up and going to law school, Gaon continued running with the low-level crew of gangsters he met in high school after his parents died--but he kept his sense of justice and morality, twisted though it might be. When he rescued Yohan who was being attacked in the alley, he is invited to join a legitimate mob family, headed by Yohan himself

Well, this is my final The Devil Judge prompt...thank you TDJ fandom for being so welcoming, warm, and receptive to my fics back when I started in July...it's been an honor writing for you.  I am, of course, not leaving the fandom but I will no longer be an active member or writing for this fandom anymore.  It's been fun.  Enjoy some mafia au

Gaon used to consider himself a “good boy”.  From the time he was little he was always called a “good boy” by his mother and his father…because he was a good boy.  He always helped his parents at their job, he was respectful, he was kind, he was everything a parent would want in a son.  And then…his parents died.  Died by taking their own lives due to losing everything to Doh Youngchoon…the bastard.  After the death of his parents, Gaon was no longer a “good boy” by anyone’s standards, especially his best friend’s, Yoon Soohyun, or his mentor’s, Min Jungho.  He began to run with some low-level gangsters and skip school, drink, smoke, ride motorcycles, get into fights…basically, Gaon rebelled.  And he rebelled hard.  Of course, however, since he was under Min Jungho’s guardianship, his “rebellious” stage couldn’t last forever.  His mentor/teacher had threatened many times that if Gaon didn’t start shaping up, Min Jungho would have to kick him out…and he would have nowhere to go.  And of course, Gaon didn’t want that because he liked his mentor, and he was grateful to him, so he decided to put his rebellious phase aside and get back on the “right path” as Min Jungho and Soohyun had called it.  And Gaon did well…he brought his grades back up, he stopped getting into fights, and he even got into university.  (He did not stop riding his motorcycle, but Min Jungho had to let him have it…he stopped doing everything else, so he was allowed to at least have one thing from his rebellious phase).  On his graduation day, after the ceremony, Min Jungho and Soohyun quickly congratulated him and hugged him tightly, telling him how proud they were of him and how they were “so glad” that he left his rebellious stage because now he was becoming a proper member of society.  Gaon, of course, just smiled and accepted their praise but never said anything because they didn’t know…that Gaon had never really “given up” his rebellious stage.  He just got very, very, good at hiding it.  Because after all…he was no longer a “good boy”. ~*~*~*~*~*~

After four years of undergrad and three years of law school, Gaon was officially a lawyer.  But Gaon was not your typical lawyer, oh no.  He was a lawyer who took the cases that nobody wanted to take, he listened to the clients that every lawyer thought was crazy, and the most shocking for everyone (but not shocking for him)…he took cases and defended gang members.  Amongst gang members, Gaon was probably the most trusted lawyer, as he had run with gangs in high school and regularly kept in touch with them throughout college and law school.  He knew the gangs inside and out which was why, if anyone was going to defend gang members, it was going to be him.  And the gangs were always grateful, always sending expensive presents from the best alcohol money could buy to fancy watches, fancy suits…basically anything Gaon could want, the gangs usually gave.  Gaon, of course, never knew what to do with all the fancy gifts, so he ended up giving most of them away, only keeping a few things, like a fancy alcohol or a fancy cufflink that he really liked.  He did, however, never say no to a free meal so after a successful case, when one of the gang members offered to treat him to a free meal, Gaon happily agreed.  Free food was free food, right? ~*~*~*~*~*~ After a very full meal, Gaon and the gang members decided to head home, mainly because it was late and Gaon had work the next morning.  As they walked away from the restaurant, Gaon thought he heard what sounded like grunts and groans and what sounded like a fist connecting with a face but he wasn’t sure, so he looked over at the other gang members, who were certainly drunker than him, to see if they were hearing what he was hearing and from the looks on their faces, they were.  Once he assured that he wasn’t hearing things and that it wasn’t the alcohol, he quickly rushed over to the alley where he thought he heard the fighting and saw two men swinging punches at each other…well, one was swinging the punches, the other was doing his best to not get the shit kicked out of him.         “Yah!” Gaon shouted, making the attacker look over at him with wide eyes as he quickly swung a punch, catching the attacker in the face, causing him to go stumbling away from the man, who looked at Gaon in slightly veiled surprise.  The attacker then glared at Gaon before he growled.         “Why don’t you mind your own damn business, pretty boy?” he spat as he threw a punch at Gaon, who immediately dodged before sucker punching him in the stomach, causing him to choke in surprise.  Gaon then grabbed him by the collar of his shirt before throwing him towards the other gang members, who all cracked their knuckles at the thought of fresh meat.         “Go to town, boys” Gaon called out, the gang members nodding before they began wailing on the poor attacker.  While they were beating the shit out of the man, Gaon turned his attention back to the man who was being attacked, looking him over before he tsked.         “You need to get looked at” he murmured before he reached out and grasped the man’s arm, the man immediately wrenching his arm out of his grasp.         “I don’t need any help” he murmured.  Gaon scoffed.         “Bullshit.  You look awful.  You definitely need a shower” he stated as he grabbed the man’s arm again, dragging him out of the alley.  He then looked at the gang members, who were still punching the shit out of the attacker and huffed.         “Yah, yah, yah, I just got you guys out of jail, don’t fucking put yourselves back in there.  Leave him be…he looks almost dead anyways.  Go home” he ordered.  The gang members looked up at him and nodded before they quickly turned and walked away from the attacker, who was panting heavily on the ground, making Gaon sigh as he looked at him before he looked at the man he was holding.         “Wait a moment” he instructed before he walked over to the man and knelt down before him, snapping his fingers in front of him.         “Hey, hey.  Can you hear me?” he demanded.  The attacker nodded slowly making Gaon smile.         “Good.  Now, I want you to listen to me very carefully.  You…are not welcome here.  If I see or get word of you showing your face around here again…those men that just kicked your ass just now?  Yeah, I’ll have them kill you.  Don’t fucking try me.  Now get your ass up and get out of here” he ordered.  The attacker nodded and slowly pushed himself to his feet before he stumbled away, Gaon watching him with a small smile before he pushed himself to his feet and walked back over to the injured man, who raised an eyebrow at him.         “Are you a gangster?” he asked.  Gaon raised an eyebrow at him before he laughed.         “Ah…I used to be.  I’m a lawyer now, but I keep in contact with my friends from the gangs and I usually take their cases…but no, I’m not a gangster” he answered.  The injured man hummed as Gaon took him by the arm and slowly guided him over to Gaon’s car, helping him into the passenger seat before he got into the driver’s seat, quickly buckling himself in before turning on the car engine, driving out of the parking lot, heading home.

~*~*~*~*~*~ When they reached Gaon’s apartment, Gaon looked over at the injured man, who had fallen asleep during the ride, and sighed softly before he reached out and gently shook his shoulder, causing the man to jolt in surprise before he looked around, only for his eyes to finally land on Gaon’s.         “Hey…we’re here” Gaon murmured, his voice soft.  The man blinked before he nodded, Gaon smiling before he opened his door and got out, the man doing the same before they both walked over to the stairs that led to Gaon’s apartment.         “I hope you’re okay with climbing stairs because uh…that’s the only way to get to my house” Gaon stated before he began walking up the stairs.  The man stared after him before he sighed and followed after Gaon, doing his best to hide his heavy panting and grunts of pain.  Once they had reached the top, the man blinked in surprise at the multitude of plants that adorned the house.         “You certainly like plants” he mused.  Gaon smiled.         “Yeah, they’re fun.  And they bring a bit of life into my rather boring life” he replied.  The man huffed.         “Your life does not seem boring, at all” he stated.  Gaon laughed.         “Oh, you don’t know how wrong you are.  I don’t hang out with the gangs all the time…just sometimes.  Most of the time, my days are spent doing paperwork or listening to a fucking prosecutor go on and on about how my client is wrong, yada yada yada.  Really, being a lawyer isn’t glamorous.  Just lots of fucking paperwork” he replied as he headed inside, the man following after him.         “You can go ahead and take a shower first.  I’ll try and find you some clothes that’ll fit” he stated, glancing over his shoulder at the man, who nodded before he headed over to the only room that he figured could be the bathroom, since Gaon’s apartment was so small.  He then stepped inside and quietly closed the door behind him before he let out a heavy sigh and began to strip himself of his clothes, making sure to neatly fold them and place them on the counter before he stepped into the shower and turned on the water.  He waited for the water to warm up before he turned on the spray, letting himself stand under the water for a few moments, letting the sweat and the blood wash off of him as well as allow the water to soothe his aching muscles.  After standing under for the water for a while, the man quickly washed his hair before washing himself down, making sure that he was clean.  Once he was clean, he stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel, quickly wiping himself down before he stared at the counter in surprise; his old clothes were gone and in its place was a pair of grey sweats, a grey sweatshirt, and a pair of boxers.  The man hummed before he finished toweling off, placing the towel on the towel rack before he changed into the clothes, stepping out of the bathroom afterwards.  As soon as he stepped out of the bathroom, Gaon looked up from where he was sitting on the edge of his bed and smiled.         “Oh good, they fit.  I was afraid they’d be too small.  They’re too big for me, but they fit you just right” he declared.  The man hummed as Gaon patted to the space next to him, a small smile on his face.  The man frowned but slowly padded over and sat down, Gaon immediately reaching out, gently grasping his face.  The man hissed and Gaon smiled apologetically before he reached over and grabbed a small Q-tip covered in ointment, carefully applying it to the abrasion on the man’s temple and to the corner of his mouth.         “Jesus, he really beat the crap out of you” he murmured as he looked the man over.  The man huffed.         “Normally I’m a better fighter…he just caught me off guard” he murmured.  Gaon raised an eyebrow.         “Oh, are you a gangster too?” he asked.  The man shook his head.         “Mafia” he answered.  Gaon’s eyes widened.         “Mafia?” he repeated, studying the man’s face for a moment before he let out a gasp of shock.         “You’re…you’re Kang Yohan” he breathed.  The man, Kang Yohan, smirked.         “Astute observation.  And you are?” he asked.  Gaon blinked before he cleared his throat.         “Kim Gaon” he answered.  Yohan hummed.         “A gangster turned lawyer?  There’s something you don’t see every day” he mused.  Gaon huffed.         “Yeah well…I honestly wasn’t planning on becoming a gangster before but…you know…life happens” he murmured, his voice turning soft as he pulled the Q-tip away and threw it into the nearby trashcan.  Yohan raised an eyebrow before he titled his head at him.         “What happened?” he asked, not sure if he was allowed to ask but something within him just…wanted to know.  Gaon looked at him before he sighed and looked away.         “Uh…my parents died.  Well, committed suicide, actually” he murmured.  Yohan’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth to apologize when Gaon held up his hand.         “Don’t…please don’t.  I’ve heard…enough apologies to last a fucking lifetime.  So please.  Just save it” he whispered.  Yohan looked at him for a moment before he hummed.         “Can I ask…why your parents died?” he murmured.  Gaon nodded.         “They uh…they got scammed.  Lost their entire life’s savings…lots of people did.  You know Doh Youngchoon?” he asked, looking over at Yohan.  Yohan nodded.         “I’ve heard of him” he replied.  Gaon nodded again.         “Yeah, he…he fucking…” he started as tears came to his eyes and he clutched at his pants legs, trying his best not to lose his composure in front of Kang-fucking-Yohan.           “He fucking…took so many people’s money…and lost it.  He scammed people of their entire life’s savings…and when he went to prison, you know how many years he got?” he demanded, looking over at Yohan, who calmly shook his head.         “Seventeen fucking years.  He hurt so many people and he only got seventeen fucking years” Gaon hissed, tears streaming down his face in anger.  Yohan nodded slowly in understanding as Gaon let out a shuddering breath.         “I was so angry…so hurt…that I rebelled.  I skipped school, I ran with gangs, I drank, I smoked…I did everything that would have probably sent my parents to an early grave if they weren’t already dead” he murmured.  Yohan hummed.         “What made you become a lawyer then?” he asked.  Gaon laughed softly.         “It’s stupid…but I thought if I became a lawyer, I could put people like Doh Youngchoon away…but then I realized I wanted to help people more than prosecute, so I became a defense lawyer.  Which is why I end up helping so many gang members.  Because who else is going to help them?  Not some snooty, uptight lawyer who thinks they’re God’s gift to this fucking earth…no, it’s going to be the lawyer who has a past with them, who understands them, understands their lifestyle, where they came from…that’s why I help” he explained.  Yohan looked at him before he shook his head.         “I don’t think that’s stupid at all” he murmured, making Gaon look over at him with wide eyes as he reached out and gently wiped away his tears with his thumb.  Gaon blinked in shock as Yohan smiled.         “But you know…if you actually want to make a bigger difference…you could always come work for me” he offered.  Gaon looked at him in shock.         “Work…for you?” he repeated.  Yohan smiled.         “I’m always in need of a good defense lawyer…and I think you’d fit in just fine.  Especially with your background and all.  You’d understand where others wouldn’t” he explained before he smiled darkly.         “And if you wanted to take care of that Doh Youngchoon…you could.  I have ways…I could offer you assistance” he added.  Gaon blinked in shock before he shook his head.         “I don’t…I don’t know…could I think about it?” he asked.  Yohan chuckled.         “Of course.  No need to make a decision right away” he replied, just as he hissed and clutched at his side, causing Gaon’s eyes to widen.         “Ah, hang on.  Let me get you some pain meds” he stated, quickly standing up and heading into the kitchen to grab some pain meds.  While he was searching for the pain meds, Yohan stood up and began to look around, noticing two picture frames on a nearby shelf; one was of a young boy and an older man, and an older woman and the other was of an older Gaon with an older gentleman and a young woman.  As Yohan stared at the two photos, he reached out and carefully picked up the picture frame of younger Gaon and the two older adults, staring at it thoughtfully.         “Those are my parents” a voice stated, making him look over to see Gaon smiling sadly while holding a glass of water in one hand and some pills in the other.  Yohan hummed as he carefully placed the picture frame back down before turning to face Gaon, who walked over to him and handed him the pills.  Yohan then popped the pills into his mouth before taking the glass of water, taking a sip.  He then swallowed the water and the pills together before he sighed and looked at Gaon, holding out the glass.         “Thank you” he murmured.  Gaon nodded as Yohan turned back towards the picture.         “You look like your mother” he murmured, reaching out to pick up the frame again.  Gaon smiled slightly.                 “Do I?” he asked.  Yohan nodded as he looked over at him.         “Mm.  You have her eyes” he stated.  Gaon smiled.         “Thank you” he whispered.  Yohan chuckled and nodded as he placed the photo back down before yawning, making Gaon’s eyes widen.         “Oh, you’re probably exhausted.  You can take the bed” he offered, motioning to his bed.  Yohan frowned.         “What about you?  Where are you going to sleep?” he asked.  Gaon smiled.         “I can sleep on the floor.  It’s fine” he assured.  Yohan frowned again.         “Are you sure?” he asked.  Gaon nodded.         “Mmhm.  Besides, I’m not the one who got the shit kicked out him…though I’m surprised you got the shit kicked out of you, considering who you are” he stated.  Yohan huffed.         “I told you, he surprised me and caught me off guard” he grumbled.  Gaon chuckled.         “Whatever you say” he replied as Yohan walked over to the bed and laid down, letting out a soft groan as he let himself relax into the bed.  Gaon watched him for a moment before he walked over and carefully placed the blanket over him, making Yohan look up at him with wide eyes.         “Get some sleep” he murmured.  Yohan continued to stare at him before he hummed and shut his eyes, sleep soon taking him thanks to the pain medication Gaon gave him.  Once he was asleep, Gaon stared down at him before he slowly sat down beside his bed, watching as Yohan’s chest rose and fell, not realizing how tired he was until his eyes began to flutter and before he knew it, his head was resting in his arms, his own chest rising and falling as sleep took him. ~*~*~*~*~*~ The next morning, Yohan slowly opened his eyes and let out a soft groan, his entire body aching.  He then began to look around, realizing that he was not in his own bedroom and not in his own house anymore.         ‘Where am I?’ he thought to himself, just as he heard soft breathing from beside him, making him look over to see Gaon asleep next to him, his face looking so young.  Yohan stared at him for a moment before he remembered the night before and he let out a soft hum.         ‘Right…I’m in his house’ he thought to himself as he slowly sat up, careful to not wake Gaon from his slumber, but it was too late, the movement of the bed made Gaon slowly lift his head and blink before he looked up at Yohan, both men staring at each other before Gaon blinked.         “Good morning.  Did you sleep well?” he asked, his voice still heavy with sleep.  Yohan smiled.         “I did.  Thank you” he replied.  Gaon nodded as he slowly pushed himself to his feet, hissing as he massaged his neck.         “Fuck, that was not a comfortable position to sleep in” he murmured.  Yohan chuckled.         “I think the bed was big enough…I think we could have shared it” he stated.  Gaon’s eyes widened and he blushed before he cleared his throat.         “I wouldn’t want to share my bed with an injured person…what if I hurt you in my sleep?  I wouldn’t even know.  No, it was better that you took the bed” he stated.  Yohan hummed before he sighed.         “Do you have my suit?  I don’t think it would be appropriate for me to come home in this” he explained, motioning to the outfit he was wearing.  Gaon’s eyes widened before he nodded.         “Oh yeah” he replied, quickly heading into the kitchen area before coming back with Yohan’s neatly folded, but still dirty, suit.         “Here you go” he declared.  Yohan smiled and reached out, taking his suit before standing to his feet, heading to the bathroom to change.  After he changed, he stepped out of the bathroom, once more dressed impeccably in his suit, making Gaon hum.         “You’ll probably have to get that suit dry-cleaned…it’s kind of dirty” he mused.  Yohan chuckled.         “Probably” he agreed.  He and Gaon then stared at each other, neither man saying anything before Gaon cleared his throat.         “I can uh…take you home” he offered.  Yohan’s eyes widened before he nodded.         “That uh…that would be appreciated” he replied.  Gaon smiled before he turned and headed towards the front door, grabbing his keys off the hook, Yohan following after him, both men slipping on their shoes.  As they headed out of the house, Yohan let out a heavy sigh.         “Oh, Elijah’s going to kill me” he murmured.  Gaon looked over at him and raised an eyebrow.         “Elijah?  Who’s she?” he asked.  Yohan smirked.         “My niece” he answered.  Gaon’s eyes widened before he held up a finger.         “Wait a minute” he instructed as he quickly walked over to his wall of many plants, searching them until he found a pretty pink succulent, carefully plucking it from its spot on the wall.  He then walked back over to Yohan and held it out to him, Yohan looking at it in confusion.         “What is that?” he asked.  Gaon smiled.         “For your niece.  As an apology” he explained.  Yohan blinked in surprise before he reached out and took the succulent, looking at it for a moment before he looked back at Gaon.         “Thank you” he murmured.  Gaon smiled and nodded before he headed down the stairs to where his car was parked, Yohan following slowly after him, since he was still sore from yesterday.  Once they reached the car, they both quickly got inside before Gaon looked over at him.         “You gotta be my navigation, boss.  Cuz I have no idea where you live” he stated.  Yohan smiled before he nodded.         “Start the car” he instructed.  Gaon nodded and quickly turned on the car, shifting it into drive before he took off, driving away from his apartment. ~*~*~*~*~*~ After driving for what seemed like forever, Gaon finally reached Yohan’s house, a big black mansion out in the middle of literal bumfuck nowhere.           “Holy shit, you live here?” Gaon breathed as he pulled into the driveway.  Yohan hummed.         “I do” he replied.  Gaon then looked over at him in shock.         “Just you and your niece?” he asked.  Yohan chuckled.         “It’s been in the family for years so…yeah” he answered.  Gaon shook his head.         “Jesus, I wouldn’t know what to do with all this space” he murmured.  Yohan scoffed.         “Well, it’s certainly much bigger than the hamster cage that’s your apartment” he replied.  Gaon hummed.         “That’s fair” he agreed as Yohan looked at him.         “Think about my offer, hmm?  I’d like to have you on my team, Gaon, a part of my family” he stated.  Gaon’s eyes widened and he stared at him for a moment before he nodded.         “I’ll…think about it” he murmured.  Yohan smiled and nodded before he got out of the car, succulent in hand, and headed towards the front door, Gaon watching him the entire time.  He waited till Yohan had unlocked the door and stepped inside before he shifted the car into reverse and backed out of the driveway, giving the mansion one last look before he shifted the car into drive and drove away, heading back towards the city. ~*~*~*~*~*~ As he drove back to the city, Gaon couldn’t get Yohan’s words out of his head.  How Yohan wanted him…to be a part of his family.  After his parents died, Gaon really never had a family.  He had Soohyun and Jungho, but they weren’t his…family.  And he missed that.  Having a family.  And if he could get that with Yohan…even if his family was a “mob” family…shouldn’t he take it while it was being offered to him?         “Ah, fuck it” he grumbled, quickly pulling a u-ie before speeding back towards Yohan’s mansion. ~*~*~*~*~*~ Gaon soon arrived at Yohan’s mansion and quickly pulled into the driveway again, this time putting the car into park and killing the engine, making sure that his parking brake was on before he got out of the car, slamming his door behind him.  He then walked over to the front door and rang the doorbell, patiently waiting for someone to answer it.  He thankfully didn’t have to wait very long because soon the door opened and a young girl in a wheelchair, around sixteen, with light skin, long black hair, and brown eyes stared at him.         “What do you want?” she demanded.  Gaon blinked, just as Yohan appeared, a look of surprise on his face when he saw Gaon.         “Gaon.  What are you doing here?” he asked.  Gaon looked at him before he cleared his throat.         “I’d like to um…join” he answered.  Yohan raised an eyebrow before he smiled and nodded.         “Of course.  Come in” he insisted as he looked down at the girl.         “Elijah, move out of the way, please” he asked.  The young girl, Elijah, huffed but did as she was told, rolling out of the way so that Gaon could enter the mansion.  As soon as Gaon stepped inside, Yohan shut the door behind him before he looked at Gaon and smiled, clapping him on the shoulder.         “Good boy.  Good choice” he praised.  Gaon’s eyes widened, and tears immediately began to fill them, making Yohan look at him in shock.         “Gaon?” he whispered, Gaon quickly shaking his head as he wiped at his eyes.         “God, sorry.  It’s just…I haven’t heard that phrase in such a long time” he murmured.  Yohan frowned.         “What phrase?  Good boy?” he asked.  Gaon nodded as he hung his head.         “My mom used to say it to me all the time…after she died, I haven’t heard anyone say it to me…I mean, why would they?  I ran with gangs, I drank, I smoke, I played hooky…I wasn’t a good boy” he whispered.  Yohan looked at him before he huffed and reached out, gently grasping his chin between his thumb and index finger, lifting Gaon’s head so that he was looking into his eyes.         “I don’t know about you, Kim Gaon, but I think the choices you’ve made…with helping the gangs and all, taking the cases that no one wanted to take, helping the people whose voices who wouldn’t have been heard if you hadn’t helped them…I think those choices have made you a good boy.  And I think your mother would be proud of you” he murmured.  Gaon’s eyes widened, and more tears filled them before spilling down his cheeks.         “Really?” he whispered.  Yohan chuckled as he released Gaon’s chin and wiped the tears away with his thumbs.         “Yes, I think so” he agreed as he pulled away and turned, heading towards another room in the mansion before he paused and looked over his shoulder at him.         “And I think she’d still think you’re a good boy if you took care of Doh Youngchoon…that way he can’t hurt anyone else” he stated before he kept walking.  Gaon watched him walk away before he laughed and wiped at his eyes, following after Yohan.  Huh.  Who knew after all these years…even with all the choices he made…he was still a good boy.

[tobesobri]

When the Lights Go Out (Halloween fic; 8k)

𝖆/𝖓: first off, happy Halloween yall! This is my second favorite holiday and so I really wanted to get something up in celebration of it! I’ve talked a lot on here about having trouble with writing recently and so I do what I normally do with writer’s block and I just leave what I’m stuck on and go off to write something random, which is what this ended up being. So, my writing style is definitely different and maybe not great, but this is just for fun so I don’t care! I still hope you enjoy! There’s spookiness (not too much), enemies (frenemies) to lovers, pumpkin carving, smut, alcohol consumption, and giant skeletons 💀 (oh and Harry dressed as Tarzan 🥵)

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𝕸ost people’s Halloween traditions weren’t too complicated; usually involving cult-favorite scary movies—ranging from Halloweentown to Nightmare on Elm Street—handing out Snickers and Kit-Kats to tiny trick-or-treaters, or just getting wasted at a friend’s haunted house party down the street. Their friend group, on the other hand, opted for a pumpkin carving contest every year on Halloween at Jason Hallow’s house, and, yes, his favorite holiday is Halloween because of his last name. And so, a few years ago when they were all undergrads together, he began hosting the annual carving contest at his house, in which they all paired up and, at the end of the night, whichever pair’s pumpkin came out the best—as judged by Jason, the resident Jack O’ Lantern expert—won whatever candy was leftover. That and marathons of R-rated horror flicks as well as occasional breaks to go out in the neighborhood and scare some of the kids while dressed in terrifying monster masks and slightly drunk off their asses from too much Tennessee whiskey.

Jason’s house was, hands down, the place to be in their neighborhood. Everyone who came by always wanted to join in on their festivities, and one year, they’d been just drunk enough to let a few of-age neighbors join in. This year, though, it was different. The stakes were higher. They were competing not only for the candy, but also for the much envied twelve-foot tall skeleton Jason had found at Home Depot which currently sat in his front yard amongst his other outrageous decorations. The skeleton was definitely the most noteworthy and had been the center of plenty group photos from just about every one of his neighbors since he had brought it home and especially tonight. In fact, every time the doorbell rang and he greeted another group of kids in his gory doctor costume—because Jason was in med school after all—every one of them squealed about how much they liked his skeleton. And so it almost pained him to have to give it to one of his friends after tonight, but if he’s being honest, he has nowhere to store it—he’d purchased it completely on a whim—and next year they will compete for it all over again anyway.

Tonight is also different because Harry and Y/N are not getting along. They all knew this beforehand, but simply brushed it off until they realized it was much worse than anyone had imagined. They had a horrible friendship—if one could even call it that—ever since they’d met as freshmen pre-law students six years ago. Sometimes they got along, but mostly, they bickered non-stop at each other, which all their friends took as misguided flirting. They got along for about six months once, after a drunken hookup, until, of course, Y/N hooked up with someone else and set off the volcano that was their relationship all over again. It had been calm recently with both of them needing each other’s help through their vigorous law school studies. So, a truce had been made and they tolerated each other at best. Tonight, though, the monsters had truly been unleashed and neither one of them had stopped picking at each other since they’d arrived.

It began on the street, when Harry took the spot Y/N had wanted to park in. Then at the door, when he asked her how her midterms were going and she felt like stepping on his toes until she crushed them. Which was perfectly logical since his was barefoot and mostly naked in his stupid Tarzan costume he’d recycled about four times now since they’d all known each other. He only wore it when the weather was warm, as he claimed, but they all had a suspicion he wore it so that he could watch Y/N drooling over him all night.

She wasn’t innocent either, in his defense, at least not this year when she came dressed in a sexy Beetlejuice costume, something none of them ever thought was possible. But she made it happen. She wore a too-short black and white vertical striped t-shirt dress—which had rips in all the right places, particularly across her chest—and a pair of neon green boots that were Doc Marten knock-offs she had found online. Other than that, she had spray painted the front bits of her hair a grey-green color and did her makeup to match the theme, dark purple smokey eyes and a green color used as contour. It looked good, she looked good, not that Harry would ever say that out loud.

Jason’s entire living room and dining room floors were covered with plastic tarps. He’d set up the usual fold-away tables and chairs for everyone. It was an easy clean-up job that wouldn’t leave pumpkin guts smudged into his hardwood floors or, even worse, the beige carpet in his living room. And, as always, he had a line up of various pumpkins on his kitchen counter—and the necessary kit of carving tools—ready to go. They usually didn’t start until nine-thirty or ten, once everyone arrived and had a few drinks in them and they had all agreed on what movies to watch. This year was a marathon of The Conjuring franchise, because Jason had spent way too much money on a box set and he would not be wasting them. Nobody objected anyway because the movies held a sentimental value to all of them. Every year since the beginning when a new movie came out, they all managed to go see it together, and also cause a horrible ruckus in the theater. Although they’d almost been kicked out a couple times, it was still some of the best memories together they’d ever had.

There was also that one year, when Annabelle Creation came out and Y/N and Harry were getting along on account of the LSATs, that they’d secretly gone home together. And then, of course, pretended it never happened.

That had been the second time they slept together, the second time she’d woken in his bed, with Harry’s annoyingly toned arm wrapped all the way around her, and the last as well because Harry got into a serious relationship their first year of law school and that had been the end of things.

Well… not completely the end. At least not until tonight.

“Okay we’re getting started!” Jason announced over both the music and the television, which someone turned down before Jason continued. He stood, wobbling, on one of the foldable chairs, for no other reason than the bottle of vodka in his hand. He was teetering on the edge sobriety and really didn’t give a fuck if he fell off. “Y’all know the drill! Isa’s handing out the cards. No whining. No trading. Or you’ll be disqualified.”

The cards in question were riddles that they had to match up with the answer. Half of them got the riddle card, the other half an answer card and that would determine who their partner was.

Y/N both wanted Harry as her partner and detested the idea at the same time. She was all for it because, well, he was hot dressed in nothing but his small piece of brown loincloth fabric hanging loosely on his hips. But at the same time, she knew they wouldn’t win together and she really wanted that skeleton.

The riddles were all hand-made by Jason on his computer and then laminated in his girlfriend’s school’s teacher lounge however many years ago. They all knew every answer to every riddle by now, but it was still a much more fun way to pair up than picking names out of a hat.

Y/N read her riddle twice, having absolutely no recollection of the answer to it, however—which was probably due to the alcohol she’d consumed herself within the past hour. She wasn’t all to blame, though, Harry had a lot to do with it too. She was still mad at him, for what she wasn’t sure, but she also could not stop herself from stealing glances at him and the only way to stop feeling so many confusing things about Harry was to drown it all away.

She read her riddle one last time: The person who built it sold it. The person who bought it never used it. The person who used it never saw it. What is it?

Her brain felt like mush after the third read and she hoped someone would find her first and give her the answer. She peeked around at people’s cards as they all tried to find their pair, some of them meeting up immediately and getting the prime pick of the pumpkins. It had dwindled down to just a few of them and she finally waltzed herself up to Harry, grabbed his card from his hand without his permission and read it.

In bold, 16-point Helvetica font, it read: A coffin.

Of course.

She rolled her eyes, shoving his card against his stupid bare chest and groaning audibly. “Figures I’m stuck with you.”

When she finally looked up at him, though, she wasn’t all that upset about her odds as she pretended to be. Not with the way his face set into a devilish, wicked, up-to-no-good look that made her want to rip him from the room and rip his useless Tarzan costume off too while she was at it.

He had also been drinking, which was made even more clear when he opened his mouth. “You’ll always be stuck with me.” And then he leaned in a little bit, his smirk widening and his eyes darkening and the sweet smell of vodka on his tongue strengthening, “Forever.”

She hated the buzzing in her stomach he caused, and hated that she liked knowing they probably would, at the very least, know each other for the rest of their lives. It had already been six years since they met and she still hadn’t managed to shake him off. And now they were finishing up law school together and getting offers to work at the same firm together. There would be no escaping him, not that she really wanted to.

The only time she wanted absolutely nothing to do with him was when he had a girlfriend. She hated seeing him in her classes, in her study groups, her circles, at her internship. He was always there, though, rubbing it in her face as she had once done to him. Hers was just a dumb hookup, partially just to spite him, and his was… well he dated the girl for entire year before they broke up and he seemed genuinely heartbroken over it. It had been serious, and Y/N had been seriously miserable the entire time. Even more so when she found out they’d split up and she just about threw a party while Harry moped around campus. She couldn’t help it, though, she’d liked him ever since they met, but then they just sort of… didn’t get along all the time.

She knew he liked her too, at least a little bit, or he’d never have slept with her twice. How much he actually liked her though was still up for debate, and so she chose keeping their weird hate-love relationship over ruining all of it by admitting her feelings for him. Plus, she liked working with him and getting his help on exams and papers too much to ruin that as well.

Y/N grabbed the third to last pumpkin, an unopened carving kit, and led the way to two lonesome chairs. They sat closest to the door, and farthest from the dining room and Jason, in their own little corner where they had enough room to stretch out given that no else had laid any claim on the other side of their table yet.

“So,” Harry began once they were settled and Y/N began opening the kit of tools, “what are we making?”

Before giving him an answer, she laid out all the tools on the table in front of them, next to their poor misshapen pumpkin, and then reached down into the side of her boot and pulled out a black sharpie; she’d learned a couple years back to start brining one. It might have been cheating, sketching her design beforehand, but Jason never outlawed it.

“I’m making Jason’s favorite Tim Burton character and you’re in charge of the guts.” She dictated confidently, slapping the sawing tool and the large orange plastic spoon in front of him so he could get started right away.

He eyed the tools for a moment, then the pumpkin, and then finally her. “Absolutely not. I’m not doing all the shit work while you do the fun stuff.”

“Thought you’d be used to that.” She half-mumbled, but he still heard her over the rest of the noise in the house. And, frankly, she was right. When they had interned together last year, she always handed off the demeaning tasks to him, like getting the coffee or making copies, while she did the much more interesting parts of the job. What she didn’t know was that she didn’t make him do anything. He always did it so she didn’t have to.  

He sat back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest, arms that her eyes—which were completely out of her control at that point—glued to immediately. He’d been working out ever since the break up and finally filled out the Tarzan costume a lot better. He’d always had a nice body, she knew that, but now… now he made her dizzy.

“I’m not doing it. Least not all by myself.”

She gave up then, mostly because she lost her will to argue against the pout of his lips and the flexing of his biceps—which weren’t ridiculously big, but they were subtle and modest and very much bigger than they had been this time last year when he’d dressed up as a shirtless baseball player. Most all of Harry’s costumes involved some level of nakedness and not much sense, but she didn’t complain too loudly. And his arms were definitely bigger now than they had been the last time she was in his bed and he was over her.

“Fine.” She groaned, grabbing the mini saw tool and then standing to begin carving a hole at the top of their pumpkin, around the stem. She made it big enough for them to be able to stick their hands inside, and then once she was finished, pulled the stem piece off and set it aside for later, chopping off some loose bits of pumpkin shreds first.

Despite his earlier protests, he was the first to dig into the pumpkin, standing as well and going hands first into the thing where he pulled out fistfuls and dumped it into a pile on the table. They went back and forth digging out the insides of the pumpkin until finally, Harry grabbed the spoon and really went in. And she didn’t even bother offering to help, and instead stared, again, at his stupid biceps and especially at his hands, which were slick from the pumpkin juice. She shuddered remembering where his hands had once been, and then pulled herself together remembering how long ago it had been and how very little interest he’d shown in picking up where they’d left off pre-girlfriend.

Once the pumpkin was fully gutted, they both sat again, and cleaned their hands off on the paper towels Jason had set up on each table.

She was the first to begin the process, sketching out the design with her sharpie of Oogie Boogie from The Nightmare Before Christmas. She’d carved the character before, but still needed a reference picture on her phone to get all the details right. And Harry watched her the entire time, memorizing her face for the millionth time while she concentrated, and sometimes he stared at her hands, too, hands he also found himself reminiscing over, to the point of needing to cross his legs so it wasn’t made visibly clear what he was thinking about. He was starting to regret recycling the Tarzan costume.

While they all worked, Jason answered the door and handed out candy about once every five minutes. The best part of their tradition wasn’t the pumpkin carving itself, but rather, the atmosphere. They loved the feeling, the adrenaline rush of it all. How messy everything would eventually get, how loud they all were. The anguished shouting when someone messed something up. The sounds of Thriller playing in the background mixed with the loud jump scares from the horror movies played all night long. It was heaven to any lover of Halloween (and they all loved Halloween).

She’d let Harry start the carving of the design, informing him what parts were staying and what parts needed to be cut away, before she ventured into the kitchen to grab them both a drink. On her way back, she paused for a moment, just watching Harry work over in their corner. The sight of him almost made her want to finally admit how she felt. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad if he rejected her, at least then she’d know.

But then Zoe plopped down into her empty chair next to Harry and crushed everything back down like an aluminum can being recycled. She tossed back about half of her Smirnoff after Zoe had scooted closer to Harry and grazed her fingertips across his arm—the one he wasn’t using the carve the pumpkin. And at first, he ignored it, but then he set down the tool, pushed his hair back with his clean wrist and offered Zoe one of his annoying little smirks that Y/N always thought he saved just for her. But now, seeing him use it to flirt with Zoe, she felt stupid and betrayed. And stupid again for feeling betrayed.

She had no claim to him. She just had her memories, as inconvenient as they were at times. But that was nothing and it’d been so long that he showed any interest in her, in anybody, that for her to be jealous now was just pure selfishness. As much as she hated Harry sometimes, she still wanted to see him happy again.

Y/N made her way back slowly, eying what others were doing, until finally joining Harry again just as Zoe went back to her own pumpkin.

She was quiet for a moment, sipping on her drink, watching him as he got back to carving, before cleaning her throat as she finally said something, “What did Zoe want?” And she tried not to sound anything other than curious, but the way Harry glanced at her, with a raised brow, she knew she needed to be so much more subtle.

He took the other cup from her that she hadn’t drunk from and replenished his blood alcohol level. “She just asked me what I was doing after this.”

Instead of opening her mouth and being obvious, she just set her drink down and grabbed both the carving tool and the pumpkin from Harry to take over. He’d already done way more work than she had, so it was about time they switched anyway.

He eyed her curiously still, even though he allowed her to continue where he left off as he leaned back in his chair and took a break, downing what was left in his cup as she worked.

“You’re not jealous are you?” He finally asked, after a few moments to let his brain marinate in the alcohol in order to brave that question in the first place.

“No.” It was sharp. A piercing rejection he felt dig its claws deep into his heart. He couldn’t tell if she was lying or not, but if not, it hurt. More than he was willing to admit, even to himself. He wanted her to be jealous. He always did. That was part of the reason he’d gotten a girlfriend. And of course she was also part of the reason they broke up, if not all of it.

He nodded, “So it wouldn’t bother you if I went home with Zoe?”

He noticed her brief hesitation, when her hand stopped moving and she took in a breath of air, but then she settled again. “Doesn’t bother me what you do, Harry.”

Again, he nodded, still watching her just to get a sense of her reactions. Of course he had no plans on going home with Zoe. He just wanted to know. Where they stood. How Y/N felt about him. Whether she thought about their nights together as often as he did. When they were studying together and she’d shift her hair behind her shoulder and he’d get a whiff of her shampoo and be taken right back to one of those nights, and the nights that came after that when he got lost in that scent on his pillows until it eventually dissipated and left him craving more.

He tried again. One last time. If he still didn’t get the response he was hoping for, then he’d give it up and leave her alone. So, he sat forward, crossing his arms on top of the table, close enough to her now that the buzzing in her stomach reappeared even though she never braved a single glance at him. He was close enough that the smell of his cologne overtook the odor from the pumpkin. Close enough that she felt his breath on the side of her face when he spoke.

“So, I’ve just been imagining the way you’ve been looking at me all night then?” His voice was just above a whisper, and soft, caressing her ears as the sound crept its way inside of her. As it seeped into all the places the alcohol had been, although Harry was always something way more potent than whiskey or tequila. He made her head spin, made her feel everything and nothing at the same time. Made her heart flutter so much at times it hurt.

His words sunk in and all her motions stopped as she froze in place. She stopped carving their pumpkin, stopped blinking, stopped breathing. Staring blankly at their half-finished design until he was wrung out from her system completely. That never really happened, though, because he was staring at her, watching her with those glinting, impatient eyes, waiting for an answer. There wasn’t even the familiar hint of a smirk or a bit of amusement on his face anymore, either, that might have calmed her nerves. Because at least if he seemed to just be messing with her, she could play that game with him, but this was different.

He leaned forward a bit, trying to get her to look at him, to say something, anything, really. He’d be satisfied enough with her lies at this point. But he also knew the absence of an answer alone was all he really needed. He didn’t feel like he was getting ahead of himself, seeing the way her body reacted to him, by assuming that she felt, at least somewhat, the same way he did about her. Because if she’d been the one to ask if she was imagining how he’d been staring at her all night, he wouldn’t deny it.

Just as she opened her mouth, just as she had gathered enough words to form a coherent sentence, the room went dark. Pitch black, actually. The lights all around them flickering off, the television going blank, the music cutting out. And once the startled gasps and dramatic, drunken yelling had subsided, they were left in a ringing silence, so completely opposite to what they had been moments ago that it was painful for their ears to adjust to.

“What the fuck?” They heard Jason’s voice in the darkness and then, finally, a bit of light as he turned his phone’s flashlight on.

“Did the power go out everywhere?” Someone else asked.

And while everyone panicked, all Harry cared and thought about was Y/N’s hand wrapped tightly around his own on his lap. He wasn’t exactly sure when she’d grabbed for him, but once he realized she was there, he didn’t really care too much about the lights anymore. What he did care about still, however, was whether she’d ever answer his question now. If he’d ever get to hear what she was about to say just before the darkness cut her off.

A few of them stumbled about, making plans to go outside and check on things while everyone else stayed inside and waited. The room went dark for a few more moments as Jason left, but then someone else turned their flashlight on, and shined them at the ceiling so that there was at least enough light so that they didn’t have to sit in complete darkness.

If it wasn’t Halloween, the power going out wouldn’t have bothered her so much. Outages happened happened all the time. But now, in the middle of the second Annabelle movie with all sorts of other spooky shit around them, she couldn’t help but be terrified and imagine the worst. Like… what if there was a killer on the loose who had cut their power. What if the killer was chopping up Jason and the others and then eventually heading inside to do the same to all of them?

“Hey,” Harry mumbled beside her, inching closer and rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand, realizing she’d grown tense when her grip on him had tightened. “You alright?”

Hearing his voice again, she let out a breath of air and tried to relax. She watched way too many scary movies and this was most definitely not one of them. Just a power outage, possibly due to everyone being home and using lots of extra electricity on their lights and decorations. She had no reason to panic. Although it could be blamed on Harry as well, if he hadn’t made her an astronomical amount of nervous just before.

She nodded until she realized Harry couldn’t even see her very well. “I’m fine.” She finally affirmed, and, to his dismay, took her hand away from his.

They sat in their own silence for a while, listening to the quiet conversations around them, particularly to Zoe and Julie who were trying to look up any information they could even though their phones were slow from the lack of Wi-Fi and service.

After a little while, she found his hand again in the dark, and this time, she wasn’t afraid from the power going out, but rather what she was about to say. Because if there was ever an opportunity to spill your guts to Harry Styles, it was in a dark room where his grassy green eyes weren’t all over you, sucking every ounce of courage from your bones.

Her voice was in a whisper, and she finally looked at him, or rather in his direction. To the outlines of his face, of his nose and his cheekbones. Even though she couldn’t find the green, she knew he was there, waiting, listening.

“You haven’t been imagining anything.”

She couldn’t quite see it, but his eyebrows had hit the ceiling and before he could question her further, she continued.

“I was miserable when you were seeing Liv and so fucking happy when you broke up.” Her voice shook, but she didn’t let that stop her, “And then miserable again because you didn’t want me. And maybe you still don’t, but it would really bother me if you went home with someone else.”

The quiet almost ate her alive for the next few seconds when he said nothing and she didn’t have his features to go off of. But then, she felt him getting closer until, finally, his lips were at her ear.

“I’ve always wanted you.”  

The buzzing was back but this time it was debilitating. Especially when he faced her and cupped his free hand along her jaw. And especially when he tilted her head back slightly to meet his lips, which had pretty good aim given their predicament. She missed the way he felt, she realized, once he was kissing her. Once he had scooted closer and released his hand from her grip on his lap. Once he grabbed up the other side of her face and pulled her closer. And then her hand was left to fend for itself on his thigh, and she, almost unconsciously, drifted her touch closer and closer and closer…

He moaned softly into her mouth when she toyed with the flimsy piece of fabric tied around his waist with her fingertips. And finally, she pulled apart from him, catching her breath before whispering, “Do you think they’d notice if we left?”

He shook his head, “Don’t think I care if they did.”

And so they were off. Trying not to draw too much attention to themselves even though she slightly tripped over the leg of the chair and he tried not to giggle too loudly while helping her. His hand fell into hers again as he led the way out of the living room, down the hall and into Jason’s guest room, closing them both off from any light source completely, not that they really cared too much about seeing each other; they just wanted to feel each other again.

And as soon as Harry had closed the door behind her, that’s exactly what they did. As she wrapped her arms around his neck; as he felt his way around her waist, he kissed her like he hadn’t kissed anyone in years. Like he was a dry, cracking desert and she was a vast river flowing through him.

He took brave steps towards the bed blindly, backing her up further into the dark room and managing to not trip over anything when he finally made it to the bed. They’d both, on separate occasions, spent the night in Jason’s guest room before, which helped when maneuvering around in the dark. For instance, Harry knew that Jason kept his secret stash of condoms in the bedside drawer. Harry had no idea why, but he was thankful for it right now, when, after laying her back on the bed, Y/N had already begun undoing his costume—with such quickness, he was sure she’d studied how the thing was connected to his body so that she knew exactly how to get if off if need be—and, within the next few seconds, tossed the flimsy Tarzan loincloth out of sight.

Which left him in just the black thong he wore underneath. If it were up to him, he wouldn’t have even bothered with it. But, when he had first gotten the costume and tried it on without anything, he imagined all the wardrobe slips and potential boners might not be in everyone’s best interests. So, he went out and bought the smallest pair of underwear he’d ever owned, tucked himself inside of them, and called it a day.

Those, too, were stripped from his body in a matter of seconds, or at least pushed down his thighs to where they no longer covered what they were intended to cover. But then she flipped them around, so that Harry was on his back this time, splayed across the bed and she was finally ridding him of the thong all together and not wasting any time getting her hands on him and he wondered, with how quick she was to get to this point, if she had been thinking about this all night. And if she had, then he would definitely have to whip out the Tarzan costume more often.

He seemed to sink into the mattress once he felt her mouth close on him, his eyes fluttering shut and his mouth hanging open involuntarily when he hit the back of her throat. He had no idea how he’d gone so long without her, or why either. Why had he been so stupid? Why did he let her think he didn’t want her? Why did he deprive the both of them of this? Of the way she felt circling her tongue around the tip of his cock, the way he knew she was looking at him even though he could physically not open his eyes or come down off his cloud long enough to tell her how good she felt. How much he missed it. How much he was probably in love with her, even if that might have been crossing some sort of line.

“Forgot how big you were,” she whispered, giggling almost shamefully after wiping her mouth on the back of her hand and giving him a break to actually breathe properly again.

“Think we both know that’s a lie.” He was out of breath already and he was right, although she wouldn’t feed his ego no matter what he said. Although she remembered his cock perfectly fine, she wasn’t exactly used to it. And maybe she had momentarily forgotten what he had hidden under his costume. It’d been two years since they slept together, and the first time it happened they’d been drunk.

She didn’t say anything else, just tried to hide the blush on her face—even though he couldn’t’ see it anyway—by taking a mouthful of him again. She didn’t let him come, though, of course, and he didn’t expect her to either. She never had before. She always led him get right to the edge, to where he was panting and writhing and digging his fingers into her hair, on the verge of screaming her name into the dark, and then she’d stop. Pull him from the back of her throat and leave him a sopping, moaning mess.

He’d somewhat recovered when she crawled on top of him and and sat on either side of his hips with her hands planted on his chest. And now that their eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she could see the curve of his lips as he smiled up at her and even the sinister little twist of his mouth just before he grabbed hold of the hem of her dress and ripped it off over her head, letting it fall onto the bed next to him. He wished they had just a little bit more light, but at the same time, it turned him on having to see with his hands instead. Having to reach up and cup her breasts in his palms and rely on his memories for a better visual than the one he currently had. And as she came down to kiss him again, there was one thing for sure he didn’t need any light or anything but his fingers to do.

He tossed her bra into the same vicinity as her dress and within seconds had his hands all over her again, and his tongue as well, wishing she was on her back so he could worship her in all the ways he desperately wanted to, but also aware that the power could flick on at any moment and he really didn’t have the time.

Not that she had asked, and maybe she just hadn’t thought of it yet, but he still, while continuing to make out with her, reached over, pulled the drawer open on the nightstand and reached inside to locate the box of condoms.

However, once he did, and he didn’t find what he was looking for, he sat up and pulled apart from her, twisting himself a bit in order to see inside the drawer. His other hand held onto her hips so she didn’t fall off of him as he searched the drawer. But, soon enough, he was laying back again, groaning as if he was in physical pain.

“There’s no condoms.” He muttered between his teeth and just that one little sentence ruined his entire night.

“It’s okay.” She assured, continuing to whisper just as he did so that no one would hear them through the thin walls. “I mean… we’re clean right? And I’m on birth control…”

He ran his fingers through his hair, looking up at her and trying to decide if it was a good idea or not. She was right, of course, but even so there was always a possibility. Even with condoms there was always that same possibility too. He knew one thing for certain. If he remembered correctly. There was absolutely no way in hell he’d be able to pull out, so that really wouldn’t even be an option either.

“If you don’t want to though, that’s fine.” She spoke again amongst his silence. It’s not like he would hate the potential consequences, and of course he would not hate feeling her without a stitch of anything in between them, he just needed to be reassured that’s what she wanted, truly.

“I do, just um… are you sure you’re okay with that?”

She nodded first and then, confidently, “Yes.” As she fell back into place over him, her lips came to his ear this time, “I want to feel you coming inside of me.”

His whole body shuddered, needing her more than he quite possibly ever had. And as she tucked her panties to the side and guided herself onto him, he would most definitely go outside and cut the lines himself if the power decided to come back on before they were finished.

“Forgot how wet you are…” He whispered, heart fluttering at the way she laughed while fucking him. He never forgot either, not quite. But feeling her again now, pooling around him, warm and snug, he again wondered why in the living hell he kept himself from her for so long. Sure, they didn’t like each other most of the time, but their first time together had been hot, drunk hate sex and ever since then he’d chased that feeling with other people, none of them ever quite adding up to her. He wondered if she thought the same. No one ever making her feel the way he did either. If, when she was with someone else, she thought of him instead.

He knew he wouldn’t last long the second she put her greedy hands on him, and so her being in control now was slightly dangerous. He wasn’t ready for it to be over, even if he was racing the clock, even if he could just take her home from here and do it all over again, properly. He didn’t want it to end as quickly as it started.

So, he flipped them back over, getting her on her back like he’d wanted to earlier. Slipping a pillow under her backside to get a better angle and letting her sink all the way through the mattress this time. He remained inside her the entire time, only making quick, shallow movements to avoid the sounds of their skin slapping against each other. But he gave up being careful about their noise level after she begged him to go faster, after he reached between them and rubbed his fingers over her clit to catch her up with him.

She tugged at his hair while he kissed her, breathlessly and without much of a second thought this time about how loud they were being. He assumed all their friends knew about them anyway, even if she chose to be ignorant to it. They all speculated about the secret hookups and the mindless flirting that was disguised as harmless bickering. So, he just stopped caring the closer and closer he got.

That was until he buried himself as far as he could inside of her, his hand wrapped around her throat the way he remembered her liking, and he felt the scream building beneath her skin, beneath his palm. Quickly, before her noises led to everyone barreling into the room to find out what was going on, he clasped his hand from her throat to her mouth instead. Holding tightly as she let it out, his eyes pouring into hers like a lake of shining emerald waters getting her to stay there in the room with him. So that she didn’t close her eyes and float away like he had before.

He titled her head to the side, kissed up her jaw to her ear. “Mm, I missed the way you sound.” He wanted to tell her how he thought about her pleads and her moans and her yells late at night when he was feeling particularly alone. When he wanted nothing but her, to either be inside of her, or to just have her there next to him. But all of that got caught in his throat, and instead, as he continued burying himself into her, he whispered like a growl in her ear, “Missed how well you take me.”

And although it made her moan, made her eyes cross and her fingernails scrape across his shoulder blades, he wanted to tell her that he missed how they fit together. How where he ended she began so seamlessly no one else could hardly compare. There had always been a seam with everyone else, with Liv, a visible divide between him and them, soldered together haphazardly. But with Y/N, it was smooth, flowing together as if they were the same person.

His hand slipped from her mouth as he began losing control, and soon she was the one having to cover the noises. Though, this time, she just simply pulled his lips to her own and felt all the vibrations escape from his throat against her skin, her teeth, her tongue. She breathed in nothing but the air from his lungs, and held onto his tightly as she began to unravel.

His moans quickened and quickened until she felt his release, warm and deep inside of her, just as her own gave way, until his body began to give out, until he was panting and no longer able to hold himself up over her. And so once they both descended from their cloud, once their wave had crashed onto the shore, he planted himself beside her, their chests in rhythm as they cough their breath.

And before either of them even managed to open their eyes or breathe steadily again, the surge of the power coming back on dimmed the haze. Their room was still dark, but light seeped under the door and the rest of their friends cheered from the other room as the music began again. And for a brief, stupid moment, Harry thought about fucking her again and letting her scream all she wanted, but that fantasy was cut short when he remembered their friends would soon realize they were missing.

“We should get back.” She mumbled. Although she made no sudden movements to get up. She even closed her eyes again, still off in another world.

And so Harry risked it, just for a few more moments, anyway, where he rolled closer to her and slid his hand up her jaw softly, pulling her attention toward him again as her eyes fluttered open, waiting.

“I was miserable when I was with Liv too. And we broke up because she knew I spent all my time thinking about someone else.” He swiped his thumb across her cheek, realizing for the first time that he’d probably royally fucked up all her makeup and then hoping she wouldn’t come to her senses and kill him for it.

“And who might that be?”

He smiled, sweetly this time unlike all his asshole smiles, and just as he glanced at her lips, ready to kiss her again, he was cut short.

“Yo, where are Harry and Y/N?” It was Jason, loud and clear and possibly headed their way to investigate his missing party guests who had snuck off together in the dark. Jason didn’t know that yet though, and as much as Harry would like none of their friends to find out, it wouldn’t exactly look great the two of them waltzing out of the guest room together. Harry’s curls in shambles, fresh scratches all across his back, and Y/N’s makeup smudged. There was simply no use in hiding what they’d been up to, it was written all over them.

Harry grabbed her clothes and handed them off while he went on a search for his own tiny pieces of costume. And just as they got decent again, there was a knock on the door.

“You guys in there? You better not be doing what I think you’re doing.” Jason warned and Harry and Y/n looked at each other for a moment before busting out laughing.

Harry got to the door first, throwing it open to a very surprised Jason, who then narrowed his eyes when he saw Y/N come up behind Harry.

“God, not in my guest room!” He whined as Harry pushed pass Jason, a looking Y/N following shortly behind, “Now I have to clean the sheets again! I just did them yesterday.”

“Sorry, mate!” Harry called over his shoulder, glancing down at Y/N quickly to give her one of his cocky little winks. And once they had reached the main room again, as he fell back into his chair, she realized just how many scratch marks she’d left on him, and wished he’d worn a costume with a shirt to cover it up.

She drowned out all the whistling and the comments about how everyone knew she and Harry were up to something, about the bets won and lost. All she heard was Harry’s voice in her ear, telling her how much he missed her and she wondered if it was real. If he really did miss her, or he just missed fucking her. If, when it was no longer October 31st, they’d just go back to normal. Like the horse-drawn carriage turning back into a lumpy, ugly pumpkin.

Harry noticed this, of course, because he’s a law student and notices everything, but just as he leaned in to ask if she was okay, she pulled away.

“I just, uh, need some air.” And then she was gone before he could do or say anything. She used through the front door, abandoning their poor pumpkin and headed toward her car. She’d left the keys and her purse inside, but it didn’t matter. She just leaned against the passenger door and gazed up at the stars, thankful for the clear night and warm weather.  

And, of course, he was beside her not too long afterwards. She’d heard his footsteps against the pavement, knew he���d probably follow her out anyway.

He cleared his throat, half watching the same stars she was and half glancing at her. “Did I do something?”

“No, it’s um…” she faltered, her eyes falling to her feet. “Think I just had too much to drink.”

“Oh… I’m sorry. I—” she cut him off before he got too far in the wrong direction.

“No, I mean…” she pushed off her car then and faced him, “Are we just going to go back to how we always are after tonight? Because I don’t know if I can do that. But I never know what you’re thinking, Harry. Do you even like me or do you just like sleeping with me sometimes and arguing with me all the rest of the time?”

He continued to watch her for a moment, almost waiting for her to tell him she was kidding. But when she just ran a nervous hand through her colored hair, he realized she wasn’t.

He waited for a group of kids all dressed in various Star Wars outfits to pass by them before he began. “I guess I thought I was clear, but obviously not enough… I don’t just want to sleep with you every couple of years and pretend we don’t like each other in between. I think we’ve already wasted enough time, don’t you?”

She nodded once his words sunk in.

“Can we go finish our pumpkin now? And win the stupid skeleton. So I can take both it and you home with me?”

Again, she nodded, but this time it was matched with a smile. “Who says I want to go home with you?”

He rolled his eyes and threw an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close enough to kiss the top of her head as he steered them back toward the front door. “Guess it’ll just be me and the skeleton then.”

They both glanced over at the giant thing stuck in the middle of Jason’s front yard, still attracting every young person like it was a princess at Disneyland, and then she looked up at him again. “On second thought, I might like to see that.”

He shook his head, opening the front door for them, “M’sure you would.”

[tsukishumai]

Chemical Reaction - Kuroo Tetsuro

Summary: When the universe hands you a second chance, will you be able to move on from the mistakes of your past? 

college!Kuroo x fem!reader

a friends to friends w/ benefits to lovers type of deal.

Warnings: some light NSFW, slow burn, aged up characters, mentions of smoking, mentions of alcohol, fingering, cursing, and a little heartbreak. angst to fluff

Word Count: 7.3k (it goes by fast, I swear (′ꈍωꈍ‵))

A/N:  Jesus... this started out as a prompt, but it snowballed into whatever the hell this is. And it was supposed to be done by Kuroo’s bday T-T but better late than never! I poured in a lil extra love into this, pls give it a shot, lmk what you think, and I hope you enjoy !

Your history with Kuroo Tetsuro went back a little bit further than you’d like to admit.

He had been in your class for all three years you were at Nekoma, but you had really only popped onto each other’s radars second year.

He had been assigned the seat next to you, and while you were upset that your best friend, Eri, had been sat all the way across the room, you didn’t exactly mind the view.  

Right off the bat, you knew this was going to be trouble for you.

The guy was cute, funny, and smart. How hadn’t you noticed him before?

“Hey, L/N-chan,” he said, already making you blush with the addition of the honorific, “I have many chemistry jokes… but I’m afraid they won’t get a good reaction!”

You couldn’t stop either the face palm or the giggle that slipped out of your lips.

Kuroo was an easy person to get along with. He always greeted you in the mornings, and never really bothered you during class. On the rare occasion he stayed in the classroom for lunch, the two of you would strike up a conversation, but it never went past the surface.

Until about halfway through the school year. Your teacher had assigned a project that required a partner.

You looked to Eri, only to find the little traitor pairing up with the guy she had been eyeing since first year.

You sighed, not even mad at her for trying to shoot her shot.

“Want to be partners?” your head shot to the boy next to you.

“Uhm. Sure!”

And so it went like this; the project was due at the end of the year, requiring a research paper, and a 7 minute power point presentation.

Once or twice a week, the two of you would meet up at the school library either before school or after your club activities.

Kuroo was smart; smarter than you but you’d never say that to his face, so more often than not, the two of you would finish what needed to be done that day, and spent the rest of the time just talking, and getting to know each other.

By the third time the two of you had gotten kicked out by the librarian for laughing too much, Kuroo suggested meeting at his house on the weekends.

Surely that doesn’t mean what you think it means right???

It doesn’t, lmao. This guy was a good student, he made sure you guys finished your parts, because there was no way he was going to get anything less than an A.

Oh, you guys finished a little early today? Great! L/N-chan! Help me with my receives!

As the weeks pass by, there was a mutual progression in the relationship, neither of you seeing each other as project partners anymore, and falling into a comfortable friendship.

For Kuroo, that is. You, on the other hand, just became way too good at acting like you weren’t falling in love.

The school year is coming to a close, and you turn in your project.

Surprise, surprise! You guys got an A.

Seriously, the teacher said she was going to start using it as an example for the future students.

You couldn’t even be happy about your passing grade; you were too sad that your time with Kuroo was ending.

“Well, it was really fun being your partner this year,” you said, and Kuroo cocked an eyebrow at you.

“Why do you sound like someone’s dying,” he joked, “Anyway, Kenma said he bought a new game, but it’s multiplayer. What time are you coming this weekend?”

Bitch, ya heart nearly jumped out of your chest.

For a little while, you were content with things being like that. You had become good friends with not just Kuroo, but Kenma as well. You guys weren’t always together, but definitely made a point to make time for each other.

While you guys were usually busy during the week, club activities, homework and school taking up most of your time, Saturdays at Kuroo’s had become a thing well into your third year. As much as possible, you would try to attend his games, and he would try to bring you snacks when he knows you’re stuck studying.

You tried really hard not to read into the things he would do for you.

Surely, he’s also held Kenma’s bag while walking him home, right?

He’s memorized his whole team’s schedule; it’s nothing special if he also has yours memorized.

You know that he only brought you lunch today because he had to share half of his when you forgot yours.

All normal friend stuff, right! Right?!

“I met a cute girl the other day,” he said to you absentmindedly one morning before class.

Wait. Your chest shouldn’t feel so tight, should it? Your eyes are swimming, and your head is floating. Every breath feels like lead in your lungs, and you kinda wished the ground would swallow you whole.

“Oh, Really?” you tried to be nonchalant, and hoped he didn’t notice the shakiness in your voice.

He nodded. “Yeah… she’s kinda funny.”

But you were really funny, weren’t you? You were the one that made him laugh like a hyena, made him clutch his stomach and gasp for breath, right?

“Is that so?” your mouth felt like sandpaper, “Why don’t you try taking her out on a date?”

You wish you had never said those words.

You knew the girl he was talking about; you had seen Kuroo approach her in the hallway.

She was your teammate in the track and field club; not one of the fastest, but she was beautiful, kind, friendly, and Kuroo was right – she really was kind of funny.

“You should have told him first, you know,” Kenma had mumbled from next to you once, eyes never leaving his game while yours quickly shot him a glare.

It was just the two of you at the lunch table – Kuroo mumbling an excuse about having plans with another “friend”.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Kenma just rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

You spend the next few weeks avoiding him; it was easier since he didn’t sit next to you in class anymore, you weren’t really replying to his texts as often, you stopped visiting him and Kenma at practice, and you had missed the game you had told them you would try to go to.

You were kind of starting to realize that it was mostly you that had to go and seek them out.

Now that you weren’t doing these things… where was he?

You would catch a glimpse of Kuroo when he would visit your teammate during practice; he would try to greet you but you’d only shoot him a tight smile.

So when you heard a loud knock on your door at eight o clock in the evening, the last person you expected was the roosterhead himself.

“Hey,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I could tell something was bothering you, and I’ve been trying to give you your space, but… it’s been weeks now so, I just have to know… Are you avoiding me?”

You didn’t really know what to say, if there is even anything else to. Even with your head down and eyes trained to your feet, you could feel the burn of his gaze.

“I...” the deep timbre of his voice always managed to give you chills, “I miss you.”

Is he fucking serious right now? He’s so smart, yet he can’t put two and two together? He can see his opponents’ moves before they happen, yet he can’t even see you standing right in front of him?

“I have feelings for you, Kuroo,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Kuroo’s eyes widened by a fraction, his mouth slightly hung agape, dumbfounded by your seemingly random confession.

Except, it wasn’t random to you. You’ve been harboring these feelings for months, and after hurting yourself by staying silent for so long, you decided that you deserve better.

You’ll accept whatever the outcome, if that’s the price for your peace.

“Y/N…” it took him a long time to finally speak, and you try to ignore the fact that this is the first time he’s called you by your first name.

His face clearly showed his struggle to get the words out. “I’m sorry, I didn’t… I –“

You raised your hand. You didn’t really want to hear any more than that.

“It’s okay,” you said, giving him a small smile.

And with that, you shut the door on Kuroo Tetsuro.

You do your best to move on, smiling and laughing with friends you wouldn’t usually talk to you, ignoring the ghost of your past that haunt you every time you walked passed by Kuroo and your teammate down the hall.

You throw back a laugh at whatever the person next to you had said, turning away to miss the fact that Kuroo’s eyes always followed you wherever you went.

Graduation day came and in the blink of an eye, your days at Nekoma were behind you.

The days passed, the seasons changed, the flowers bloomed, and then they died.

You started university, moving to a different city and living with the very same best friend whose betrayal to quench her own thirst became the catalyst for your greatest heartbreak.

You’ve forgiven her for that though, you guess.

Life in college was the breath of fresh air that you needed.

New things to learn, new places to discover, and new faces to help you forget the scars of old ones.

Years pass by, and while you’ve allowed yourself to feel the touch of others, allow them to make you laugh, allow them to make you cry, you’ve never really allowed yourself the luxury of falling in love again.

Who has time for that any way?

Definitely not you. You just needed to finish your undergrad, and get into med school.

You had plans for your life, you weren’t going to compromise your dreams just for another person, and no matter whom you dated or how much they liked you, this fact had always rubbed them the wrong way.

You were finally starting your last year at your undergrad, quite possibly one of the most important years of college, what with your thesis, med school applications, and your entire future pretty much on the line, no big deal.

Your first class of the day was chemistry. You had been avoiding the last chemistry class required by your degree, all of your friends telling you that it was one of the hardest classes they’ve ever taken, and so naturally, you ran away for as long as possible.

The class wasn’t due to start for another fifteen minutes when you walked in, giving you a perfect opportunity to grab a seat of your liking.

You ended up choosing one in the third row – you knew that if you sat in the back, you wouldn’t pay attention.

You take out your laptop, books, and all required materials, using this free time to check any emails from your professors.

You were checking the time – 5 minutes left until class started – when you were interrupted.

“L/N-chan?”

Your feel your body stiffen up at the sound of a voice you hadn’t heard in years.

You turn your head to your left, hoping to all the gods that maybe you were mistaken.

“Kuroo?” you said in disbelief, and oh honey… you could not believe he was standing right before you.

Kuroo seemed like he hadn’t changed at all. His hair seemed a little bit more managed, he was a little bit taller, his muscles filled out his shirt better… but he still had the same goofy smile on his face, and that undeniably mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“What are you doing here?” you blurted out. “I thought you went to a university in Tokyo?”

“I did, but I transferred this year,” he said, “This university has a great marketing program.”

“I can’t believe it,” you mumble out, more so to yourself than him, “It’s been years.”

He gave you a smile. “It has.”

He took the seat next to you, much to your surprise. You almost wanted to open your mouth in protest, but what could you say? ‘You can’t sit there’?

You were thankful that the class had only gone over the syllabus, because you didn’t hear a word the professor said.

When you told Eri about it later, she just laughed.

“I always thought Kuroo-san was a nice guy,” she commented, her back turned while she cooked the both of you dinner.

“I never said he wasn’t,” you said, throwing back the rest of the wine in your glass.

“What, you still like him or something?” Eri teased, plating the noodles she had created and setting it in front of you.

“Of course not,” you grumbled, stabbing at the plate with a fork, and the amused look on Eri’s face tells you that her silence was just to placate you.

The next few weeks of the semester went by without any incident.

Kuroo stayed in the seat next to you, and you didn’t let yourself wonder why.

You were proud at yourself for being able to talk to Kuroo the way that you were; he still made the same stupid chemistry jokes in high school, but now you felt like you could laugh at them without choking on the air around you.

It was easy.

Until it wasn’t.

“Alright everyone,” your professor began one rainy morning, “We’re about halfway through the semester, and this is usually around the time I like to assign a little project.”

All of a sudden, you felt a strange feeling of déjà vu.

“Now, it’s only going to be worth about a third of your grade in the class, so I suggest not slacking off on this one. This is going to require a partner, and before you go texting your bestie that you want to ‘link up’, I’ve taken the liberty of assigning your partner for you.”

Oh, Christ. You were praying you wouldn’t get partnered up with a dead weight.

“When I call your name, raise your hand so I could introduce you to your new partner.”

You waited patiently for your name to be called, but Kuroo’s had been called first.

“Kuroo Testuro.”

Kuroo raised his hand.

“Your partner will be... let’s see here… ah, L/N F/N!”

No. No fucking way.

Your arm involuntarily raised, the professor nodding his head in acknowledgement.

You slowly turn to face Kuroo, who had an unreadable smile placed on his lips, your professor’s voice droning on in the background.

“Well,” he said, laughter laced in his words, “Isn’t this familiar?”

At first, you felt incredibly apprehensive at the thought of being partnered with your high school crush, but at the end of the day, you were actually incredibly thankful.

Kuroo was just as smart and diligent as he was back then, and you had every confidence that your project was going to get the highest grade.

You tried to make it a point to meet in public places – cafes, libraries, and the like.

But soon, Kuroo suggested that it would just be easier and more comfortable to meet at either your place or his.

He only ever came by when Eri was home too, which would have been fine if the smirk on her face didn’t make you so nervous.

You noticed that his roommate was always around when you came over as well. You learned his name was Bokuto, and though he was a little loud, his presence was actually a little comforting.

Honestly, it all felt so… nostalgic. Whenever you would finish your work for the day, then the two of you would spend the time talking, catching up, and laughing at stupid jokes, almost as if the two of you were friends again.

Almost like nothing happened between you at all.

“Hey,” you started one day, curiosity getting the better of you after a particularly steamy conversation about past relationships, sitting on the floor with your iPad on your lap and homework strewn about all over the living room floor, “Whatever happened between you and that girl from high school?”

Kuroo just gave you a sad smile, and you thought she must have broken his heart pretty badly.

“Oh that…” he waved it off, “That was a mistake. A big one.”

You figured it was better not to ask any more questions.

Eri walked out of her room soon after Kuroo left that night, her arms crossed and leaning against the door’s archway as she watched you wash the dishes.

You guys are getting pretty close,” she mused.

She couldn’t see you roll your eyes. “Well, yeah, we were pretty good friends in high school.”

Eri let out a humorless laugh. “I stand by my statement that Kuroo-san is a nice guy,” she said, walking up next to you to place a hand on your shoulder, “But I haven’t forgotten how long it took you to get over what happened.”

Your hands stilled in the soapy water for a second, but you chose not to say anything.

“I’m just saying,” Eri started to walk back to her room, calling out her last words behind her shoulder, “Be careful.”

Eri’s words echoed in your head whenever you were with Kuroo.

Every time he offered to pay for your food, you made sure to insist you’d pay for it yourself. If he tried to grab your bag from your shoulder when you walked, you’d hold on tighter and say you were fine.

You didn’t avoid him like you did before, but you made every attempt to keep him at arm’s length.

It seems your attempts were all for nothing, however, when the semester ended.

“Amazing job,” were the words that came from your professor when giving your passing grade.

“We did it,” Kuroo said happily, the two of you making your way out of the class, “It’s finally over.”

“Thank god,” you laughed back.

“Hey,” Kuroo started, though he was looking at everywhere but you, “Bokuto’s gone and visiting his boyfriend for the weekend, but I was wondering if you wanted to come over for drinks later?”

You blinked, trying to even your breathing.

“You know, to celebrate the end of the semester, and acing that nightmare class.”

You should say no, right? Wait, but you’re grown now. You’ve moved on from what happened back then. The two of you did work really hard this semester, what’s wrong with celebrating your achievements?

“I think we’ve earned it,” Kuroo laughed.

“Yeah,” you said, and you were glad for it just from the smile that spread on his stupid face, “We really have! I’ll be there.”

“See you at eight?”

You nodded at his words as he waved goodbye, going your separate ways.

Ten hours later, you were sitting next to Kuroo on his living room floor, sake cup full to the brim as BNHA plays on his TV.

“Ah, Deku’s in the hospital,” Kuroo slurred, sake sloshing out of his cup when he pointed to the screen, “That’s a shot!”

The two of you threw back the warm liquid, and you were kind of worried that it didn’t taste like anything anymore.

“Kuroo,” you laughed, “We’re only on the second episode… and I think I’ve taken, like, twelve shots at this point.”

“This was your idea!”

“Well, I have another idea,” you started to get up, causing Kuroo to get up as well, “Let’s order take out!”

He laughed at your red face, agreeing with you.

You started to make your way to the couch, but all of a sudden, you felt dizzy, a head rush taking over your senses as you stumbled over your feet.

Kuroo caught you before you could hit the floor.

“You okay?” he laughed, and the sound of it elicited a laugh from your own lips.

In a second, the two of you erupted in giggles, snickering at nothing in particular while his strong arms still held you in place.

Suddenly, you were hyperaware of his touch on your skin, and you let your eyes trail from the strong hands around your waist, to the golden honey eyes that were already staring at your face.

You can’t exactly remember how, but the next thing you knew, you were pinned under Kuroo on his bed, his soft lips moving in tandem with yours while his hot tongue took over your whole mouth.

Your arms were looped around his neck, and he slid his calloused hands up your arm.

You felt his hands grip onto your wrists before he pulled them off his necked and pinned them onto the mattress.

You took in a deep breath once he disconnected from your mouth, planting a trail of kisses along your jaw line and down to your neck, before you slid his tongue across your supple skin.

You shivered, acutely aware of the fact that he has you trapped.

“Be careful,” Eri’s words echoed in your mind.

Fuck, you tried to think but it was hard when Kuroo just threw his shirt across the room, hovering over you with chiseled abs and defined muscles.

The heat returned to your body when he lowered his head, and popped a hard nipple into his mouth.

Your body arched at the feel of his teeth grazing against your skin, goosebumps racing when he dipped his hand beneath your underwear, a slender finger gliding down your folds before inserting into you.

You weren’t prepared for the intrusion, and he captured the gasp that came out of your mouth with his lips.

He was now holding down both of your wrists with one hand, never realizing that he was that much bigger than you.

He slid out his finger, bringing it to his mouth to give a long lick, before dipping his hand back down, and pushing in two.

You threw your head back when Kuroo curled his fingers, wondering how the hell he was able to find your g spot so quickly.

You felt like an animal caught in his trap, caged in with your arms pinned down, no choice but to let Kuroo draw out your orgasm while he pumped and curled into you, circling his thumb over your swollen clit.

Your legs were shaking while you screamed out his name, embarrassed that you were cumming so hard when he hasn’t even actually fucked you

He didn’t give you a chance to recover from your orgasm

In one swift movement, Kuroo let go of your hands and pulled out his fingers so he could grab a leg in each hand to fold you over in a press.

You don’t even know when Kuroo had taken his pants – or yours – off, and you didn’t have time to wonder.

A moan escaped your lips at the feel of his length filling you up, and you distinctly hear Kuroo tell you to say his name.

“Kuroo,” you moaned, bringing your hands to his shoulders, grasping at his body.

Every buck of his hips shot a jolt of pleasure throughout your body, unable to escape the feeling with Kuroo holding you down in place.

Who the hell would want to escape from here anyway?

“My first name,” he growled, quickening his pace when he felt your walls tighten around his dick.

“Tetsuro!” you screamed without a second thought, the brutal rhythm Kuroo has set driving heat onto your stomach, repeating his name over and over even after you feel your pussy gushing all over him, your cum dripping down from his shaft to his balls.

“Fuck,” Kuroo growled out, driving into you one last time before he spilled hot white, trying hard to catch his breath while coming down from this high.

The two of you lay together in the darkness for a while, your head on his chest and his arms around his shoulder.

The silence that surrounded the room was comfortable; almost like a bubble of peace that neither of you wanted to pop by saying anything.

“Be careful,” Eri’s fucking voice told you, yet again

While you didn’t regret what had just happened between you and Kuroo, doubts were beginning to creep in your mind.

What the hell was supposed to happen now? You’re not sure if Kuroo was expecting this outcome when he invited you over for drinks, but it happened, and you’re not really sure where to go from here.

You’ve already built a life for yourself – one that was truly yours – and you had a path that you had every intention to follow.

Would Kuroo be like every other guy and run away when he finds out you’re not compromising your plans for him? Would you even want to try to fit him into your plans?

You shake your head.

Jesus, get a grip. A guy dicks you down /once/, and all of a sudden you’re thinking about this shit?

“Y/N? You okay?” He asked from beside you.

You lift your head from his chest, sitting up so you could lean your back against his headboard. Kuroo was quick to mirror your actions.

“Kuroo,” you begin to tell him, and he frowned a little at the sound of his last name, “That was… amazing.”

Kuroo blushed a little at your compliment, though he knew it didn’t stop there. “…But?”

“But,” you bit your lip, “I’m not really looking for anything serious right now.”

Kuroo didn’t respond right away, but maybe that’s because you just kept babbling. “It’s just… I have so much going on with school, not to mention grad school applications are due in a few months, and who knows which university I’ll end up going to after graduation…”

You finally had the courage to look at him, and you caught a glimpse of what you would have thought was sadness in his eyes if it hadn’t been blinked away so quickly, soon replaced with that same unreadable smile.

“Whatever you want, Kitten,” he replied, “This doesn’t have to be anything more than what it is.”

You let out a breath of relief.

He walked you home that night (or morning, considering it was 1am), still trying your best to set boundaries even though you pretty much let him thoroughly wreck you.

He didn’t give you a kiss goodbye, instead sheepishly waving when he sees you entering the door to your apartment, saying he’ll shoot you a text tomorrow.

You thought things would be weird between the two of you after that night, but you were happy to find that it wasn’t.

You had managed to rekindle your friendship with Kuroo – meeting up to study, grabbing lunch if you had the time, maybe catching the occasional movie.

Though, you didn’t tell Eri about the added benefits.

(Kuroo Tetsu-hoe) Today: 12:37AM

You up?

[To: Kuroo Tetsu-hoe] Today: 12:49AM

Yeah, doing my Lit. paper.

(Kuroo Tetsu-hoe) Today: 12:50AM

Wanna do me instead?

[To: Kuroo Tetsu-hoe] Today: 12:58AM

Say less.

ou didn’t have to tell Eri about the added benefits – she wasn’t dumb, where else would her roommate be going in the middle of night?

You’ve had other men before, going through your fair share of sexual experiences before climbing into bed with Kuroo.

But he was still managing to show you new things, reaching spots you never even knew existed before, putting his mouth in places that made your eyes water and lungs burn from gasping for air.

You can’t explain the feeling you get when he’s running his hands across your body, and when he stares at you and nothing but you while he’s pumping into you and making you feel so full in more ways than one, it’s something akin to a chemical reaction.

There was one time, when he took a belt, secured it against his head post before he brought your legs up to –

“Earth to Y/N,” Kuroo said, waving a hand in front of your face.

“Sorry,” you said, shrugging your shoulders, “I was having a flashback.”

Kuroo smirked, knowing exactly what you meant.  

The two of you were lying in bed, your back against his chest and a strong arm wrapped around your waist.

You laid your hand on top of his, fiddling with his fingers and reveling in the calm that always came from being with Kuroo.

“What you thinking about?” You ask, and the way he stiffened up in your grip let you know that something really was bothering him.

It took him a little longer than you’d like before he replied.

“Do you ever feel like… you want more?”

This time, it was you that stilled in his arms.

“Be Careful.”

You turned around to face Kuroo.

“I thought we talked about this?”

Kuroo’s eyes searched your face, for what, you have no idea. But you stared back with just as much intensity, hoping that he would find the answer he was looking for.

Fear. That’s what was written all over your face.

Kuroo let out a humorless laugh. “Forget I said anything.”

He stood up to put his boxers on and slipping on a shirt before heading out onto the balcony that was attached to his room.

You gave him a few moments before getting up to gather your clothes from the floor, silently putting them on before you joined him outside.

You find him leaning against the balcony railing on his forearms, a cigarette lit in one hand.

He doesn’t turn his head towards you, but he does offer his cigarette, and you take it quietly.

You bring the white filter to your lips, taking a deep drag, closing your eyes when you feel your head get lighter, and releasing the smoke from your lungs.

“Kuroo,” you started, voice nothing but a soft whisper, “I’m sorry… I didn’t – “

He raised a hand to stop you.

“It’s fine,” he replied. “Like I said, forget I mentioned anything.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Hey,” he said, taking his cigarette back from you and taking a drag himself, “Kenma’s having a party this weekend. They’re inviting over some old classmates from Nekoma. He says he misses you. You should come.”

Your ears perk up at the invitation, excited at the thought of seeing your old friend and a little happy that he’s moving past the subject.

"Kenma? Is having a party?”

Kuroo laughed. “Alright. Yaku is having a party, but we’re doing it at Kenma’s place. It’s actually not that far from here, just one train ride.”

You chuckled, shaking your head knowingly.

“Yeah, I’ll go,” you agreed, “But, uhm… I’ll just meet you there?”

Kuroo nodded. “Yeah. I’ll just meet you there.”

You didn’t see Kuroo the rest of that week.

You weren’t sure what it was – he wasn’t ignoring you, he replied to your text messages and answered your calls.

But he hadn’t once asked you to come over. And after what happened that night, you were scared to ask him to come over.

The night of Kenma’s party came, and you entered to find way more people than you had expected. You didn’t recognize more than half of the people there, but relief washed over you when Yaku threw an arm around your shoulder.

You didn’t see Kuroo right away when you arrived, but you were too distracted at the joy from seeing some of your old classmates.

You were half way through a game of beer pong with Lev as your partner before Kuroo was able to make an appearance.

He made his rounds, saying his greetings to everyone before stopping at you, giving you a friendly one armed hug.

You didn’t want to admit that you were a bit sad at the generic greeting.

Was it because maybe… you want…. mor –

“Y/N! Shoot the damn ping pong ball,” Lev exclaimed, and you were shook out of your reverie. 

Kuroo excused himself, saying he was going to the kitchen to make himself a drink, but you were too focused on winning your game to notice.

Before you knew it, you lost three to two against Kenma and Yamamoto, cursing at Lev for forcing you to carry the team on your back.

By this point, the alcohol had spread all through your system. You were still able to walk straight, but with considerable effort. The words that came out of your mouth were just a little slurred, and you were kind of having a hard time controlling the volume of your voice.

“Where’s Kuroo?” you asked Yaku, who instantly shot a hand up to rub his ear.

“Jesus, woman, you don’t have to yell, I am /right here,” he grumbled, but he still let you sling an arm around his shoulders for support. “I thought he went into the kitchen to get some drinks?”

That’s right, he said that. But that was hours ago. Where could he be?

You stagger away from Yaku, pushing your way past unfamiliar bodies to get to the kitchen.

The first thing you saw when you tripped into the kitchen was Kuroo, dressed in a fitted black shirt and blue jeans, looking every bit the Greek God he was as he leaned against the counter. His arms were crossed atop his broad chest, a drink in one hand.

He was talking to someone, and you thought you recognized the long black hair that flowed from the back of their head, but were too distracted studying the veins that protruded from Kuroo’s forearms.

You opened your mouth to call out to him when the person in front of him stepped up, pressing their body into his. She uncrossed his arms and snaked two long arms around his neck.

You recognized her in that instant.

It was his ex from high school.

Looking down, you were surprised to see your clothes dry, because it felt like someone poured a bucket of ice water directly on top of your head.

“Be careful,” Eri’s words echoed in your head for the ten millionth time.

Yet here you were

In the same exact place you were a little over three years ago.

You scoffed at yourself.

Well, there’s nothing else for you here now, is there?

You shoot Yaku and Kenma a quick text in a group chat to let them know you were leaving.

The air outside was cold, your breath coming out in puffs. You wrapped your jacket around a little tighter, cursing yourself silently for not wearing a scarf cause it’ll ‘ruin the outfit.’

“Hey, the party’s that way.”

The sudden voice behind you nearly made you jump ten feet in the air.

“Jesus, you really are like a fucking cat.”

Kuroo chuckled.

For some reason, the sound made you angry. You kept walking, following the path of dimmed street lights that led you to the train station.

“Yeah, but home’s this way.”

His heavy footsteps trailed behind you.

“Great, I was getting tired of the party anyway.”

“What are you doing here?” You finally turned your head to him and asked.

Your voice was surprisingly clear and even, despite the unsteadiness of the ground beneath you.

“What do you mean? I’m walking you home.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s late, and you’re my friend.”

‘Friend’. The word made you wince, even though you were the one that drilled the idea into his head.

“I saw you talking to your ex,” you grumbled, crossing your arms and turning the other direction.

You could practically feel his smirk.

“Oya? Is that jealousy I’m hearing in those words?”

You felt your face get hot.

“Of course not!”

- “I thought we were just friends?”

“Will you shut up for once in your life, idiot!”

He wanted to tease you some more, but was stopped by the pensive look on your face.

“Why would you leave the girl that broke your heart behind just to walk me home?”

Kuroo looked at you with a confused expression.

“Girl that broke my heart?”

You nodded. “When I asked you about her, you said she was a big mistake.”

Kuroo stopped walking. You turned your head back to look at him curiously when he doubled over in a full bellied laugh.

“Are you laughing at me?!” You asked incredulously, giving him a glare from where you stood.

“You... you think she’s the one that broke my heart?”

Kuroo wiped a fake tear from his eye.

“Wow. That was a good one.”

“What the hell are you going on about, Kuroo?”

The jovial look on Kuroo’s face slowly faded, the entertained smile on his face shrinking his lips into a thin line.

“Y/N, she didn’t break my heart.”

Now it was your turn to be confused.

“You want to know why I said she was a big mistake?” Kuroo took a step towards you, “It was because of her that I lost you.”

Your jaw dropped.

Kuroo ran his fingers through his hair, ruining the perfectly waxed locks that he had spent thirty minutes styling.

“Please don’t run away when I tell you this.”

You couldn’t move your feet even if you wanted to.

“The only reason I ever brought her up to you in the first place was because I wanted to see your reaction. I wanted to know if you would get jealous. But without hesitation, you told me that I should just go ahead and date her, and you know dumb young men and their pride... then... it just... snowballed into something I didn’t even...”

Kuroo couldn’t finish his sentence.

Your vision begins to shake.

“But... but I confessed to you!”

“Yeah, then you slammed the door in my face and stopped talking to me!”

You couldn’t deny that.

“Do you have any idea how confusing that was for a teenage boy? I had no idea what the hell was going on, one day, I blinked and I was stuck with a girl I didn’t love while I watched my best friend smile and laugh and walk passed me like I never even existed.”

You swallowed the guilty lump that was caught in your throat.

“All I knew was that you weren’t around anymore; you weren’t there to make me laugh with your dumb jokes, you weren’t coming over and leaving your presence all over my room, nothing, it was all gone, and it all felt so fucked up. Being without you felt so fucked up.” 

Had Kuroo always felt this way? Were you really so busy running away from him that you couldn’t even see that he was hurting too?

“Now the universe or the gods or whatever brought me back to you, and it’s like everything makes sense again, and fuck, all I want to do is just show you how much I’ve missed you, how much I care, how much I love you.”

You gasped, and you were waiting for Kuroo to try and take those words back, but the resolve was painted in his eyes.

“But all you do is just keep me at arms length. You wanted to be just friends when I wanted everything.”

You choked back a sob, tears were now steadily streaming down your face.

Kuroo closed the space between you, wrapping one arm around your waist while bring his other head to wipe at your tears with the pad of his thumb.

 “She wasn’t the girl that broke my heart. You were.”

He moved to place his fingers on your chin, tilting your head up to force you to look at his eyes.

He wanted you to see that he meant every single word.

“If this is all you’re willing to give me, I’ll take it. I’ll break my own heart. Every day, over and over again, if that’s what it takes to be with you.”

His voice was in a whisper now, bringing his lips to kiss both sides of your cheeks.

“Because I love you.”

He brought his hands to cup for your face before pulling you in for a kiss.

This wasn’t anything like you’ve ever experienced before.

Every time his tongue brushed against yours, you felt all the love adoration he was trying to convey in this one physical act, hoping he could transfer it all into your lips.

It felt like time stopped just for the two of you, to have this moment in the middle of the sidewalk, bathed in the orange glow of the street light that hung above you.

He pulled away finally, resting his forehead on yours for just a second before he engulfed you with his arms.

His head rested on top of yours, feeling the vibrations as he spoke.

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” he said nervously. “Do you want something more?”

You wiggle out of his grip just so you can move your hands up to caress his cheek.

“Tetsuro... I love you so much.”

Later that night, in the safety of your room and away from Eri’s judgmental eyes at the two of you stumbling in and giggling through the door, you trace small circles on Kuroo’s chest with your fingers while Kuroo had an arm wrapped around you tightly.

“Hey, Tetsu,” you broke the silence with a whisper, “What if I end up going to grad school that was... further away?”

Kuroo couldn’t help but smile and shake his head. You were never going to change.

Not like he would ever want you to.

“Y/N... we didn’t talk for three years, and not once did I stop thinking about you. A little distance isn’t going to get rid of me.”

You try to bury your face in embarrassment.

If he had to spend every day of the rest of his life reassuring you that he’ll be by your side no matter what, well - that’s just too easy.

You find yourself holding onto him a little bit tighter, making a silent vow that never again were you going to push away Kuroo Tetsuro.

[eleanorbloom]

Moonlight: Part One.

Disclaimer: Open Heart and most of the characters are owned by Pixelberry. Matilde is a creation of mine.

Book/Pairing: Open Heart / Bryce Lahela x F! MC (Matilde Luna)

Word Count: 1.9k Warnings/Rating: Few curse words/Teen.

Author's Note: I must confess I'm scared AF of sharing this with you. First POV is a challenge. Matilde has a whole different personality compared to Eleanor. And with her I'll share some of my deepest struggles and insecurities. That's why it took me so many months to finally realease this story to the world. Anyway, hope you enjoy it ❤

Taglist: @dalishessence @curiousconch @chocopeppermintcake @utterlyinevitable @secretaryunpaid @kachrisberry @romereadingshop @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Let me know if you wanna be added to my taglist!

______

Part One. Encounter with the Sun.

When you spend so much time in the darkness, it's inevitable to feel blinded by the light.

It’s dazzling.

You don’t see anything at first, your eyes hurt. They burn.

Then, when you’re able to detect the things around you, you feel good, even amazed by the new perspective, the colors, the depths, the lengths, the shining. The new world before you.

After a while, however, you feel overwhelmed by it. By the spotlight that gives you. How observed and judged you feel and how out of place you realize you are.

So you miss your old friend, the darkness. The intimacy of it. How it covers your flaws, your fears, your insecurities, your lackings. Your secrets. The secrets you don’t even know you’re keeping.

When you're invisible it's just you and your deepest thoughts and desires. No exposition, no need to cover your flaws, or make an effort to fit in.

You're safe from the constant awkwardness for feeling different.

That’s what happened to me when I met Bryce Lahela. His light dazzled me. It made me see the world bright, as I'd never seen it before.

But soon I realized it wasn’t for me. I belong to the darkness, and there’s not so much a person from the darkness can do with a person with so much light like him.

Or that's what I thought.

It was my first day of Residency when I met him, walking hurriedly to the locker room, covered in blood and lost in my thoughts. Orientation with the new interns was about to start in five minutes, so I couldn’t show up with my scrubs stained with blood from the Thoracotomy I just had done.

I was so deep in my thoughts and worries that I didn’t realize there was someone around the corner of the lockers until I bumped directly into him, my face almost burying on his toned, bare chest if it wasn’t because he had quicker reflexes than me.

“Woah there,” he said, surprised, and then his firm hands grabbed me by the arms.

“Sh…” I stopped instantly, reminding myself I was in my workplace, so I couldn’t be cursing as I pleased, much less in front of a person I hadn't met before.

“Damn, I’m…” I tried to say instead, but as I looked up, my words choked in my throat.

Damn indeed.

A pair of brown eyes looked at me curiously but warmly. But damn, damn, damn. He was handsome, so handsome it seemed like a hallucination.

Fuck, people can be this handsome in real life? I thought, as I was taking in the sight of him: dashing broad smile, eyes wrinkling in a playful grin. And all that was complemented with toned, perfect abs, illegal triceps, and divine hair. I could swear my hair never looked that gorgeous.

But the way he looked at me, even casually, was disarming. Just one look and he had me all inspected. And for some reason, I couldn't stop staring at him. There was something hypnotizing about him. Inevitable.

“Are you okay?” he asked a few moments later, as he noticed my speechlessness.

I blushed instantly. Oh my god, how much I stared at him like an idiot?

“Or are you already getting all the fun without even starting your shift yet?”

I sighed, thanking internally that he was talking about the blood on my scrubs and not about my embarrassing loss for words because of his appearance.

“I’m sorry, yes,” I said, shaking my head as I kept walking toward my locker, my cheeks flushing in a beet red in a matter of seconds, “Just a thoracotomy in the waiting room, that’s all.”

He chuckled as I was opening my locker to put my things inside, ignoring the anxiety washing over me slowly.

“Way to start the year, are you new too?”

“Y… Yeah,” I stuttered, begging internally he wasn’t looking directly at me at that moment. I didn't dare to check if it was the case.

By this point, I was used to changing clothes in front of lots of strange people, but it was always difficult doing it for the first time in a new place, so I tried to overcome my self-consciousness and simply tugged my stained scrubs out, ignoring the fact that he could see my curvy body in my simple black underwear.

After a lot of effort, I was a couple of years past feeling embarrassed by my body. I had finally accepted it the way it was -way off commercial beauty standards: chubby, fluffy, full of stretch marks and cellulitis-, but coming to terms with the fact that other people wouldn't think the same is completely different. There are always looks and awkward smiles, sometimes opinions. So this time I couldn’t help but feel a little shy about it, much more considering how handsome and sporty he was. It made me feel judged even if he wasn’t even judging me at all.

“Internal medicine?” he asked once I was with my fresh scrubs on. I turned around and found him with green scrubs instead, leaning against the lockers with a relaxed smile. There wasn't anything uncomfortable about his features.

“Yup,” I said sharply, giving him a quick glance before sitting down to lace up my black Chuck Taylors.

But then I felt the strange need to say something more.

I don't know why.

Any other day I would've replied and then acted like that conversation never happened. I hate small talk. But there was something that persuaded me to ask him something in return. Maybe it was the fact that I wasn’t expecting he would keep talking to me. Maybe I just wanted to repay the kindness. He could've just ignored me but he didn't.

“You?”

“Surgery,” he said grinning, fixing his hair with enviable naturality.

Oh, of course. Of course the living embodiment of Adonis would be a surgical bro. I should've known.

I couldn't help but chuckle as I shook my head.

“What?” He asked, with a puzzled look.

“Nothing,” I assured, still smirking while I was closing my bag before putting it back inside my locker.

“If you say so,” he shrugged before standing straight and checking his watch, “Are you ready? We can go to the Atrium together if you want. Considering we’re going to the same place.”

I froze in place for a moment.

I never expected something like that.

First, to interact with someone in my first hour at the hospital. Socializing wasn’t my forte so this felt like I was doing my first friend at playschool, even if this would bethe first and last time I'd talk to him in my life.

Second, to keep interacting with him after the usual pleasantries. He could’ve just greeted me and then done as nothing happened. Like I would’ve done it if it wasn't because my brain was pushing me to talk to him.

Third, that he would want to keep interacting with me despite how weird I acted and that I somewhat laughed at his face a few seconds ago.

“Y-Yeah, sure,” I said trying to conceal the slight shaking in my voice, and followed him outside the room.

“I’m Bryce Lahela, by the way,” he added, extending his hand to me as we started walking towards the exit.

“Matilde Luna,” I said in response, shaking his hand. His caramel skin felt smooth and warm on my palm.

“Nice to meet you, Matilde Luna. You have a really beautiful name.”

“Your name is pretty nice too,” I said without thinking too much of it, in my effort to hold the conversation even if I didn’t know what else to say.

When I turned to look at him, I could swear the ghost of a sad smile was concealed behind his -seemingly- signature smirk.

I frowned, wondering why that was. It was just a compliment to his name, how could I be wrong about something so simple as that?

But a moment later, that sadness was gone. As if it never happened, he grinned at me again.

“Do you have any friends or acquaintances from Med School here?” he broke the silence again, as we were reaching the stairs.

“I… I actually don’t know much,” I confessed, looking directly on the staircases before me. I couldn't care less about my classmates, honestly, but at that moment I felt bad for not knowing. Maybe guilty for my indifference. “I think a guy is in Peds and another girl is in Neuro?”

“Where are you from?”

“U-Dub. Washington.”

“Ah, cold and rainy. You won’t suffer too much with the climate here then.”

“Yup, I like it rainy.”

“You’re nuts!” He exclaimed, with an overacted shocked expression.

“Oh, let me guess why the gratuitous insult, you're from California, right?”

Bryce turned to me, perplexed, “Guilty as charged, what gave me away?”

“Mmm besides your tan and your surfer highlights?”

“Ouch, talk about gratuitous insults!”

“Just payback, ” I laughed heartily, “No, actually it’s your accent. I did my undergrad in Berkeley.”

“Oh,” he chuckled, “Makes sense.”

“Which part of Cali?”

“Stanford.”

Surgical bro from Stanford. La crème de la crème. Why was he even talking to me?

Just he replied, we entered the Atrium and found interns of all sorts of specialties gathered around place, waiting for the Chief to make her appearance.

My stomach churned at the huge amount of people before me. All these new people I'd have to meet and work with. To deal with.

But it didn't matter. If this was the price I had to pay to do what I love, to make her proud, so be it.

I took a deep breath, psyching myself to what was about to come, “This is for you, mama.”

And just the thought of her seemed to soothe whatever anxiety I was feeling at that moment.

“Well, Matilde Luna,” Bryce announced, after both observed the crowd in silence for a couple of seconds, “Time to meet my competition now. Good luck with yours.”

I looked up at him instantly, surprised by the slight tremor concealed in his voice. But there was nothing there. Bryce was already grinning at me, his caramel skin glistening against the morning sunlight. Melting as if they were just the same thing. But I could tell his smile wasn't reaching his eyes as before.

“Thank you, you too, ” I said as I watched him striding toward a group in green scrubs, each step taken with resolve.

But after a few feet, he stopped and slowly turned in my direction, a twinkle of honey piercing directly at me, “See ya later? ” he quizzed.

I arched an eyebrow at his question.

See ya later.

And made an effort not to snort.

With the sea of interesting people in this hospital, you won’t even remember my face by the end of the day, so don’t bother.

But I played along, it was the least he deserved for being so friendly with me that morning.

“See ya later,” I promised, convinced it was in vain. This would be the last time I would exchange words with him.

At that moment, though, I couldn’t even imagine how wrong I would be.

----

Thank you so much for reading!!!

[mariacallous]

Dear ms callous, one of my mutuals-in-law is supremely annoying in so so so many ways but is also a very bright person with an incredibly narrow scope of absolutely correct, insightful takes. The problem is that the things this mutual annoys me with are very un-self aware and status-oriented like making casual and maybe even unintentional assumptions and remarks about people based on what school they went to (or where MIL believes they went to) and how much they earn (or how much MIL believes they earn/should earn). I mean obviously the right answer is to block and move on with my life but i also want to reach out and legitimately ask this person if they understand how disrespectful those assumptions are. They're always posting about compassion but i sense a deeply stung, wounded ego around this stuff (bc this person clearly didn't go to harvard or yale or princeton themselves, but also clearly wasn't making a FB developer's salary either). We all have blind spots but it does kind of hurt as someone who didn't go near the Ivy's for a variety of reasons but did somehow manage to make something of myself despite what family/society/this mutual think. Appreciate any thoughts on this!

I think that part of the issue might be, if you were to reach out and (calmly and respectfully) ask if they realize what they're saying and how it comes across, if they are as self-absorbed and unaware as you indicate, whether they would understand and realize and respond to you or whether they would double-down and continue, and whether it would be worth your time and energy to engage and then maybe/possibly/likely be frustrated and back where you started.

Also, as this went on longer than I expected, I'll do a read more (also because I got very personal about myself).

I get it though - my parents are pretty solidly middle-class (although it's a declining thing, as things got and have gotten worse or fallen into a stasis starting in my teen years) and couldn't afford a lot of things and so I knew I'd be mostly on my own and having to figure stuff out, and also weirdly reliant on them for other things. So while a lot of my friends were getting into UCs and privates (my best friend got into George Washington University, before coming back to UC Berkeley after going to Berkeley City College for a bit, and others got into Stanford and Georgetown), and even while I was getting accepted to Roosevelt in Chicago and the University of Canberra, I had to go to the community college near where we lived, and then I ended up, because of costs and requirements, going to state schools in the Midwest, and I've had to stop and start at college multiple times, and those same friends are now working at various tech and consulting groups making the FB developer salaries and owning homes or nice apartments and condos in San Francisco or Los Angeles and getting married and having kids (and having spouses with similar strategies) and I'm...not, lol, and I don't have mommy and daddy (or grandparents) with their several years at various law firms and corporations and home equity and savings and trusts to help me or give me connections.

So I have fairly large chips on my shoulder, because a lot of "normal" or average experiences or options (for my parents, even, when they were younger)...weren't the case for me and for the people I've worked with and dealt with over the last decade plus, and I've had to decide what to sacrifice or skimp to get other things (when I graduated from my undergrad, I had nowhere to go and almost no furniture and minimal belongings that I brought with me to college and ended up being the third roommate in a 2-bedroom apartment and living off a stipend I got from a nonprofit I worked with of about $500 a month, until I finally got hired by the public health department in Fargo, and then one of the roommates moved out to take a live-in job so I finally got my own room), and what to do without or stretch, and I constantly feel insecure and shabby. Especially because my parents and my sisters were more of the country mice with our city mice uncles and aunts, who were particularly clueless and thoughtless (and who accused my parents of stealing or withholding things and who held finances over them), and we didn't get a ton of new stuff and our home had to end up going to the home flippers because we couldn't afford the mortgage and the maintenance and it got black mold (and which I helped my parents figure out and coordinate from North Dakota, and which meant all of the stuff I left behind at home got trashed and ruined).

All of which is way more than I meant to say or bring up and which is tangential to my point, which is that I've worked and struggled (and still doing both) to get to where I'm at now, which is Better but not Great (the last year or two is the first time I've made more than $50,000/year since I started working) and it is incredibly hurtful to, hopefully and likely, see that devalued or denigrated by someone, who it sounds like is more secure financially and socially, and also because of how divorced it is from the reality of so many people, and probably so many people we both know and deal with. (It's why I've complained/ranted about the way people talk about the Midwest or "flyover country" or rural areas, having lived there and dealt directly with the people and issues involved)

And I think it's also just fundamentally tacky and crude and betrays a lack of thought and class and discretion (and having grown up in the San Francisco Bay Area, I'm used to seeing that) and doesn't recognize or acknowledge the people who have worked and struggled and who didn't go to Ivies or who didn't have well-off family or connections or who didn't grow up in the nice(r) parts of the Coasts and so forth.

This is way longer than I intended, and I don't want to further show how bitter *I* am or how wounded and stung my pride is, but all of this is to say that I Get It, and to make sure that you do what's best for you to be able to enjoy things, and to also recognize all the work you've put in and how far you've come and what your successes and achievements are.

[ziamhaze]

My Future in Fic

Yeah, so, the 100k fic that I’ve been working on for the past six months?  The one that was going to be uploaded to AO3 last week?  Yeah, it’s accidentally getting published...

Where do I start?

I suppose with a massive thank you to anyone who’s clicked on any of my fics over these past two years.  I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again.  I never ever thought about writing as a career.  I’ve never written anything prior to my Harry Potter AU Compartment 451.  I didn’t even take an English class in undergrad or grad school.  I genuinely just had an idea for a fic I wanted to read and since no one had written it, I had to do so myself.  Since then, I’ve written every single day for 2 years.  I left my job in the entertainment industry, got accepted to one of the best creative writing programs in the world on a scholarship, and now one of my stories is being considered at Harper Collins.  Yes, the Harper Collins.  It’s the longest shot in the world, but for legal reasons I was not allowed to upload the fic version on any website prior to submission.  Even if they don’t pick it up, I’ve been advised to continue to shop it around to agents.

What I can do, however, is share the premise.

If you’ve been following my tumblr and watching my tags - I SEE YOU ALL OUT THERE - then you’ll know that this fic was meant to have Zayn with his signature undercut hairstyle and one more little thing...

Someone sent me an ask a while back about what this fic was supposed to be about.  I believe I said something about it being an adaptation fic, but not from a film/tv show/other piece of literature, from a song.  This next fic was meant to be an adaptation of the song Younger by Ruel.  Later on, it also took shape with the help of Remember by Liam and a few others that you can find here.

The miniature summary is as follows:

When his father suddenly passes, twenty-nine-year-old Liam Payne is brought back to the Sydney suburbs where he grew up.  He doesn’t plan on seeing his childhood best friend, Zayn Malik, at the burial service.  They haven’t spoken since going from brothers to strangers one fateful day fifteen years prior.  But Zayn puts an end to this when he approaches Liam after the burial, offering his condolences and asking if Liam can help his archaeological research team with photographing their newest project.  The unexpected closeness forces each man to wade through uneasy emotions.  For Liam, a mixture of grief, lost identity, and confusion over why he’s willing to interact with the one person he swore he’d never forgive.  And for Zayn, a tidal wave of anxiety that comes from finally facing a part of himself he’s always chosen to deny.  When We Were Younger is a story heavily rooted in blurred identities and exploring what loss can look like in two different scenarios: death and friendship.

For obvious reasons, their names will be changed.  Liam, to Hutton.  Zayn, to Cairo (his ethnicity will also be changed to Egyptian).  As you can see, it was meant to be my big ‘enemies to lovers’ fic.  Technically, it’s ‘best friends to enemies to lovers’, but you know.

Right, so what does this mean for me going forward?

I still have so much inspiration when it comes to writing Zayn and Liam as characters.  I don’t plan on putting a complete stop to writing them, but with my career taking this large of a turn, I do have to prioritise my time.  That said, as of now, I can’t afford to write long-form fic any longer.

Soon, I’ll be starting a PhD program where I’ll be writing another full-length novel for mass publication.  For fun, here’s a little insight on the two ideas that I’ll be pitching:

1.  Underground boxer (loosely based off Liam) falls in love with arms gang leader (loosely based off Zayn).  Throughout their love story, the latter has to outrun the psychological trauma his father (the leader of Zayn’s rival gang) still throws his way. 

2.  Cold War AU.  Paris, circa 1950/51.  Ambassador’s son (loosely based off Liam) befriends new student (loosely based off Zayn) at the international school.  Paris is a ticking time bomb; war is about to break out at literally any second.  The two clearly have feelings for each other, but can’t act on them because homosexuality in the 1950s...yikes.  When war does break out, the two are separated, and as Liam’s character goes out to find Zayn’s, he learns a secret of his that changes everything.

Whichever I don’t write for the PhD will be the novel I write following it.

In the meantime, I’m going to continue to write (and edit) like crazy.  Ever since I randomly wrote C451, there hasn't been a day that’s gone by where I haven't written something.  It may have only been a paragraph or two, but never zero.  This is how you get better.  This is the equivalent of going out and shooting free throws for 30 minutes a day.  You have to put in the work in order to get better.  I'm very lucky that I'm incredibly self-disciplined and I've been able to crank out as many stories as I have over the past 2 years.

That said, I’ll be writing shorter little oneshots.  I have several ideas that I’ve been sitting on, but haven’t ever thought to write because I HATE writing short stories.  Little ideas that don't have huge plotline/climax potential, but that I want to just see on paper, I'll probably end up writing.  If I had to guess, I'd say they'll come out to around 10-15k.  Also, sequels?  Prequels?  Haha, you never know...

I’ve also got a series called “Sleep Drabbles” that are, yes, you guessed it, a series of drabbles based around one theme: sleep.  I also have a few scenes that I want to write which are based on ziam’s kids, not actually ziam themselves.  If there’s enough demand for that, I can upload those too, but they’re quite niche, so I don’t think the general fandom would be very interested.

As far as frequency for all of this, I have no idea.  I’ve always done things at my own pace and written stories that I want to write, for myself.  That won’t ever change, so I don’t want to commit to one drabble a week or one short-length fic per month.  It takes me weeks (months for this last fic) to research and interview the necessary people to get character arcs correct/believable.  I love that part of writing, and so if I have a little story that I want to write that may only be 10k but takes me ages to put together how I want, then so be it.  I will always be around to answer asks/messages and please, continue to tag me in your writing tag posts!  But please, no prompts.

So, that’s my future with fic.

Again, I cannot say thank you enough to every single one of you.  Every single thing that people tag me in (@malik-payne , @zqua1d , @zentiment , @liamisthesun , @redyellowberry I’m looking at you), I appreciate and love!  The recommendation lists that people have put me on, THANK YOU!  It’s wild to think that I used to look to rec lists for years and now I’m on them.  @ziamfanfiction THANK YOU for always having my back with exposure!  @paynefulperiods , my beloved beta reader, THANK YOU for always encouraging me and putting up with shit first drafts.  @march-z5 , THANK YOU for always being on call for ideas and listening to me bang my head against the wall at 4 am.

Now, might fuck around and make a fake picspam for the fic that never was...

Also, all of the behind scenes pages for each of my fics are now public, so feel free to check those out here.

I want to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for making this journey possible. I know people say that a lot when they gain a following of any sort, but I truly truly mean it.  You have to have talent in order to be an author, but you also have to have people who want to read your stuff.  Proof of concept is a real thing.

So thank you a million times over.

Speak soon my friends.

[bqstqnbruin]

I hate it when you stare

Wow here I am with another part, another fic. Ignooooree my typooos. Is this more soft smut? No one told me last time if what I wrote counts so uhhhhhhh

Read the whole series:  I hate the way you talk to me and the way you cut your hair // I hate the way you drive my car // I hate it when you stare // I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind // I hate you so much it makes me sick, it even makes me rhyme // I hate the way you’re always right // I hate it when you lie // I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry // I hate it when you’re not around, and the fact that you didn’t call // But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all

I really do have work to do for my class at 2:30 tomorrow but instead I finished this, so I hope you like this!

_______________________

“How is it bullshit? Everyone can tell that we’re in love with each other.”

“So, what, because other people believe it, that automatically means it’s true?”

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

Evelina was visiting home for the weekend for her mom’s birthday, which meant that you had the apartment to yourself. From Friday after work until Sunday night, you were free to do whatever you wanted by yourself. Or, you thought you were going to be doing whatever you wanted until your boss texted you saying that he wanted your project finished by Monday so you could present it that afternoon. That meant you were posted up on the couch, your hair tied in a bun on top of your head, a mug full of coffee, another of tea, and a cup with water all in front of you, the blanket normally on the back of your couch now draped over your shoulders. It was a full call to the hungover days you had back in undergrad when you woke up late and were struggling to finish the work you had due the next morning.

“It’s me!” you hear a familiar voice call from the door, snapping you out of what might have been the first and only roll you had been on working on the project.

You look up to see Matthew coming over the couch, plastic bags in hand to plop down on the table. “Remind me to change the locks.”

“That would mean you have to get up to let me in, though,” he sends a wink in your direction.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him, even though you felt butterflies throughout your entire body at the sight of him looking so comfortable next to you. It was just because he’s a guy, not because it’s Matthew. You let out a quiet sigh as he fiddles with the remote to your TV. “Who says I wouldn’t leave you in the hallway? Plus, I thought you were supposed to have practice today?” you ask, trying to focus more on your project than on him.

“We’re done, and we don’t have a game for three days for once, so we’re resting up. I figured, why not come see my favorite girl?” he says, resting his hand on your shin once your drape your legs over his lap. 

“Because Taryn is in St. Louis so you settled for me instead?”

He scoffs, slowly running his hand up and down your bare leg while his eyes fixate on the television screen. He had to be able to feel the goosebumps that he was causing with his touch. “Fine, my favorite girl in Calgary unless Taryn is visiting, are you happy?”

“Am I ever happy when I’m around you?” you tease, lifting only your eyes from your screen to look at him. Still staring at the TV, you can see the smile on his face, but it almost looks like his jaw is clenching, like he’s fighting saying something back.

“And how could I not be happy around you when you treat me like that?” Your eyes linger for a second on his smile before scanning the rest of his body. Even under the long-sleeved dry fit shirt he was wearing, you could see the outline of the muscles that graced his abdomen. His arms looked like they were begging to rip the seam of the shirt, and you wanted nothing more than to take it off of him and just let them free. “Do you like what you see, babe?” you hear him say, snapping you out of the thoughts you were convincing yourself meant nothing as he was looking at you out of the corner of his eye. 

“I’m trying to picture you as a more attractive guy,” you lie, “It would be so nice if Elias were here, wouldn’t it?” 

“If you’re implying that you want a threesome, then I don’t think I could do it with a teammate,” he laughs, his fingers tightening around your shin. Would Elias be better than Matthew? Any guy would be better than Matthew, you tell yourself. He’s your best friend, and nothing more. 

“What have I said about being crude?” you ask him, fixating your eyes on the way he’s biting his bottom lip. “I think I’m gonna go get my headphones so I can do this project.” You bolt from the living room to your bedroom, leaving Matthew there by himself while you search for your phone in a panic. 

“Hey, is everything ok?” Evelina says on the other end of the phone call as you try to search for your AirPods in the mess that was your room.

“No, Matthew is here.”

“And that’s bad because?” she asks, drawing out her last word.

Groaning, you drop your phone on your desk, prompting Matthew to call to you asking if you were ok. “I’m fine, don’t worry.” Turning back to Evelina, clearly in a panic that she could hear in your voice, “Matthew is here and I think I’m horny.”

“You’re always horny for him because you’re in love with him.”

“I’m not in love with him and I’m honry because I haven’t been touched by a man in like, three months. It’s starvation.”

You hear her groan on the other end, her parents voices in the background. “Hold on, I need to go into another room,” she says. “Ok, so you really told me two days when you got home that you and Matthew nearly fucked in public  in the liquor store. You have been touched by a man. He was also practically feeling you up at the bar a week ago, might I remind you.” 

“I don’t love him,” you say, unprompted, “And he never even kissed me.”

“Says that hickey that you somehow didn’t notice he gave you?” she says, you turning to your mirror to touch the mark she was talking about. You honestly didn’t know it was there until she said something to you when you walked in the door. “If you don’t love him, why don’t you just tell him to leave?”

“I want company and he’s the only thing I have when you aren’t here. Really, this is all your fault.”

“That was so sweet until you blamed me. If you don’t want him to leave then what’s the problem?”

“Horny,” you say at the same time. “Either do something about it or control yourself, babe, but I’ve gotta go. Miss you, love you,” she says, hanging up when you finally find your AirPods.

Pulling up your playlist so it’s already playing when you get to Matthew, you don’t even look at him as you take your computer back in your lap and throw your legs in his. You can feel his eyes tracing the outline of your body even under the baggy sweatshirt you had on from a college you never went to. 

You had worked for what was probably a solid half hour, Matthew mindlessly rubbing his hand on your leg like he did before, you needing to do everything in your power to stop from thinking about and wanting more. You were interrupted by Matthew reaching over and tugging on the hem of your shorts. “Are you really listening to Christmas music right now?”

“Is it that loud?” you ask, turning the volume down immediately.

“No, I can read your lips. You were mouthing ‘Feliz Navidad,’ and ‘Sleigh Ride.’”

“Oh, then, yes,” your cheeks flushed with embarrassment that you didn’t even realize you were doing that. 

“It’s March, babe.”

“Ok, but Christmas music is fine year round.”

“No?” he questions.

“So I’m going to tell you why you’re wrong,” you start, moving your computer to the table so you don’t drop it, provoking a laugh to escape from his lips, “While I don’t agree with all things in Catholic and the broader Christian doctrine, there are things I can agree with basically because they are up for interpretation, so I interpret them in the way I like. Take, for example, the ninth commandment: love thy neighbor. Some people take it as a literal ‘love thy neighbor’ as in ‘be a good neighbor,’ to the ones who live next door, but I think it’s a matter of caring for those around you, neighbor not being the person immediately next to you wherever you live, but just other people in general.”

“What is your point?” he asks, a devilish grin spread across his face.

“My point is that the Bible, which is the end all be all of Catholic doctrine according to some people, is up for interpretation and people use it the way that benefits them, no matter how wrong they normally are. In Hebrews 13:15, it says, “Through him let us continually offer up a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that acknowledge his name,” thereby, justifying and promoting listening to Christmas music year round. It praises Jesus, who is one of the persons that make up God, and doing year round is continuous.”

“I don’t think that’s how that works.”

“Hey, if people can be assholes and use a 2,000 year old book to try to wrongly justify their bigotry and homophobia, why can’t I use it to rightly justify my listening to christmas music all year?”

“Are you Catholic?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean I can’t learn about it and keep the things that I like with me. I’m not Jesuit but I follow their ideals like ‘care for the whole person’ and ‘be a man or woman with and for other.’ And Evelina’s parents are very religious, so we kind of put up a front whenever they visit to please them. They still think we go to Mass every Sunday.” 

“Is that why there’s sometimes a crucifix by the door?” he asks, you nodding along. “And that weird Jesus magnet where he has a chefs hat and it says ‘fish and bread are served’ underneath him?”

“Yeah, I think her dad superglued that to the fridge because no matter how many times we’ve tried to get it off it won’t budge. Plus it’s a reference to another Bible passage.” 

“I went to a Catholic high school, remember? I already knew that.” You can’t help but return the smile he was sending your way, this time your eyes flicking down to his lips, you unsure if his were doing the same. You snap out of it, biting your lip and making eye contact with Matthew, both of you breathing slightly unevenly at just thinking about what you could do with each other. Was Evelina right that you two loved each other?

No, she couldn’t be right, because you didn’t love him. You pick your computer back up to get back to work, not saying another word as Matthew turned back to the TV. You hit a deadend, finding yourself back to staring at Matthew’s perfect face while his eyes narrowed and a small smirk formed on his lips at something funny on whatever movie or show he was watching. 

“Ugh, fuck,” you groan, Matthew’s head snapping to your direction as you cover your face with your hands. “I don’t want to do this anymore.” 

He reaches over and pulls your hands from your face, intertwining his fingers in yours. “Take a break, I brought food for us.” 

“You didn’t cook it yourself, did you?” you ask. The last time he had made food for you, you were sick for a week from what you’re sure was food poisoning from something being undercooked.

He laughs, the pad of his thumb rubbing your palms. You could feel your breathing get shallow by this, trying to ignore it while he’s talking to you. “No, I got it from the store down the road, already made. Mac and Cheese!” he says, pulling it out of the bag.

You roll your eyes at his stupidity. “Matthew, we’ve been sitting here for over two hours, why would you leave that on the table instead of in the fridge?”

“It’s still warm!” he argues, opening it, “Oh and it smells so bad.” You burst out laughing as he cringes, closing it immediately. “I’ll order something else.” 

You get up to go throw out the now rancid mac and cheese in the kitchen. “Hey, where do you want to order from?” you hear Matthew call, walking into the kitchen behind you.

The list. 

It’s on the fridge.

Practically throwing yourself at it to try to tear it down in time, you rip it off the fridge and fold it up in your hand just in time for Matthew to come in. “Are you ok?” he asks you, noticing your slightly faster breathing and your hands behind your back.

“Yeah, the smell was just bad,” you lie to him, shoving the list in the band of your shorts. “And I was looking at the Jesus magnet.” 

“That thing is so creepy,” he says, both of you looking at it. Knowing Matthew, you try as discreetly as possible to move the paper to your front so he can’t feel it as he inevitably presses his front to your back, his arms draping over your shoulders. Without thinking, you reach up to touch his hands as he rests his head on yours. “It’s way too white to be Jesus.”

His arms move their way down your body, settling around your waist as he starts to nibble at your ear. “God, you are so sexy,” you hear him let out.

“You’re awfully handsy lately, aren’t you Matty?”

“Oh come on,” he says, turning you around to face him, practically pinning you against the fridge, “You know we’re always like this with each other.” 

You smile at him, cupping his face in your hands as you run the pads of your thumbs along his cheeks. “We have a weird...” you start, trying to figure out the right word to describe whatever it was you had with him, “friendship,” you settle on, not exactly liking the word yourself as your tried to hide the cringe you were sure was appearing on your face. 

He swallows hard at that word. Even relationship would have been better, even if it were more broad than ‘friendship.’ At least it wasn’t such a narrow word. It felt like even if you didn’t finish the list you didn’t know he knew about, you would never see him as more than a friend. “Well, that’s what makes it my favorite friendship.” 

The two of you stand there for a minute, holding each other and gazing into the others eyes. You could feel your breathing slow down studying Matthew’s facial features again, thinking only of how perfect they looked to you in that moment. “We should figure out where we’re getting food from,” you say, dragging your hands down his chest before dropping him all together. 

He could have stared at you like that forever. He really couldn’t think of anyone more perfect than you, anyone he would want to look at besides you. “What are you in the mood for?” he asks, moving over to the counter. Opening your fridge, you remember you still have the list folded in the band of your shorts, throwing it in before grabbing some water out. “What did you just throw in there?” Matthew asked you, having watched your every move.

“Uh, Evelina and I have this weird list that we’re putting together, it didn’t feel right to have Jesus looking over it all of a sudden,” you tell him, “But now that you had mac and cheese on my mind, I kind of want that.”

“Oh, no, you’re not changing the subject that easily,” he says, trying to reach around you to open the fridge. 

“No, come on, it’s mostly Evelina’s and I don’t know if she would want you seeing it,” you lie, batting your eyes at him and trying to contort your face to make it look like you would cry if he tried anything else. He couldn’t see the list of things you hate about it. He couldn’t find out about it. 

He sighs, knowing he wasn’t going to win this one. “I ordered you mac and cheese but I’ll pay for it if you tell me the subject of the list?” he tries to bargain. 

“Uh, it’s a list of kinks,” you lie, not knowing what else to say, and usure why that was the first thing that came to mind.

His eyes go wide, pretending to be shocked. It was the list of ten things you hate about him. It had to be. He grins anyway, trying to hide the pain he felt knowing that the list was already started, and probably nearly finished at this point, “Are any of them your kinks?” 

“Yeah,” you start to lie to him again, a grin on your face, “One of them says, ‘When Matthew leaves me alone.’”

He scrunches up his face, pretending to be hurt by your comment as he walks back to your living room. “Oh you know just how to break my heart, pretty girl.” You follow him, plopping down next to him on your couch. 

You pick up your computer, snuggling into his shoulder as he wraps his arm around you. “I have no desire to do this project.” 

“Why don’t we watch something on TV then and you can work again after we eat?” he suggests. You nod, putting the computer back down, surrendering to his pout. You feel him kiss the top of your head, scrolling through the channels. “What about Lilo and Stitch?” he asks when he finds it on one of the channels. 

“Ugh, I love this movie, but the American treatment of Hawaiians is awful, and I just can’t help but think about it every time I watch,” you say, thinking you were being annoying. “Sorry,” you apologize. Evelina was used to your rants, even if you were sure she normally tuned them out. You didn’t think Matthew wanted to listen to another rant from you. 

“Don’t get me started?” he asks, referring to the game you and the guys played at the bar.

“Don’t get me started on the American colonization of Hawaii. The Cookes’ went to Hawaii and pretty much obliterated the royal bloodline. The king of Hawaii had the Cookes build boarding schools for the royal children, with good intentions that they would be able to educate his children on royal customs to effectively rule their land. Instead, the Cookes took the Hawaiian customs and told them they were wrong, imparting their own customs on them, instead. They wanted he land for America, they wanted to eliminate the Hawaiian culture and make them as American as possible,” you say. “The Hawaiian people were a very sex positive people, but oh no, American Catholic education and their ‘no sex is the safest sex’ ideal stopped the children from living the lives they grew up expected to live. If a boy was found in a girls room doing anything in these boarding schools, they would beat the children as punishment, and probably other things that weren't even recorded. There are actually a decent number of Wikipedia pages that have had this information erased, like when you go back into the edit history. The sources, as they claimed, weren’t valid, but in reality they weren’t the Cookes’ American-centric description of these schools. They even went so far as introducing sports into the schools as ‘an antidote to the worst evil of all: sexual promiscuity,’” you comment, drawing a laugh from Matthew. “Because we all know how much athletes hate sex, right?” 

You look up at Matthew, him beaming down at you as Hawaiian Roller Coaster Ride starts ironically playing in the background, “Yeah, we hate that,” he whispers. You swallow hard, trying to ignore any feelings that might be coming up at the sight of Matthew biting his bottom lip. 

“American’s always just insert themselves where they don’t belong,” you finish, settling your head back onto his shoulder as he pulls you closer to him. 

“Why do you know all of this?” he asks.

You shrug, not really sure how to answer, “I don’t know. When I’m doing work I see one word and it sends my mind into this never ending tangent and I end up looking up stuff online and reading for hours.” 

“You really are the smartest person I know,” he says with a sigh, “Why hasn’t Ev told her parents about hiding the Catholic stuff until they come?” 

You shrug, “I don’t know. I never asked, she just told me it was something she needed to do, so I did it with her. That’s her own cross to bear,” you say, taking a minute to realize the really bad pun you just made. “Ah! See what I did there!” you practically yell, Matthew groaning.

“On that note, I think I need to leave,” he jokes, getting up off the couch.

“Oh, come on, no!” you beg, taking him by the hand and trying to drag him back down to the couch. “I don’t want you to leave,” you let out as he pulls you off the couch. 

“Really?” he asks you, sitting back down on the couch, your hands still connected.

Standing over him you nod as he pulls you into his lap, straddling him. He pulls you as close to him as you can, your hands wrapped around the back of his neck. Your mind flashes back to the liquor store, the feeling that came over you as he worked his way along your body like you had a feeling he was about to do again. 

“Come on Matthew, you know this isn’t something we do,” you tease, even though you can’t help but look at his lips, the urge to kiss him creeping up on you as you tried desperately to suppress it. If any guy had taken you into his lap like Matthew just did, you would want to do the same thing. You were just desperate for a man, not desperate for Matthew. 

“We can’t do anything?” he teases, going for your neck again. You let out a moan, praying that he doesn’t leave any more marks that you’ll have to cover up later. 

“Wait,” you say to him, pulling him off of you. He looks slightly upset, not sure what to do next. ‘Ah, fuck it,’ you think to yourself, pulling his shirt off over his head, tossing it to the side and returning the favor of the hickey he gave you. You suck on his skin, listening to the moans that escaped from his lips this time, feeling him grow hard the longer you were at it. He clenches his hands on your butt, pulling you even closer to him. You work your way up his neck and to his jaw, his grip getting tighter the closer you were to his lips. You had no idea what was coming over you and causing you to want to do this, but nothing in that moment felt better. Nothing in your life had ever felt better as you kissed his face the way he did to you the other day, hearing him moan more and more with every connection you made. 

Your lips are millimeters from his, both of you practically begging the other for connection when you’re startled by the sound of Matthew’s phone ringing. You both laugh, foreheads pressed together. One more second and it would have happened. “I think that means our food is here.” 

“Perfect fucking timing,” he mutters, not loud enough for you to hear as you get up to go grab the food. He couldn’t believe you just did that. He checks his neck in his phone camera, seeing it littered with the red marks you had left for him. He reaches up to touch them, smiling for some reason. There’s no way this list would work against him, would it? 

You come back, him practically throwing his phone so you don’t see what he’s doing, settling down on the couch with each other eating the food. Your mind starts racing with thoughts about what just happened. There was no way you really wanted that, did you? Well, you wanted a man’s touch, but it didn’t necessarily have to be Matthew. It could be any guy. 

‘I have another thing for the list,’ you text Evelina, your eyes moving between your phone screen and his hands holding his food, careful not to look up at his face.

‘Good, god, what?’

‘I hate the way he stares,’ you send her, finally looking up, not taking your eyes off Matthew as the two of you can’t help but stare at each other.

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

A chatty writing update | novels, short fiction, etc!

Hi folks!

It’s been a while since I last wrote an update on this blog! I thought it’d be fun to go back to basics, and just talk about writing. This post chats about: new plans for Feeding Habits, my newest novel, my short story goals & growing collection, along with process reflections.

(image description: a photo of green leaves with the text “writing update” in a white font written on top. /end image description)

Post starts under the cut!

General taglist (please ask to be added or removed)

@if-one-of-us-falls, @qatarcookie, @chloeswords, @alicewestwater, @laughtracksonata, @shylawrites, @ev–writes, @jaydewritesfiction, @jennawritesstories @eowynandfaramir, @august-iswriting, @aetherwrites, @avakrahn, @maisulli

What have I been up to?

For starters, I finished my second year of my Writing undergrad last week and got two of my final grades back today (A+ baby)! For anyone who has taken online university, y���all already KNOW, but this year was so difficult. Would not recommend! Really proud of myself to have gotten through this absolute rollercoaster of a school term and am excited to get into some writing. That leads us to:

What have I been up to (writing edition)?

2021 started off so fast. By the time January hit, I was so consumed in my new semester that I did not have time to write Feeding Habits (my novel). In the first few days of the term, I managed to write between class, until I could no longer keep up! Essentially, I did not write any of that novel until exam season (last week), where I did manage to get in about 3k words in ~4 days.

Feeding Habits

I’m currently drafting what I believe will be the last chapter of this book (chapter 10: Swan Song). This chapter is so bizarre for a few reasons. It begins the book’s third part and also marks the shift back into Lonan’s head from Harrison’s. I originally thought this part would be much, much longer, with at least another five chapters to go, but quickly realized the book’s content was nearly completed. In my 4 day 3k palooza, I hit 50k in the book (the word count goal), and couldn’t see myself extending past 60k. Since then, I’ve made the loose decision to write this final chapter as a ~novella. Here are a few reasons why:

1. This chapter is structurally very strange.

I unashamedly shift from present to past to present to past past, and so much more every 12 words. I mapped out the timeline on a sheet of paper, and there were over 20 shifts in scenes (the chapter is only about 4400 words at the moment). The fictive past is incredibly important to this chapter, more important than the present, and I thought it would make more sense to not break randomly for a chapter so I could upkeep the consistent inconsistency of the chapter.

2. The chapter is very abstract

This stems from the structural changes, but there are paragraphs in this chapter of the fictive present that are loosely based in reality. They’re more poems than they are factual paragraphs, and keeping them all contained in one place (so a mega chapter/ novella) would reduce the most confusion!

3. There’s not much left to cover

Like I said above, Feeding Habits is on its last leg, lol! I know exactly where the book needs to end up, which is very, very soon from where I’m currently at on the timeline. Swan Song should cover what 2-4 chapters would cover in terms of arcs.

Feeding Habits and I have a really weird relationship, tbh! When I realized a few weeks ago that it’d been over a year since I started the book, I realized I just needed to finish it. Not that I want to rush (because I’ve taken longer than a year to write a book in the past), but that in order to move onto another project, I’d like to put this one behind first. This book has been the hardest thing I’ve ever written, and has reminded me there’s always a time to let go. This sort of scrounges up a conversation about letting this entire series go, which is certainly something I’ve been contemplating doing soon(ish). If this spinoff series gets a third book, that may or may not be the last Fostered book for a very long time (or ever)! There are many complex reasons to move on, but the main one is that I have other projects I’d like to focus on. This is not a definitive decision, but something I’ve certainly been thinking about!

Here are a few excerpts I wrote recently:

(TW: death, gore)

Dying feels like being a trout dangled out of water. Clinging to a hook. Mouth open. Scales iridescent in a final death cry. It’s like blood spurting up the knuckles, drowning out the flesh. It’s that moment on the long fall down when the clouds cup the body. Easy drifting. The sound a skull makes when it cracks is really just the afterthought.

(TW: death, gore)

Kill shot. Death blow. Coup de grace. Right in the heart. He feels it. The blood swelling, slicking his palms. He can do it. Reach into the cavity. Feel for the ribs. Part each bone. Then cup the humming heart. Stay there. Right. It’s never been easier.

Look at this PURE moment of Lonan holding a baby I CANNOT:

The grocery store was a fifteen-minute walk away. With Olivia clinging to his shoulder, Lonan was acutely aware that she could feel his heartbeat. Open valve. Close. Repeat. Hers pulsed right above his, a miniature drumming. The sky had bruised purple, misted with clouds. The evening air nipped his cheeks, so he made sure Olivia was securely fastened between him and his jacket. With wide eyes, she absorbed the drowsy suburbia, all its family cars pulling into driveways, all its couples heading back home after a sunset walk. When Lonan passed a young boy walking two golden retrievers, Olivia giggled, and didn’t stop, even after he’d spent fifty dollars on groceries and nearly the rest on a red Corolla marked with a MUST GO NOW sign outside a convenience store.

Let’s move on!

Mandy and Cora

I said I wouldn’t talk too much about this project, but I just love it so much?? I wanted to share my SUPER early thoughts on drafting a novel, especially one that is SO different from what I’ve been writing recently. I talked about this before in THIS post, but the summary about this project is that it’s a YA contemporary novel! Can’t believe I’m writing YA again, it’s been so long, but I also think it’s going so well. Everything I’ve learned as a literary fiction writer has been a fantastic primer for transferring back to the genre. Admittedly, I have not written much, but I’m having a lot of fun diving back into a lighter project. This is the summary:

Cora and Mandy are identical twins who’ve always done everything together. But when Mandy decides to go to university out of province after graduation and Cora doesn’t, Cora takes this as an opportunity to “test run” life apart from her sister for the first time by spending the summer at her aunt’s house across the country.

I have come up with a few ~things since I last talked about this project, mostly how I’d like to structure it. As of now, I’d like the book to be structured super loosely. I’m really pulling on a lot of inspo from “We Are Okay” by Nina LaCour (which is SO good), particularly how “nothing happens-y” that book is. This project (which I still need a title for!!) will be structured in short chapters that cover something Cora does on her own for the first time (without Mandy). For example, a few ideas are “Flight”, “Lunch”, and “Groceries”. “Flight” is the first “chapter” (they’re really kind of vignettes) where Cora flies to her aunt’s house. I still can’t determine if this book will take place in Canada. On one hand, I feel like there will be a wider audience if it takes place in the US (is that just an assumption??? maybe?? someone let me know!), but also: don’t really care too much about an audience at the moment! It could also take place in Canada (So Ontario and British Columbia). But if it does take place in the US, I think it may take place in NYC and San Francisco. The problem is: I really don’t like researching lol, and while I’ve been to NYC many times, I will definitely write it wrong! Does this really matter on a first draft?? absolutely not lol, but of course I am already overthinking!

But back to structure: I am looking forward to seeing what this looser structure will do. This is a story that is solely around one half of a set of twins learning to be her own person (and ultimately that she doesn’t have to completely forget her sister in order to do that), and as a twin who KNOWS this feeling, I think this structure of her doing things for the first time is SUPER relatable.

I was worried it might sound silly/worrying to others who are not twins that Cora hadn’t done things like “lunch” or “groceries” on her own, but I feel this so much as an identical twin myself! Not that she hasn’t done anything at all by herself, but as a twin, when you do something without your twin for the first few times, at least in my experience, you notice. If any twins are reading this--weigh in!

This story is the most personal thing I’ve ever written. It definitely is an OwnVoices book! Usually, I avoid details that are remotely similar to me because they make me uncomfortable haha, but with this book, it’s all me, lol! The characters are all Guyanese, which is SO fun because I’ve been planning what they eat (my fellow Caribbean peeps know: the FOOD!), which is so fun (yes they have pumpkin and shrimp, yes they have roti, yes they have pera, yes they have mithai). Every time I’ve gone to dabble at this book, or even think about it, I get incredibly emotional for this reason? I don’t exactly know why. I think this is a story I just so want to tell, with the culture I love SO much that I definitely struggled to love as a child. This is reclamation bitchessss!

Not going to lie tho: the prospect of writing ~a book~ is kind of freaky! I’m going to make the minimum word count for this book pretty short (50k) and see where it goes from there. I think I will focus on this project this summer! Originally I was going to write a literary novel this summer, but I think this one’s calling my name!

Here’s a pretty rough excerpt:

Try. I remind myself that’s what I’m doing after the flight attendant fills me a disposable cup of Coca Cola and all I can think of is Mandy and I shoving Mentos into a bottle of the stuff when we were twelve. Just me, wedged in the middle seat between an exchange student heading out for summer break and a middle-aged woman sipping a cocktail, thinking of Mandy and I bursting whole oranges in a blender when we were bored one Winter break as the plane dips through a wave of turbulence. Mandy and I dying our hair neon green with highlighters (didn’t work—our hair is too dark) as the plane lands on the tarmac. Mandy and I arguing so loud last month, we both lost our voices as I lug my carry-on out of the overhead compartment and shuffle off the plane and through the airport, searching for Aunt Vel.

Short Fiction

I’ve written so much short fiction this year! I have a goal to write a short story a month (they can range in length, as long as 1 is “complete”), so my short story brain has seriously been soaking it all up lately. Let’s chat my month to month breakdown so far:

January:

I wrote four stories in January! The first is a flash fiction piece called “Shark Swimming” that follows a young woman who attends a shark swimming class after breaking up with her girlfriend. I wrote this story for a “test” workshop for my fiction class, and it was based off the prompt “think about something you’re afraid to do and make the character do that thing”. I’m not particularly afraid of sharks, but had been wanting to use the title “Shark Swimming” for AGES (literally since 2018).

This story is one of my favourites. It’s only about 900 words, but I think there’s something profound in how mundanely specific it is. The entire story doesn’t even see the narrator swim with sharks once; it actually takes place fully in the sanctuary’s lobby. But I really love this narrator. This is the first story I’ve written in second person in a while, though I felt really connected to the unnamed narrator. She struggles with accepting that she truly is a “boring” person, and there’s something about the final image that really gets me!

I’ve been submitting this around, though it’s been rejected a handful of times. Hoping I can secure it at a magazine one day because I really love it!

The second story is “Joanne, I’ll Pray for You” which is actually a rewrite of one of my very first short stories (the first story I did not write for a class haha), “NYC in Your Apartment”. I LOVE this rewrite a lot, and also learned the original is not a very good short story! Revising this story taught me just how much I’ve learned in the 2 years I’ve been writing short fiction. Seeing the 2019 version versus the 2021 version side by side is fascinating because I essentially “gutted’ the 2019 version of its beginning and end until all that was left was the middle of the story (aka the actual story). AKA: this is the only story I’ve ever written with a hopeful ending and I cut out all the happy bits lol I am SO sorry (that arc is more for a novel or novella). That’s how this went from a 5k word story to an 1800 word story (my Submittable thanks me for this lol). A lot of details and scenes I included were more pertinent to a 3 act structure/novel, which of course short stories don’t often have because of their brevity. I love rambling about writing theory, and seeing that actually pay off is so fascinating!

(TW: trauma)

Like the original, this story follows Joanne, a woman in her early twenties, who spontaneously breaks up with her boyfriend. She claims the poltergeist haunting her drove her to this decision. The original draft focused a lot more on the traumatic events Joanne survives, but this draft really loosens them up. It focuses less so on the events themselves, and more on how Joanne’s life is affected. I found the details of these events were less important, and even sort of contradicted Joanne’s insistence she is being haunted. Instead, the poltergeist really takes more precedence in the new draft as a force Joanne doesn’t understand. That ambiguity, I think, is what the story truly needed.

I also centralized Joanne’s relationship with her boyfriend, Julian, here. Now don’t get me wrong, I really didn’t add anything to this draft. It was a matter of trimming the fat around it to leave the lean “meat” in the centre. But by removing that fat, I was able to emphasize what was most important here, and that was her relationship. Julian always played a really big role in the original draft, but I feel like his role as both a friend and partner to Joanne is much more emphasized since this draft literally is only two scenes now. Because there is less, there is more room for Joanne to reflect, which I’m happy about!

A final change I made was the setting and therefore the title. The original, which was “NYC in Your Apartment,” I couldn’t keep because I shifted the setting to Toronto (this is how I originally saw it, but in 2019 I just?? couldn’t?? write?? canlit??), and “Toronto in Your Apartment” sounded sort of gross LOL. The new title comes from a line in the story which I think is more relevant to the themes!

The next short story I wrote in January was “How to Spell Alpaca.” This one is super fun because I wrote it SO fast (in about 15 minutes or so). THIS is the writing update if you’re interested in learning more. I talked extensively about this one in that update, but some developments are that I dove into an edit a few weeks ago to really understand the core of the story. I’m still not quite there (this is just an intuitive feeling; I know not everything has “clicked), but I am really intrigued by the two mothers in the story, the narrator, and her newfound acquaintance, Violet. Both really struggle to understand their place as mothers (the narrator even declares she isn’t a mother anymore). The narrator, who is in her 50s, sees herself in Violet, who is much younger (~20s), and so she views Violet’s relationship with her daughter in a cautionary, yet mournful way, like she can see it will end up like her own relationship with her daughter, despite wanting the opposite. This is a really subtle story. I feel like if you blink, you’ll miss the message. But I think it’s compelling for that reason. It’s really a portrait of parenting and how to grapple with mistakes you may make that inevitably affect your children. Wow just unlocked the theme writing this lol.

The final story I wrote in January is “The Party,” which may be in my top 3 faves I’ve ever written. This story follows Aida, a recent divorcee in her ~40s. The day her divorce turns official, she moves into a new house and receives a party invitation addressed to the previous homeowner, yet RSVP’s anyway. At this party, she’s hoping to find some sense of noticeability, having struggled with being nondescript her whole life. Things seem quite normal at the party, until it gets bizarre.

I LOVE this story, y’all. Like “How to Spell Alpaca” it really delves into motherhood. Aida, our narrator, is incredibly hurt after her divorce. She now lives farther from her children she struggled to feel connected to in the first place, and doesn’t really know how to reignite her life. This party is a means to do that. This is the first story I’ve written that contains a “twist” which is strange because I really prefer stories that give us as much info as possible upfront, but yes, this one sort of twists.

February

I wrote one story in February, and that was “Protect the Young.” This title is SO changing when I think of a new one because it’s thematically incorrect, haha, but this story follows a woman in her late 40s whose daughter, Lindy, announces she is married the same day all their backyard chickens turn up dead. The discovery of dead chickens prompts our narrator to recall her ex-husband’s murder and the role her daughter may have played in his death.

I love this story so much! I think this would make a great closing for my short story collection. It just has that vibe! I wrote this for my second fiction workshop. I thought I had to hand in the story a week earlier than I had to, so I panicked and wrote this in one sitting! Little did I know, I did not need to do that lol but I’m very happy because this story is so fun. We get to learn more about Arnold (her ex), his relationship with Lindy, and how that translates to Lindy’s relationship with her new husband, Malcolm. I LOVE true crime (I listen to about 3-4 hours of case coverage daily), and this is my first “true crime” story. Because of that, I’m very sus of a few details that probably wouldn’t slide in actual investigatory work, so I’ll also be working on that in a revision. My professor also gave me a great suggestion that may alter the story’s structure a bit, though I look forward to toggling with it in the future.

March

In March, I was really on a Criminal Minds kick lol. I’ve been watching this show since I was seven (oops), and dove into a rewatch since it hit Disney+! This story, “Where to Run When the Lamb Roars,” is very clearly Rachel watching 5 episodes of CM a day. Oops! We follow 14-year-old Astrid as she and her older half brother kidnap a young girl to sacrifice for their yearly ritual.

I knew a few things going into this story, but the main thing was that I did NOT want to show any details of a potential murder (if one even occurs). I really wanted to keep all of those elements off the page because this story is not about those events, but about Astrid’s relationship with her brother. They are a murderous duo, with Astrid actually being the dominant partner. I wanted to explore that. I knew her brother, Fox, was more of a submissive partner in their team, even when he used to do this same thing with his father when he was much younger (chilling!), and so it was a task to explore how this young girl’s desire for violence works. The end actually comes right before the story starts, one could say, but I like it for this reason. It really made me contemplate the story by the time I finished it, and helped me examine what it really was about versus what it appeared to be about.

April

(TW: sexual content, non explicit)

I was so busy this month! Who knows if I’ll write a story last minute, but I did write one story this month called “Five Times Fast.” I wrote this during a “writing sprint” that was being hosted at a flash fiction workshop I recently took with one of my favourite writers ever, K-Ming Chang. I learned so much from this class, and am so happy I came out of it with a draft! This story is just over 300 words, so the shortest flash I’ve ever written, but I’m really happy with it. It was based off the prompt “describe the last time you or your character was naked.” In this case, the narrator has a “friends with benefits” relationship with Ricky who works at a laundromat. This story highlights a moment in this relationship (and also Ricky’s goofy personality lol). I really like it! Hopefully I’ll submit it to some magazines soon.

My short story collection

Very briefly I wanted to touch on my short story collection which I’ve titled “She is Also Dead.” I’ve been meaning to make a blog post on this, so look out for that in the coming months, but this collection is already at around 35k words (about 14 stories so far). The collection also surprisingly has a solid amount of flash fiction which is kind of fun! There’s definitely a range here, which is what I personally love in short story collections.

I feel very professional now that I have a ~collection chart. This is her:

(image description: A chart with the title “She is Also Dead.” It is broken into four columns: Story, Status, Word Count, and Published. Entry 1 - Story: Slaughter the Animal. Status: Revisions, Word Count, 3982, Published: N/A. Entry 2 - Story: Joanne, I’ll Pray for You, Status: Polished, Word Count: 1809, Published: N/A. Entry 3 - Story: Primary Organs, Status: Published, Word Count: 2342, Published: The Malahat Review. Entry 4 - Story: Faberge, Status, Polished, Word Count: 619, Published: N/A. Entry 5 - Story: The Wolf-Antelope Will Not Come for Us, Status, Polished, Word Count: 1556, Published: filling Station (forthcoming). Entry 6 - Story: How to Spell Alpaca, Status: revisions, Word Count: 1327, Published: N/A. Entry 7 - Story: Blink Twice for Final Judgement, Status: Polished, Word Count: 6572, Published: N/A. Entry 8 - Story: The Species is Dead, Status: Published, Word Count: 1208, Published: Minola Review. Entry 9 - Story: Shark Swimming, Status: Polished, Word Count: 907, Published: N/A. Entry 10 - Story: The Party, Status, Polished, Word Count 2339, Published: N/A. Entry 11 - Story: Fig, Status: Polished, Word Counter: 947, Published: N/A. Entry 12 - Story: Protect the Young, Status: Revisions, Word Count: 4128, Published: N/A. Entry 13 - Story: Where to Run When the Lamb Roars, Status: Revisions, Word Count: 2174, Published: N/A. Entry 14 - Story: Phantom Limbs, Status: Revisions, Word Count: 4844, Published: N/A.) /end image description.

This order is DEFINITELY not permanent (at this point whenever I write a story, I just fit it randomly into this chart lol), and some of the info is outdated (for example, Slaughter the Animal is now polished!!! thank god!!!). But just an idea of what I’m thinking of including.

This is the summary so far:

In SHE IS ALSO DEAD, characters are pushed to act on their gravest impulses. A small town turns murderous when their local invasive species, the Janices, begin dying. A child struggles to understand her mother’s suicide. A college dropout who insists she’s being haunted by a poltergeist unexpectedly breaks up with her boyfriend. A mother acknowledges her daughter’s murderous tendencies after her backyard chickens mysteriously die. A young girl caters the funeral of a girl rumored to be killed by a wolf-antelope. A newly-divorced mother RSVP’s to a bizarre party she was not invited to, and a murderous brother and sister upkeep their yearly tradition of abducting a young girl. These stories follow characters who navigate death, violent desires, womanhood, and loss, both self-imposed and otherwise.

This is also so subject to change as I may pull and add stories to the collection!

I think I’m going to leave this update here for now! I’ve written TONS of poetry too, but I honestly ~hate my poetry right now lol, so! Hope you enjoyed this chill rambly update. Hope writing has going well for you all! All the best!

--Rachel

[221bshrlocked]

Starstruck (3)

Pairing: Chris Beck x Reader

Words: 5051

Warnings: Masturbation. Caught in the act kinda thing. Oral (female receiving). Penetrative, unprotected sex (wrap the shlong before you king kong). More science-y, kinda romantic talk. Fluffy Beck. 

Summary: It’s the holidays and everyone’s gone for Christmas but you’re still stuck in school because you need to retake your final since the professor was nice enough and didn’t want to fail you. It just so happened that there is a sciences expert living in the same house as you, one that you’ve never spoken to before. Things get interesting when he offers to help you out, but what’s in it for him?

Prompt: “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

A/N: We’re going to pretend that part 2 wasn’t posted two years ago. God I’m so happy I finally finished this. Chris Beck will always hold a special place in my heart. I hope you liked my rendition of one soft college space nerd. You can catch up with the two other parts here and here. Please let me know how I’m doing in the comments. This isn’t beta’d btw.

Read Previous Part Here

Had it not been for the exam you were terrified of, you would have probably allowed yourself to enjoy every minute you spent with Chris a little bit more. True to his word, Chris was available to answer any and all of your questions, no matter the time of day. He even convinced you to go out with him a couple of more times when he saw how stressful your days were. Between memorizing formulas and solving chemistry problems, you were sure this was the worst week of your life. 

But then you remembered how much Chris made you laugh and you realized that had it not been for this exam, you wouldn’t have been able to spend time with him. And you hated how absolutely adorable he was, just the right amount of dorky and sexy. When the day of the exam arrived, Chris walked with you to the professor’s office, telling you he was sure you were going to pass it and that you just needed to trust yourself. He was about to walk away when the door of the office opened and out came your professor, Dr. Daniels. 

“Hey Chris, I haven’t seen you since your undergrad years. How long has it been?” Chris shook his hand and you could only stand there awkwardly as they struck up a conversation.

“I think two years maybe, I’ve been meaning to email you actually. But we can talk about that later.” Chris smiled before turning to you and wishing you good luck.

“Oh you know Y/N?” Dr. Daniels pointed to you and you nodded at the question. 

“Uh yeah we live in the same house.” You wondered why Chris didn’t tell him he was helping you out but you didn’t think too much of it.

“I tell you, if you’d asked him for help, then this would have been the easiest two hours of your life.” Dr Daniels said to you, laughing and watching as you looked at Chris for a moment before turning back and responding to him.

“Actually, Chris here has been helping me out for the past week. I’m really lucky I found him.” You refused to look at Chris after your little comment, afraid you’d said too much in front of him. 

“Oh well in that case, you’ve got nothing to worry about. Come on in, the quicker you start, the quicker you can finish and enjoy your break with Chris...and I’ll see you later.” Dr. Daniels motioned for you to step inside his office before walking behind you and nodding at Chris. 

“Yeah, it was nice catching up with you.” Chris waved at him, his eyes never leaving you as you set up your calculator and pencils on the desk. You looked back just in time to see him smiling at you before shoving his hands in his pockets and walking away. You took a deep breath before looking down at the exam packet, writing your name on the blue book and flipping the first page to begin your nightmare of an afternoon.

Two hours later, you put everything in your bag and stood up, reluctantly walking to Dr. Daniels desk before turning it in.

“So, how are we feeling this time around?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure. But I think it’s better than last week. Once again, thank you so much for giving me the chance to do better. I can’t begin to tell you how much of a difference this makes.”

“Please, it’s nothing. I don’t understand why, to this day, they allow students who aren’t going in the field to take this level of Organic Chemistry. It makes no sense to me so anything to help you out and get back at the school.” He chuckled, flipping through the pages of handwriting before placing the blue book on top of his pile of exams. “I’ll email you your grade by the end of the night just so you don’t have to worry about it during your break. And good luck with everything else, it was a pleasure having you in class.” 

“Thank you so much Dr. Daniels. Enjoy your break and Merry Christmas.” 

“Merry Christmas.”

You exited his office, quietly shutting the door behind you before turning around, only to bump into someone. “Oh sorry I didn’t s- Chris! W-what’re you doing here?” You stared at him like he grew a second head, not sure why he was standing right outside the office.

“I got us hot chocolate to celebrate you acing that final!” He handed you your cup and walked ahead of you. You stared at the cup in your hands then back at him, amazed that he was somehow still single. 

“Oh wow thank you, you didn’t have to.” You took a long sip of the drink, wanting to hide behind your up for a little.

“Of course I did. So umm, do you have any plans tonight?” Chris cleared his throat before looking at his shoes.

“Not really no. Dr. Daniels said he’d get my grade by the end of the night so I was just going to spend the rest of my day on my bed, trying not to cry because I probably didn’t do well. No offense to your impeccable tutoring skills.” Humor was your defense mechanism but Chris didn’t think what you said was funny, stopping abruptly before turning and facing you.

“Listen, you understood everything I explained and you did good in there. Give yourself some credit. And since you’re doing nothing, then I think we should go have dinner and watch a movie.” He rambled through that last bit and you blinked confusingly at him before nodding in agreement. Chris continued to walk, opening the door of the building for you and waiting until you exited before following behind you.

“I- sorry, I meant to ask you to dinner, n-not force you into it. If you don’t want to go that’s fine I just-”

“I was hoping you’d ask.” You cut him off, reaching for his hand and intertwining your fingers. It took Chris three seconds to look down and smile at you before tripping over his words again. You sighed in relief and patted yourself on the back for the moment of bravery. 

“Great t-that’s great. You’re really great.” You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your mouth, and it only worsened when you noticed him blush.

“I’m sorry I promise I’m not laughing at you...I just think it’s adorable that you’re a genius who managed to say ‘great’ three times in a row. No other adjectives in your dictionary right now?” Chris’ embarrassment was more evident now and you hated that you couldn’t stop teasing him. He looked so cute trying to hide from you and you wanted to see him blush again.

“Well, I would be capable of using other adjectives to describe how happy I am right now had it not been for a certain pretty girl who actually agreed to go out with me…” Whatever you thought he would say, that was the last thing that came to mind and you pretended you weren’t jumping up and down in your mind because did he really just call you pretty?

“What’s the matter Y/N? Cat got your tongue?” There was a hint of flirtation in his tone and you rolled your eyes at him, knowing fully well that he could see your reaction to his words. You walked in silence the rest of the way, occasionally catching each other staring before giggling and clasping your hands a little tighter. When you did reach the house, Chris was first to walk in, telling you that he had no patience for the rest of your house mates. No one was in so the two of you sat in the living room and played cards. 

Neither of you watched the time and you only noticed how many hours went by when you heard the familiar bell of the church on campus strike six times. You were hysterically laughing at Chris telling you about how he had to scrub down his friend during a Chemistry lab one time because he tripped and spilled some random chemical on his hands. It wasn’t acidic thankfully but they still had to follow protocol and Chris made sure his friend would never let it down.

“Oh god is that the time already? Listen, we should go get dressed to make it in time for the last showing of the night.” Chris collected all the cards and stood up, pulling you along with him and guiding you upstairs.

“I’ll be ready in fifteen.” You reached your room and ran inside, afraid you’d do or say something stupid about how much you enjoyed the day. Shutting the door, you frantically ran around your room, trying to decide on something cute to wear. You finally paired a long-sleeve shirt with a skirt only to see Chris’ NASA sweatshirt lying on your couch. Picking it up, you took a deep breath and walked to his room to give it to him. When you saw the door was open, you knocked softly and walked in, looking around to see where he was. 

Maybe he went downstairs to grab something...

Leaving the sweatshirt on his chair, you turned around to leave only to find an almost naked and incredibly wet Chris standing in front of you and drying his hair. You tried so hard to not let your eyes go below his neck but you couldn’t, watching as a few droplets of water rolled down his chest, almost as if they were inviting you to go and lick them off. 

When you did finally meet his eyes, you saw a faint blush take over his cheeks and neck.

“Did you need anything?” His hands dropped from his head and he looked around to see if you might have left something in his room by accident.

“I uhh, there was this thing- I mean I found your ummm….s-sweatshirt…I had your sweatshirt and I just wanted to return it.” You looked everywhere else but him, silently waiting for him to kick you out of his room or call you out for going inside without his permission.

“Thanks,” Chris could tell how much you were affected by him and he wasn’t a vain person, not really, but he felt so proud of the hours he spent in the gym because to have you looking at him like that was a dream come true. He could tell how embarrassed you were and decided to end the awkward moment, moving aside and continuing to dry his hair. 

“I’ll see you in a bit.” You whispered before, quite literally, sprinting out of the room and into yours. The door was slammed shut behind you by accident and you hated how shamelessly obvious you were in front of him. Waiting for a few seconds, you moved around the room to try and even out your breath. You felt a sudden chill go down your body and you didn’t realize what you were doing until you were laying down on your bed and pulling the skirt down your legs. Shutting your eyes, it took seconds to conjure up the image of Chris in nothing but a towel, his hair wet and dripping down his impressive chest. You bit your lower lip and moved your panties to the side, sucking on your fingers before reaching down to your slit.

You slowly circled your clit, applying enough pressure to get you wet before inching your middle finger inside your aching core, sighing as you pictured Chris’ hands instead, his blue eyes taking you in as he brought you pleasure. Spreading your thighs a little wider, you increased your pace and imagined his cock teasing your entrance and coating himself with your juices. You knew you had to be quick because the last thing you wanted to do was miss spending more time with him. Throwing back your head, you moaned his name over and over again as you felt yourself reaching that little high. 

But before you could let go, you heard a swear in the form of a vague whisper coming from the direction of the door, eyes widening in horror when you looked up and saw Chris standing there and staring at you. You didn’t know what to do, reluctantly removing your hands before sitting up and grabbing a towel.

“STOP!” Chris wanted to apologize when he saw your body jump at the loud command, but he wanted to make sure you didn’t wipe your hand anywhere. He carefully approached you, not wanting to frighten you anymore with his presence. You watched him like a hawk, knowing this road only had one end.

Chris stood beside the bed and leaned down, looking at your heaving chest before gently taking your hand, not giving you a chance to react as he pulled it to his mouth and started sucking on your fingers. You moaned at the filthy reaction, your eyes incapable of focusing on anything but the way he rolled his tongue around your wet fingers. 

When he saw that you weren’t going to push him away, he let go of your hand and kneeled on the bed, trapping your body between his arms as he leaned down and captured your lips in a heated kiss. You melted beneath him, all shyness flying out the window as you felt his hands explore your flushed skin. You moaned into his mouth when you felt him slip his hands beneath your shirt. But Chris misunderstood and immediately pulled away, searching your features for any sign of discomfort before he asked if he could take your shirt off.

“Is...is this okay?” He whispered, stopping his exploration of your skin to not distract you. Your eyes fluttered open and looked into his, and he smiled to himself when he saw how dilated your pupils were.

“Oh god yes please Chris.” 

That seemed to be all that Chris needed to hear because not a second later, he was fisting his hands in your shirt and dragging it up your body until it was off. He couldn’t help but let his eyes roam over the expanse of your newly exposed torso, licking his lips in anticipation when he could see your nipples poking through the thin material of your bra. He returned his attention to your eyes, smiling when you sighed as he slipped his arms behind your back to unclasp your bra. When he pulled the straps down your arm and threw the undergarment behind him, your breathing picked up and he thought it’d probably be better if he slowed down a bit.

“Relax Y/N, if you want me to stop I c-” He slowed down and was about to move away from you when he felt your hands grab his wrists and pull him back. 

“No, n-no keep going please. I just- you...you make me nervous.”

“Why baby? You didn’t look nervous five minutes ago when you called out my name as these little fingers sank into your sweet pussy.” He shouldn’t have teased you about what he saw but he couldn’t pass up at the chance, the look on your face making him grow harder in his jeans. 

“Chris...please.” You turned away from him, nuzzling into the arm next to your cheek and biting down on his skin to distract him. 

“Tell me honey, what were you thinking of? I’ll give you anything you want, anything you want from me. But I wanna know what you were thinking of. Please.” Chris leaned down and nipped at your jaw before leaving a trail of kisses down your throat, biting down on your shoulder when it took you a little longer to respond to him.

“I- I thought of your fingers touching me, m-making me...oh god, making me cum. And...and I pictured you teasing me with your cock as you spread my thighs open and f-finally...finally- please, oh fuck please…” You shivered when you felt him slowly easing your panties down your leg before settling between your thighs.

“Finally what baby?” Chris looked up and held your gaze as he bit into your inner thighs, smiling he saw your hands fisting into the sheets beneath you.

“F-fucked me until I forgot my name.” You blinked down at him, gasping when he raised an eyebrow at your choice in words before he leaned down one more time and kissed your skin.

“Well why didn’t you just say so sweetheart.” His mischievous smile made you nervous and you threw your head back as soon as you felt his tongue lick at your slit. You moaned and bit into the pillow when his lips closed around your clit and violently sucked at the engorged nub, and you swore you could feel him smirk when your hands shot to his hair and pulled on it.

“C-chris...fuck oh my god your mouth! Feels so good, so good...so-” Your back arched off the bed almost painfully and Chris reluctantly shut his eyes and dove into your cunt, humming in approval and moaning at your taste the harder you pulled at his hair. He let go of your legs and pushed down on your thighs before moving one hand to replace his tongue. He looked up and saw bliss taking over your features, using the moment of distraction to spit on your cunt before easing two fingers into your fluttering walls. 

Your eyes shot open instantly, looking down at him just as he descended on you again and licked at your clit while his fingers thrust in and out of you. You couldn’t focus on one specific sensation, the different stimuli pushing you to that familiar fluttering in your stomach. You were already so close before and feeling his fingers replace yours drove you over the edge. 

“Go on baby, let go. Cum for me, let me taste this sweet cunt drenching me. Please baby I want you so fucking badly it hurts. Be a good little girl and cum on my fingers so I could finally fuck you like you want.” Hearing him whispering those filthy, unhinged words to you broke you apart and you fell to the bed again, thighs shaking violently as you gushed around his fingers and on his tongue. Chris continued to suck on your clit, wanting to prolong your pleasure for as long as possible. With a slight graze of his teeth against your little bundle of nerves, you screamed his name and unintentionally shut your thighs around his head. 

Chris kissed your slit one last time before he eased his fingers out of you, rubbing the muscles of your legs to calm you down as he filled his eyes with your flushed skin. He bit his lower lip when he saw your stomach fluttering and your legs slightly shaking, squeezing your calves once before moving off of the bed and stripping off his clothes.

“C-chris…” You finally managed to open your eyes, smiling hazily at him as you touched yourself and watched as he took his clothes off. He was down to his boxers and waited a moment, laughing when he saw you pinch and pull at your nipples while you whined for him to hurry up.

“Aren’t you a greedy little thing?” Chris winked at you when he took his boxers off, his chest expanding with pride when he saw the look on your face. 

“Fuck me…” You spread your thighs wide open when he moved to sit between your knees, unable to hold back from reaching to him and grasping his heavy cock in your hand. “We- we don’t...fuck that’s it baby. Your hands are so warm...we don’t have to do anything you- you don’t want.”

“Chris please, need you. Want your- your cock in me, stretching me...fucking me. Hard...please.” You were speaking in broken sentences and Chris had to hold back from coming right then and there. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he allowed you to pull him closer to your cunt.

“Wait- wait...we need a-”

“IUD...I have an IUD...and I haven’t been with anyone in a long time. Unless you want one. I didn’t mean to make it seem like-” 

“Fucking hell you’re going to be the death of me baby. I was tested after my last time, can’t fucking remember when that was to be honest. Are you...are you sure? I can go grab a condom right now.” Chris didn’t take his eyes off of you once, hands gripping your ass as you maneuver yourself closer to him and swipe the head of his cock against your clit.

“Please...wanna feel you with nothing between us. Oh god Chris I just- I want you. Now. Please, fuck me. F-fuck me.” Your desperate pleas made him twitch in your hand and he nodded at you, looking down and watching as you slowly pushed the head of his cock in your cunt.

“Fuck...oh baby you’re so big. You’re stretching me Chris...already feel so full. Fuck, I- I need…” You weren’t sure what you were asking of him but Chris seemed to understand what you needed, leaning down and molding his lips with yours as he inched into you. He felt your nails digging into his back and groaned when your cunt clenched tightly around him. “Oh sweet fucking god Y/N...you’re so tight around me...squeezing the fuck out of me. Fuck baby that’s it...take it. Take my cock in that little pussy, you’re so perfect. Made for me...made to take my cock.” He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, kissing and licking at your damp skin as he finally sheathed himself fully inside of you.

You were both breathing heavily, and you whimpered when he continued to swear against your neck. You could tell he was having a difficult time holding back, the thought of how patient he was making your heart skip a beat. When you finally relaxed your muscles enough, you scratched the back of his neck and begged him to move.

“Chris…”

“Sweetheart...I- can I move?” 

“Y-yes...please.” 

The whispered plea drove him mad with lust and he pushed up on his elbows to look at you, never once breaking eye contact as he pulled out and bucked his hips back into you again. You sighed his name and threw your head back, focusing on the way his hard dick twitched inside you as it slid against your walls. You could feel the tip of his cock hitting that deep, soft spot inside you over and over again, knowing that you were somehow already close to coming again. 

“You’re amazing baby, fucking exquiste. Like heaven...heaven and my dreams. Oh god, I’m- you’re clenching so tightly around me...could feel this cunt sucking me in deeper. Shit, are- are you already close again?” He could feel the familiar tightening of your walls and hissed when you nodded at him.

“Ok...fuck, could you wait for me darling? Please...wanna cum with you, feel you milking me dry. Please baby I’m begging here. Wait for me, fuck, wait for me.” You couldn’t deny him his request even if you wanted to, and you opened your eyes just in time to see his eyebrows furrow in focus. You parted your lips and groaned his name like a mantra, telling him of how hot and hard and thick he felt, whispering how much you wanted him to cum in you, to fill you up and keep fucking you until neither of you could move.

“Baby...oh god, baby you’re fucking amazing. Beautiful...perfect. Oh fuck, I- I’m…”

“Cum with me Chris...please, want to feel you cum in me. With me. Oh- oh please-”

As soon as you looked down and saw where you were joined, the thread uncoiled, and you threw your arms around Chris, pulling him closer and gasping his name as he picked up the pace and fucked into you harder, the sound of slapping skin filling the room and making you wish you could scream his name.

He bit into your shoulder as he felt your walls flutter around him, growling and shaking above you as he felt his balls pulse and signal his release. He came deep inside your pussy, his rhythm faltering the harder you squeezed him and pulled him in. He could feel you whimpering beneath him, and he smiled when you crossed your legs across his back to keep him inside you once he started to slow down. 

You weren’t sure how long you remained tangled in each other’s arms and when Chris tried to push off of you, you shook your head and begged him to stay.

“Not going anywhere baby...fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever cum this hard. You’re...something special Y/N.” Chris leaned down and kissed your lips, smiling against you when he felt your hold tighten around his neck. He parted and hissed when your cunt clenched around him once more, unable to hold back from chuckling at the sweet sensation. He slowly eased himself out and leaned back on his knees, watching as his cum leaked out of you and rolled down your thighs.

“Fucking hell.” Chris inhaled deeply before reaching down for his shirt to clean you up.

“Wait no you’ll get it dirty.”

“Who cares?” He shrugged as he softly cleaned his mess, apologizing when he became a little excited and rubbed harder than he should have. Throwing the shirt away, he pushed you to the side before rolling next to you, moving you into his arms and looking up at the ceiling as you drew patterns on his chest. 

“Did you know that in ancient times, the seven musical notes were assigned to the seven heavenly bodies in various symbolic arrangements? Kepler basically precisely calculated these long imagined Harmoniae Mundi...he noticed that the ratios between planets’ extreme angular velocities were all harmonic intervals. And more recently even, Molchanov has shown that the entire solar system can be viewed as a ‘tuned’ quantum structure, with Jupiter as the conductor of the orchestra.” You blinked up in confusion at Chris, eyebrows furrowing when he looked down and smiled at you.

“Sorry...I didn’t mean to ruin the moment.” He blushed under your gaze, scratching his hair when your confused expression turned into an amused one.

“No no, you didn’t. I like listening to you talk about things you’re passionate about. I’m just surprised because you’re suddenly talking about harmonies which has nothing to do with your area.” You rested your chin on his chest and watched as he laid his head back in thought.

“Well, I was really interested in our last conversation and I read up on some stuff and I found all of these theories that connect music and geometry and space and the planets playing in tune and- god you’re going to think I’m stupid.” Chris shut his eyes and rubbed at his face, hoping to somehow hide from you until you let it go. 

“No never...please, what were you going to say?”

“I wanted to impress you...so I thought I could learn about harmonics and rhythms and I found all of this stuff about Kepler’s theories on planetary orbits and how he found the answer through geometry and musical spheres and...what?” He saw the way you were looking at him and blinked shyly, hoping that you wouldn’t think he was a complete weirdo. 

“That might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for me.” Chris’ expression grew softer at your confession, shutting his eyes when you leaned over and kissed his cheeks. 

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Chris said as you pulled your head back to take a better look at him. What you saw in his eyes should have terrified you but instead, you felt your heart beat in comfort at his exclamation.

“So are you…” You nuzzled into his neck, twirling his hair around your fingers as you breathed his scent in and kissed his jaw. You were just about to doze off when a chime came from your phone. God, you knew the notification sound immediately, and you also knew who was emailing you so late in the afternoon.

“Oh god, I can’t check.” You shook your head and groaned when Chris leaned over and grabbed your phone. 

“Unlock it for me baby and I’ll check. I’m sure you did well.” He tried to put you at ease, kissing your forehead and whispering more assurances to you as you unlocked your phone and handed it to him. Scrolling through your apps, he found the Outlook app and clicked on it, opening the email from Dr. Daniels and reading through the email. You took in his face and cursed how well he was able to hide whatever emotion he was experiencing. 

“Well?”

“I think,” Chris said as he shut your phone off and placed it on the nightstand again, not giving you a chance to say anything as he rolled you underneath him and kissed your neck, “that we should forgo going out tonight, and stay in to celebrate. Properly celebrate your B+.” He laughed when you squealed and smashed your lips with his.

“Thank you thank you thank you, oh god I can’t believe I passed.”

“I knew you would sweetheart.” Chris fell back on the bed when you pushed him down, shutting his eyes and moaning in pleasure when you straddled him and left a trail of wet kisses down his scruff to his chest.

“Music and science aren’t the closest friends Chris...you can hardly blame me for not thinking I did well.” You whispered as you slowly pushed your hand between the two of you and took hold of his hardening dick.

“They might not be friends...but they are bedfellows...oh fuck.” You laughed at the remark, continuing your descent and kissing just above his happy trail. You smiled when you felt his hips buck against you, his fingers tightening their hold around your arms as you scratched his abdominal muscles. 

“In more ways than one obviously.”  

[olliedollie1204]

TSUS Day 7- Analoceit

Logan calls his roommates to a meeting.

Word Count: 2,454 words

Written for the Sanders Sides Unpopular Ships Challenge by @emy-loves-you

(AO3 Link)

Virgil shifted from one leg to another as he checked his phone for the third time in as many minutes. Janus was supposed to meet him here, but even in the five— six? Yeah, almost six— six years that they’d been roommates, he’d never gotten better at being places on time. Most of the time it was an intentional power move to assert dominance, but Virgil had told him once that he didn’t like it. Janus had never been intentionally late to meet him again.

On cue, the door swung open and Janus strode through, almost colliding with Virgil in the process. He stumbled clumsily, and on instinct Virgil caught him in his steadying grasp.

The two locked eyes, and after a moment Janus smirked.

“Hello, stranger.”

Virgil clicked his tongue in faux annoyance, but he couldn’t hide the earnestness behind his smile as the two of them righted themselves.

“Hey,” he replied. “Any idea what this is all about?”

“I assume he wants to practice his presentation again,” Janus commented idly, the two of them heading towards the private study room Logan had texted them to meet at.

“At the library, though? We never come here anymore.” That was true— while this library had been a hotspot for the three friends when they were undergrads, none of them had been in quite some time. Even Logan, who’d worked there from the time he was a teenager, hadn’t visited in years— it was much more convenient to do his research, studying, and grad work in the shared home office in the house they lived in together.

“Maybe he wants to use some of the projection equipment to rehearse or something,” Janus answered Virgil’s question. Virgil shook his head.

“I don’t even know why he gets so worried.”

Janus scoffed. “Glass houses.”

“I mean about presentations, Jan,” Virgil retorted. “Or like, school in general. He’s always incredible at...”

His voice trailed off; he’d been planning on ending that sentence with ‘school work’ or ‘graduate school’ or even ‘public speaking about niche ecological topics’, but he found he couldn’t find one in time. The words hung in the air.

A beat, and then Janus sighed with a smile in his voice. “Don’t I know it.”

The two looked at each other. The tips of their tongues were weighed down with words unsaid, and all too soon they reached the small study room Logan requested.

Janus was the first to break eye contact, rapping twice on the door before pushing it open.

“Knock knock!” he announced as he and Virgil entered. Just as expected, there was Logan at the back of the room, fiddling with the wall projector and a set of note cards. He looked up as the two entered, his face a bizarre combination of flushed and pale.

“Hello,” he said quickly before Virgil could ask if he was okay. “Please, take a seat.”

He gestured to the only two rolling chairs in the room. Virgil and Janus paused, side eyeing each other bemusedly, before taking a seat on the other side of the table.

“I do hope this was worth the bus fare,” Janus said lightly. His comment seemed to hit Logan, who flinched minutely before smoothing his face into a neutral expression.

“I wanted to speak with the two of you about something,” Logan continued, voice uncharacteristically tight, “and I thought it best to bring it up in a neutral, public environment should either of you want to leave.”

That… was not what either man expected. Janus kept his eyes trained on Logan’s face; next to him, Virgil subconsciously began bouncing his leg.

“Um,” he said. “Okay?”

Logan nodded. “Right.” He nodded again. “Well.”

Then he blinked, and leaning forward slightly, he murmured, “I need one of you to ask me why I invited you here.”

The tension broke a little, and Virgil huffed a quiet laugh that made Logan’s stance soften.

“Why did you invite us here, Logan?” Janus asked obligingly. Logan shook his head a bit and took a deep breath before looking down at his notecards.

“I invited you both here because this library has a lot of significance to me,” he read, eyes glued to the paper. “This is where I spent the majority of my undergraduate years, studying and working and passing the time with no real connections to the world around me. And… and this is where I first met the two of you.”

He looked up briefly, steeling himself, before turning his body toward Janus as he continued to read. “Janus, you were in the computer lab, swearing at a printer for taking too long to print your midterm.”

The man in question smirked at the memory. “I had a class in 15 minutes. Those things smell fear, you know.”

Logan turned his body toward Virgil, although his eyes remained trained on his note card. “And Virgil, you knocked over a book display I’d put up and pretended to only know French when I came up to help you.”

“I panicked!” Virgil squeaked in defense.

“And both of you came back the next week to work on a class project together,” Logan said with a significant air in his voice. His eyes flicked up again; unbeknownst to each other, both Virgil and Janus gave him matching encouraging smiles.

Logan felt the tension drain slightly from his body, and he couldn’t help but smile back as he continued, “For no reason at all, you two wandered back into this library— and back into my life— time and time again. We were strangers, then acquaintances, classmates, roommates. Friends.”

He paused, then, quieter: “Best friends.”

The silence only lasted a moment, but it was thick, heavy with meaning and intention. Neither Janus nor Virgil could even find it in themselves to make a snarky remark. By now Virgil’s leg had stopped bouncing, and he was watching Logan with an unconscious intensity. Conversely, it was now Janus’ turn to fidget in his seat, the growing sincerity in Logan’s voice making him clench the hem of his jacket between his fingers.

“I…” Logan started, looking between the two of them. He blinked and dropped his eyes back on his notecards.

“I… I am so grateful,” he said, “and so lucky to call you two my friends. You are the best friends, and the best people, I have ever known. And with this in mind, I was—”

He flipped to a new card, but his hands were shaking: he fumbled, and despite his best efforts the entire stack of notecards all went cascading from his hands to the floor.

“Oh, shit!” Virgil said reflexively, leaning forward in his chair in a feeble attempt to catch them. Janus was already on his feet.

“Allow me,” he said loudly, dropping to his knees to crawl under the table.

Logan’s eyes bulged. “No! No, Janus, wait—”

He, too, dropped to the floor, scrambling to pick up the cards closest to him. Janus knelt across from him, attempting to collect the cards on his side in a much calmer manner.

Above the table, Virgil swore again as he shimmied awkwardly from his seat to join them on the carpeted floor. “Jesus Christ, Lo, how many cards did you— ow! Fuck!”

“Are you okay?” Janus asked, twisting around in the small space to look at him.

“Yeah, fine, fuck, I just hit my head on the table—”

Logan’s face was an amusing mix of highly concerned and completely mortified. “Oh my God, Virgil, I’m sorry, let me help you—”

He shifted forward, but Virgil reared back on instinct, hitting the back of his head against the rolling chair. “Shit!

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

“Wait, wait, who’s on my jacket?” Janus said, yanking fruitlessly at the billowy fabric that was much better suited for walking in the brisk winter weather than crowding under a tiny table.

“I— I don’t know, I don’t know,” Logan babbled.

“Well, someone’s on my jacket, so get off!”

“Um. Lo?”

Logan looked over Janus’ head, and his stomach flipped as he realized that Virgil had successfully picked up one of the stray cards from the floor, and was reading it.

“Virgil, please,” he pleaded. “Please, just let me explain—”

“Seriously, whoever it is, move your hand off of my jacket, because I can’t move—”

Virgil lifted his hand, and Janus suddenly flopped forward at the lack of resistance, face planting directly into Logan’s chest.

“Janus!” Logan yelped. “Are you okay?”

The man in question spluttered, shoving himself away from Logan’s chest (and trying his hardest not to flush when he realized he’d placed his hands directly on Logan’s pecs to do so).

“That’s it!” he announced sharply. “Time out!”

Everyone stopped moving. Virgil on one side. Logan on the other. Janus stuck between them.

He exhaled, hard. “Okay. Take a deep breath.”

The other two followed his instructions on instinct. None of them counted aloud, but all three of them seemed to follow the same loose pattern of 4 seconds in, 7 seconds holding, and 8 seconds release.

“Okay,” Janus said when they were finished. “Let’s— let’s lie on the floor.”

If the energy weren’t so fucking weird at this moment, Janus would’ve laughed the baffled looks on the others’ faces. Instead he allowed himself to flop to the ground and clumsily roll onto his back. He folded his hands across his stomach and looked up at the others.

“Are you coming?”

Virgil and Logan shared a look. After a few seconds, they joined him. Virgil kicked one of the rolling chairs away to make room for his legs, while Logan tried to push as many of the cards to the side as possible.

Finally they were in place: just three grown men, chilling on the floor of a library study room, staring up at the dirty bottom of the table above them.

“...Reminds me of junior finals week,” Virgil commented idly. Janus snorted, and even Logan managed to give a shaky laugh.

“You spilled coffee on my lab results,” he remembered. “I cried.”

Virgil looked sheepish. “So did I.”

“I didn’t,” Janus reminded them. Logan laughed again, a little louder.

“No. You just emailed my professor on my behalf, told them I had mono, and asked for a week long extension.”

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?”

Virgil giggled loudly, not even bothering to hide the sound. “I forgot about that.”

“I didn’t,” Logan said softly. His words brought the other two into relative silence as well.

Then Virgil passed the note card to Logan. He took it, squinting to read its now slightly smudged writing, before his face went pale again.

“You read it,” he said. It wasn’t a question, but Virgil nodded.

After a few moments, Janus added, “Well, I didn’t, so…” His voice was jokingly impatient, but both Virgil and Logan could recognize the genuine curiosity in his eyes.

Eventually Logan sighed and passed the card to him. Janus held it close to his face to read it in the table’s dim shadow.

“Resources for telling friends and family about… about…”

He squinted for a moment more. “I’m so sorry, does that say ‘parallelogram replenishment’?”

Logan scoffed and reached over to whap his chest. “It says ‘polyamorous relationship’, you bastard, and I know you could read that.”

“Oh, could I now?” Janus replied lightly. He crumpled the note card and tossed it somewhere toward their feet. “Darn these old eyes of mine.”

Virgil snickered softly, then again. Logan sighed and bit his lip. Janus coughed.

And then the three of them burst into laughter— deep, loud, laughter, the kind that they couldn’t stop even if they’d wanted to. Logan rolled on his side as much as he could to face away from the others, Janus covered his face with both of his hands, and Virgil yanked the collar of his shirt over his mouth as if that could silence it.

It was honestly a blessing no one looked into the room; between the notecards all over the floor, the legs sticking out from underneath the table, and the near-screams of laughter seemingly coming from nowhere, it would probably be a surprising scene. Not that they’d care in the slightest.

After some indeterminate amount of time, the laughter tapered off. They weren’t sure exactly when or how it happened, but by the time they were silent again, Logan and Virgil were both lying on their sides facing inward. Janus had both arms out, and the two of them were using his upper arms as pillows.

“Logan,” Janus said softly. Logan looked up at his somber expression.

“Yes?”

Slowly, Janus let his eyes roam from Logan’s eyes to mouth and eyes again. Then he smirked.

“How many note cards were in your stack?”

Logan blinked. His face flushed immediately, especially when he saw Virgil lift his head to smirk at him as well.

“I— I don’t know the exact number.”

“Oh, well, that already means it’s in the high double digits,” Janus confirmed.

“And the projector, Lo?” Virgil asked with far too much glee in his voice. “Please tell me you had a powerpoint prepared.”

“With APA citations, I should hope.”

“Oh, yeah, of course, you gotta cite your sources, L.”

“And please, please tell me that you prepared a study guide for the readings you assigned us about healthy modern polyamory. Wouldn’t want to fail the quiz you’re inevitably giving us when we get home—”

“Enough,” Logan insisted, or maybe begged; it was hard to tell since he’d moved closer to hide his face in Janus’ shoulder. “Please do not mock me now. My heart can’t take anymore stress.”

Janus quirked his head. “What about this was stressful?”

Virgil giggled again, shoving his face into his hand to keep his laughter from building. When he pulled his hand away, there was a moment of hesitation in his eyes before he reached across Janus’ chest to take Logan’s hand.

Logan looked at Virgil’s fingers intertwined with his like he didn’t quite know what to do with them. Then, looking between Virgil’s eyes to Janus’, he slowly lowered their combined grip until their hands were laying in the middle of Janus’ chest.

Virgil and Janus both flushed, eyes darting towards each other and away again. Logan squeezed Virgil’s fingers, Virgil nuzzled into Janus’ neck, and Janus released a slow, shaky breath that seemed to remove some weight off of his shoulders.

“How long until they kick us out?” he joked weakly.

“I don’t care,” Logan and Virgil said in unison. They blinked, and the three devolved into quiet snickers once more, holding each other close.

For the rest of the afternoon, and the evening, and their lives, they did not let go.

[tintoki]

update: may 02, 2022

hi, i’m christine.

i’m 26 y/o, and i’ve grown a lot (i think).

i like being by myself and enjoy doing things solo, although it’s fun to do things with a special someone too from time to time.

i still like watching anime and listening to music. i still like being by myself.

i’m somehow still in school -_-. i graduated from undergrad, 2014-2018. did nursing pre-reqs for a year (2019), then worked as a cna/ caregiver in 2020, during the height of the covid-19 pandemic. after i found out i got into a nursing school, i’ve been in school since then (2020-2022).

i am close to graduating (anticipated graduation date: aug 2022).

i think i have grown a lot since starting nursing school, although there is still soooooo much to memorize and learn, lol.

right now, i realized the kind of nurse i want to be, but i also have a lot of stuff to work on in order to get there. that’s okay.

some nursing specialities i realized i’m interested in are: trauma (you never know what comes in through those doors), ed (emergency department), or (operating room), peds (kiddos ages 0-18). i’ve interviewed for an or internship that is straight to hire once graduated from nursing school....... we’ll see if i get it. results will be known today (i doubt i got it but i’m glad i tried for it !!). i thought i would end up doing psych, but i realize that nursing route is not the route for me.

i’ve made good friends in nursing school, but with this idea, it always comes with a tradeoff. i am still scared to open my heart to being truly good friends with them, and that’s okay (for now). being just friends is enough for me. i’ve made too many “good friends” in the past, and somehow they always just keep coming and going. i wonder when it will stop, but i don’t think it will ever stop. i guess i’ll just never know what it feels like to have that one friend who will finally stay.

right now, i’m working 2 jobs (one as a nurse extender, which is basically half cna and half nurse, and the other as a 1:1 caregiver for a very kind stroke patient who communicates with a word board). the nurse extender job is pretty cool !! i like being in the ed/triage. i’ve gotten to insert iv’s, drawn blood samples, hung primary fluids, secondary medications, gave im injection shots, performed ekgs, po meds, urine collection, talk to patients. all the while, i’m still in school. getting ahead with assignments and currently trying to finish this last essay. as of currently, i am also positive for covid-19 lol. symptoms are mild tho, just congestion and sore throat with a few body aches at first. right now, it’s just a stuffy nose and an annoying, phlegm-filled cough. getting better though, it’s been 5 days.

during clinical today, i felt very lonesome. actually, the whole day i felt very lonesome today. even though my friends are in the same clinical group with me, they still somehow made me feel alone today. then i remembered - ‘friends aren’t supposed to make you feel lonely when you’re with them.’ the relief i felt when i wasn’t next to them made me remember this. today just felt like... a day to be alone. in a way, it felt kind of nice. kind of quiet. comfortable. i drove home quietly too, my head left in a daze from the long afternoon. i realized the only fun thing i did today was look at or policies because the overall day was slow and boring. but looking at or stuff and different surgical instruments was actually quite interesting and fascinating, so i did not mind it since i was technically learning and reading.

when i got home today, i ate, did misc stuff, showered, and laid on my bed for about 10 mins just staring at the ceiling. it felt nice to just lay there, relaxed and in my head with my feelings. i had a quick thought to just not do any school work and just read a book i’ve been wanting to read. i shook the thought away. not yet, anyway.

i spent some time afterwards with myself.... something i haven’t done in a long time. it felt really nice to just watch dreamcatcher related stuff and listen to good music. i miss doing simplistic things by myself. i realized how important it is for me to stick to my roots rather than listen to what extroverted others want to do. i’m an introverted person at heart, anyway.

right now, i am trying to start and finish this stupid essay at 01:33. let’s see how far i get.

That’s pretty much all I wanted to say. I guess I just needed some space to think and write. As I continue along nursing school, I continue to realize how much the world is filled with so much sadness and hurt. I hope the hearts who are scarred out there somehow find its way towards love and healing.

[thadelightfulone]

All I Want... 25 Days of Christmas Challenge, Day 2

November 15-19th, Part 2

Erik Stevens’ office phone rang incessantly, even after he told his assistant to hold all calls. When it finally quieted down, he stood up to stretch the stiff muscles of his neck, shoulders and arms. He moved in front of the floor to ceiling window that makes up the back wall of his office. Taking a few deep breaths, he rubbed his temples when the cell phone in his jacket pocket started to ring.  

“T. Can I breathe? We have been working on this project all morning.” Silence greeted him on the other end. “Hello?”

“My bad. I figured you would be at lunch right about now. It’s after 3 over here.” The voice spoke. 

Erik looked at the contact on his phone and started laughing, “Damn man, I’m sorry. My cousins and I have been working on this project and -- let’s just say I am ready for a vacation.”

“It’s ok. I get it man. I have about 4 students preparing to defend their dissertations next month. I am nowhere near ready.” 

“That’s right, Dr. Oubre, preparing our future doctors of science and research. So, what’s up?” 

“Well, I just spoke with Dr. Giacomo and she said someone came around asking about you.”

“Really for what?”

“Yeah, I guess they came across one of your papers and decided to find you.” 

Erik rolled his eyes, “So, why would they go to her and not just reach out to me directly?”

“Look, I don’t know. I am just letting you know what was relayed to me, but I wanted to reach out to you before I gave out your information.”

“Bruh, give them my email and get off my phone.” Erik laughed at how silly Marquis was being. 

“Aye, you can never be too sure. I’m just looking out for you.” Marquis whispered into the phone.

Erik walked over to his desk and leaned against the edge, “Quis, man what is really going on?”

“I don’t want to send you another stalker.” Marquis sighed before laughing.

“HA, man. No one could have seen that shit coming.” Erik began to laugh as well. “I definitely lucked out when she graduated before us. Who knows how bad that could have gotten?”

“True, true.” Marquis cleared his throat, “By the way, Serena asked about you. She wants to know when you are bringing yo black ass back to Louisiana? You know to see us, your friends and extended family?”

“What else? I know she didn’t stop there.” Erik retorted. 

“Oh, the usual. Has he found anyone yet? When is he gonna settle down? Yada, yada, yada.” Marquis shot back. 

“Of course, she did.” Erik sighed out. “I definitely want to take some time off, so I can come and see you both, including my nieces and nephew. I just don’t know when that will be.” 

“Alright man, I understand. Look, I just wanted to give you a heads up about the contact. But I gotta run to class now.” Marquis rushed out.

“Yeah, I’ll hit you up later this week.” Erik said before hanging up. 

Setting his phone down on his desk, he closed his eyes. Arms crossed over his chest, he relaxed into the moment. Alternating between short and long breathes, he felt himself calming down from the morning and the call from his best friend and brother. 

They met in undergrad and were as thick as thieves instantly. You never saw one without the other anywhere on campus. And then, while they were in grad school Marquis met Serena, who would later become his wife. 

Laughing to himself, Erik recalled being jealous of what they had and continued to build together. It reminded him of his parents’ relationship and the love they had for one another. He rolled his eyes as his mind started to wander. Serena wasn’t the only one asking those kinds of questions lately.

Shaking those thoughts from his head, he decided to focus on the reason for Marquis’ call. Someone from Southern University was looking for him, that’s very interesting. He hadn’t thought of his alma mater much since returning home to Oakland, about 10 years ago. Outside of Marquis and his family, who he kept in touch with; he never needed to think about it. He had written plenty of papers due to his current research and his studies while he was working on his doctorate, so it does make sense. Well, whoever it is will be reaching out to him soon enough. 

---

It’s been three days since DeeDee learned that her mystery man was connected to a current faculty member on campus. She walked to his office and knocked on the open door. 

“Hey Dr. O.” DeeDee said to get his attention.

“Come in, DeeDee.” 

DeeDee walked into Dr. Marquis Oubre’s office and took a seat in front of his desk. She pulled out her notebook and set it down on her lap.

“So, how are things going?” Dr. Oubre asked as he walked over to the chair next to her. 

“They are going, but it could be better.” DeeDee answered as she fiddled with her fingers.

Marquis sat down and crossed his leg at the knee. “What’s bothering you, DeeDee?”

“I’m nervous about how all the interviews went. I mean they were all in September and October, and I have not heard anything.”

“What did I tell you when you left for the first one in San Diego?”

DeeDee sighed and rolled her eyes, “I will know if they are a great fit for me and not the other way around.”

“That’s right. Besides, you visited about 6 schools over a 2 month period. Those are on-campus interviews and that number is unheard of DeeDee.” Dr. Oubre looked at her, “I didn’t even get that many.”

“Really?” DeeDee looked at him in disbelief. 

Dr. Oubre discussed his entire experience of applying for a tenure-track position. DeeDee listened as much as she could manage, but in the back of her mind, all she could think about is the fact that her doctoral mentor knew her mystery man. She wanted to blurt it out when she first walked in, but it didn’t seem like the right thing to do. But now, she is reminded that the man can talk and couldn’t wait any longer. 

“Dr. O?” DeeDee interrupted his current train of thought.

“Yes?”

“Can I ask you about a former student?” She picked up the notebook, pulling out a printed out black and white newspaper clipping. DeeDee handed it to him.

He took it from her, looked at the image and laughed. “It’s you?” 

DeeDee looked at him in confusion. 

“You know people talk around here and I am friends with a lot of folks in Computer Science. Dr. Giacomo told me that someone was looking for Erik. I guess I just wasn’t thinking it would be you.” He continued to laugh. 

“Oh. Of course, she would.” DeeDee huffed out as she scooted further back into the chair.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh.” He reached for her notebook, “May I?” 

DeeDee handed him the notebook. Dr. Oubre pulled the ink pen from his dress shirt and wrote on the first blank page he found. He handed it back to her. 

“That’s his email. He said that he is fine with you asking him anything.” 

“Wait. What? He is expecting to hear from me?” DeeDee fumbled with the notebook when Dr. Oubre handed it over.

“Yes, he was surprised that you didn’t just search for him using the information on the article.”

DeeDee silently chastised herself, remembering what she told the other professor the other day. “About that, I didn’t even think of it. I saw Southern University and that was all she wrote.” She nervously laughs. 

“No problem. I’m sure he’ll be able to answer whatever questions you have.” Dr. Oubre stood up. “So, how’s your unnecessary prepwork going?” 

“It’s not unnecessary. I just want to be prepared, Dr. O.”

“DeeDee, you have been studying this stuff for the last 4 years. You know it and your 150 page dissertation shows that.” He moved around behind his desk, “They are only going to ask you about what is in there and what work you want to do with the information from this study.” 

“I understand that, but --” 

“Look, you have nothing to worry about. It is more a presentation then an actual defense. And I wouldn’t stress about the lack of response from those other universities about your interviews because I know you have applied to others. You got this.” 

DeeDee took a deep breath before responding, “You are right, Dr. O. I have applied to about 5 other places, but those were all in my top 2 tiers.”

“And about your upcoming defense?” 

“Right again. I know it like the back of my hand. So, I will try not to stress about it anymore.” DeeDee stood up and grabbed her things.

“Glad to hear it. Oh, by the way, you do know Dr. Bell is retiring at the end of the year?” 

“Yeah, they told all of us last week. Sounds like the annual department Christmas party will be her retirement party.” 

Dr. Oubre handed her a small flyer, “That’s right. Here’s your invitation. Hope to see you there.”

DeeDee looked down at it, “I’m there with bells on.” She laughed at her little joke.

“Nope, you gotta go.” He pointed at the door, while trying not to laugh. “I don’t think we need to meet next week, unless something comes up and you want to talk.”

“I agree.” DeeDee stopped at the door and held up the notebook, “And thanks again for this, Dr. O.” 

“You’re welcome, DeeDee.” He sat down and watched as DeeDee left his office. 

---

Sitting at her home office desk, DeeDee stared at the blank message box on her computer screen. The only thing typed out was Erik’s email address. She picked up her glass of water and took a sip. 

She spent the last hour looking up information on him. Found out that he’s back in Oakland and not even active in the science field anymore. He was the Director for one of the Wakanda Outreach Centers. It was fascinating what she read and found out about the work he was currently doing. 

And just like that, she was afraid to move forward. It should be simple. Send him an email about finding the little note in an old textbook. The end. He could do whatever he wanted with the information. But DeeDee’s mind was playing out possible scenarios like stuff she had seen in her favorite sappy romantic movies. And while the thought excited her, it also freaked her out at the same time. 

Things like that did not happen to women like her. Sure, she was kind of pretty and low maintenance, but most guys did not find her interesting enough to have a relationship with. And because of that she just didn’t try to pursue them, which is much different than what her friends believed about her. There was no message in a bottle type romance or love for her. So, why even bother?

She closed the email and decided to let the matter go. At least, she found out who wrote the note. Curiosity piqued and answered. Now, time to focus on her future and career.

Taglist: @teakturn @ghostfacekill-monger @shaekingshitup @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @woahitslucyylu @ladymac82 @bugngiz @eyeknowmywrites @ajspencer1892 @blackpinup22 @sarcastic-sunshines​

Let me know if you want to be added to the list.

[ipuckwithhockey]

Always in Your Corner- Boone Jenner

a/n: So i wrote a Boone fic. This is at least a 5 parter, and I have the next few parts written. Let me know what you think. I hope y’all enjoy it!

Summary: You were happily engaged to your perfect boyfriend when everything came tumbling down on you. The person you turned to just so happened to be your long time friend, Boone Jenner. The ever loyal Boone is there to help you get back on your feet. Little did you know, Boone had been pining after you for all these years, he’s just not sure if you’ll ever feel the same way about him.

Warnings: Cheating, Swearing, Anxiety if you squint, Sex, talk about sex and the use of protection

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

Boone met you years ago when you were doing a two semester internship with the Blue Jackets. Boone’s career had just started to take off and you were still in your undergrad. Although you were only at your internship a few days a week, you quickly got to know the guys on the team. Now, all these years later, you had a marketing job in Columbus and you were still friends with the boys.

You and Boone really hit it off all those years ago, and you’ve become close friends. However, no matter how many times your friends chirped the two of you about dating, neither of you ever crossed that line of friendship. You loved Boone, but just as a friend. And you knew he felt the same way about you. Or at least you thought he did.

Unbeknownst to you, Boone had been pining after you since the day you met. Back then you guys were just kids, and once he settled on the fact that you would never see him as anything more than a friend he tried to brush off his feelings as a small crush. After your internship ended you continued to hang out with the guys on the team. Boone had watched you go out with a number of different guys and for a while he thought he had grown out of his feelings for you. It wasn’t until Craig came around that he realized he was still very much in love with you.

Craig was now your fiancé of almost four months, and your boyfriend of three years.  He was going to law school while you were in PT school, and a mutual friend had set you up. He was the perfect guy. He was handsome and smart, and said all the right things. He was romantic and sweet... and good in bed. There really wasn’t a single thing wrong with him. You fell hard and fast, and it seemed like the first year of your relationship flew by. On your one year anniversary he asked you to move in with him. Then, this summer while you were on vacation with your family, he popped the question. You couldn’t have been happier.

Boone on the other hand was crushed. He knew that the reason he disliked Craig so much was because he really was perfect. It was always easy to pick out major flaws with the other guys you had gone out with, but even Boone had a hard time hating Craig. He was a nice guy who treated you right. Boone even thought that had Craig not been dating the love of his life, they would have actually been good friends. It’s not that Boone was rude to Craig, he was always friendly, and they had gotten to know each other pretty well, but he could never get over the fact that at the end of the night you were going home with a guy that wasn’t him.

Being the good friend that he was, Boone was always supportive of your relationship because he knew Craig made you happy. He wanted you to be happy, but that didn’t stop him from feeling sad for himself when you called to tell him you were engaged.

That was the end of July, and now it was November. The season had started and quickly picked up pace. The Jackets were doing well, but because of how busy you had been with work you hadn’t made it to a game in a while. The last time you saw Boone may have been their season opener. Between work and planning a wedding for the following year, you didn’t have much free time. Boone understood, and his busy schedule never made a social life easy anyway.  That’s why it was even more surprising to see you behind his front door that night. He was just cleaning up from dinner when he heard a knock. Thinking it was just a neighbor he quickly went to open it, but when he did he was greeted with you. You were still dressed in your work clothes and he assumed you had come straight from your work.

“Hey! I didn’t forget we made plans did I?”

You follow him in the door and take off your jacket as you head for his couch. “No, I just needed somewhere to think that wasn’t my house or work, and your place is about half way between the two so it seemed like a good option.”  You’ve barely even looked at Boone and the concentrated look on your face tells him there’s definitely something on your mind. When you got into your head like this you couldn’t be stopped. You just had to think it out on your own. But when Boone offered you some water, and you requested a glass of wine instead, he realized this was probably a little more serious than what color the bridesmaid dresses should be.

“So are you going to tell me what’s going on?” He hands you the wine glass and you just shake your head. You still needed to think some more before you were ready to talk. It wasn’t uncommon for you to go to Boone with your problems, you were close and he was someone you felt comfortable talking about anything with, but this was something that if you said it out loud it might just become real, and you weren’t sure if you were ready for that yet.

Nearly 20 minutes pass before you look over at Boone who was scrolling through his phone. He looks back at you and sets his phone down thinking you might be ready to talk, but instead you just turn away again.

Your glass of wine is long gone, and knowing that you have to get home you don’t ask for a second. It’s been almost an hour since you got to Boone’s and you still haven’t spoken a word since you greeted him. You’re not sure what to do at this point, so you think that leaving may be your best answer. You start to get up and walk towards his door, but he catches your arm as you round the corner of the couch.

“Woah woah woah. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine, but if there’s something serious going on you can talk to me. You know I’ll always be there for you.” This is the Boone you loved. The loyal to a fault, caring, Boone. The genuine concern he has in his eyes is what gets you. You swear he’s like a puppy, you just can’t say no to him.

You let out a big breath before looking back at him, “I think Craig cheated on me.”

It’s the first time you’ve set it aloud, and you can feel a sense of panic rush in.

Boone isn’t even sure he heard you right.

Cheated on you?

Craig?

What the fuck.

What Boone is sure of is that you wouldn’t just throw an accusation like that around without being pretty damn sure you were right.

“Wait. What? Why do you think he cheated on you?”

“Well, about a week ago I was doing laundry and I found a condom in his work pants.”

You say it so casually, and Boone isn’t really sure what the problem is, “Okay… Why does that mean he cheated on you?”

“Because I’m allergic to latex. And the condom I found wasn’t latex free. I know I sound kind of crazy but we’ve been together for three years and one, he would never buy a condom that was made with latex, and two, we rarely even use condoms…”

There are a few other reasons too, like the fact that you barely see each other. Between your two jobs you’ve been super busy the last couple of months. Craig was working crazy hours trying to make partner at his firm, and you had been brushing off his lack of interest in you for him being stressed at work. You also hadn’t had sex in nearly a month. The lack of conversation combined with the lull in your sex life didn’t seem like that big of a deal until that damn condom showed up, but when you saw it you knew.

While you’re talking about your sex life Boone is mentally trying not to puke at the thought of another man touching you. Not only that, but he’s boiling at the thought of a man treating you this way. He’s not here to be a jealous friendzoned idiot, he’s here because you’re in crisis, and he has to remind himself of that before he speaks again.

“Y/N, what are you going to say to him?”

This is another reason why you didn’t want to say anything before. You weren’t sure if you were even going to mention it to Craig. You were supposed to be getting married next year. He had just proposed in July. There was no way he didn’t love you. Right? He wouldn’t have asked you to marry him, just to turn around and cheat on you a couple months later. Right?

You’re afraid to look at Boone’s puppy dog eyes so you just keep looking at the floor when you finally reply, “I don’t know… I don’t know if I’m even going to say anything.”

Again, Boone is shocked by your words. He might be more shocked at this statement, than the actual news of Craig’s indiscretions.

“I’m sorry but the fuck do you mean you’re not going to say something? Y/N, if you’re so sure that he cheated on you why the fuck are you just going to let it go?”

He’s pissed, and you can tell. His boldness takes you by a bit of surprise but you’re quick to retort, “Boone, to be honest I shouldn’t have even mentioned it to you. This is between me and Craig. I don’t expect you to understand, but we’re ENGAGED. We’re getting married. He loves me, and I love him, and if he messed up once then maybe I just don’t need to know about it. Everybody makes mistakes.”

It’s like you know you’re lying to yourself in the moment, but the weight of the ring on your left hand is telling you to ignore that feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“How is this “between you and Craig” if you never even talk about it with him?? How can you just ignore this? This isn’t like you.”

“Well Boone, it’s really not up to you... It’s late. I should get home.” You turn and head for the door, and Boone doesn’t stop you. When he hears the door slam behind you he’s seething from knowing that the ‘perfect Craig’ cheated on you and that you were just going to let it go.

When you wake up the next morning Craig had already left for work, and you turn your phone on to find a text from Boone.

Booner: I’m sorry about last night, you know I just want you to be happy. Don’t forget I’m always be in your corner.  

You know he means what he says, but you can’t bring yourself to confront Craig. If you can’t do that then you know you can’t reply to Boone, not when deep down you know that he’s right.

——

It’s been almost two weeks since you opened Boone’s message, and you still hadn’t replied. He tried calling a couple times but you haven’t heard from him in days. Boone knew that eventually you would come to your senses, or at least he hoped that you would. Even if you didn’t end up with Boone, he knew you deserved to be with someone better than Craig.  Against everything else in your body something in you told you that you were going to make this work. You loved Craig. He loved you.

You left work early that day and when you got home you changed into a new lingerie set that had been collecting dust for weeks in your closet. When Craig got home you greeted him, and like any man, he was thrilled at the site of a woman in lace.

You thought that maybe sex would help bring some fire back into your relationship, but it didn’t work the way you thought it would. The sex was quick and when he finished he didn’t even bother getting you off. He just rolled off you and headed for the bathroom.

That night as you heard him snoring next to you, you laid awake knowing it was true. You couldn’t keep kidding yourself. He wasn’t the perfect guy you had met three years ago. You had to talk about this, and even then there was a part of you that hoped you would be able to work though this.

You’re not sure if you even slept that night, but you get up before he does and you decided that it was time. As you quietly get ready for the day you try to decide how you’ll bring it up.  How are you supposed to confront someone who cheated on you? They definitely didn’t teach this in your PT classes…

You decide to grab the condom in question from where you hid it in your bedside table, and you set it on a plate at the kitchen island. As you move around preparing your breakfast you hear him get out of the shower and you know he’ll be coming out any minute. When he eventually rounds the corner he’s dressed in a suit and is looking down at his phone. It’s not until a couple minutes later that he even sees the condom sitting, in all of its glory, on your kitchen island.

“Babe? Why is there a condom on our counter?”

You turn around to face him and look him right in the eyes. “I found it… I found it in the pocket of your pants two weeks ago.”

“Ok, It’s just a condom…” He’s a good lawyer and therefore a good liar, but you know this man like the back of your hand and you know you’ve got him caught. The feeling that washes over you doesn’t feel like victory, it feels more like defeat.

You sigh, “Craig. Please don’t make this any harder than it has to be. For both of our sakes, just be honest with me.”

His phone and briefcase have now been gently set on the island that separates the two of you and he lets out the secret he’s been keeping for longer than you expected.

“I umm.. I uh- I’ve been sleeping with Chelsea for a few months.”

A few months. That means three, right? You’ve only been engaged for four… Somehow you still hadn’t prepared yourself enough for what was unfolding in front of you. You thought maybe he had messed up, that he made a mistake one time. But no, he had been having a three month long affair with his fucking secretary. The secretary that congratulated you at your engagement party. The secretary that had gotten you beautiful engraved wine glasses as an engagement gift.  On any other day you may have even considered Chelsea a friend.

“Were you going to tell me? Or were you just going to let me walk down the aisle next year, knowing that you were going to go back into work a married man and fuck your secretary?”

The words you spit out were laced with hatred. The layers of bullshit that you had built up convincing yourself that he loved you had been quickly torn away. No longer were you looking at your relationship with rose colored glasses. He hasn’t even said anything back. The coward had the balls to cheat on you for months after your engagement but couldn’t even look you in the eyes when he got caught.

“Why the hell would you even ask me to marry you if you were just going to go cheat on me?”

There is silence in your kitchen until he surrenders an answer to you, “It just felt like the right thing to do… We’ve been together so long and everyone was asking when we were going to get married… and then I thought my bosses would probably like it if I was engaged since no one really makes partner unless they’re married… and I knew you wanted to get married. And I love you I really do. And we can make this wor-“

He’s the one panicking now and you can’t even believe he’s trying to salvage this right now. The perfect guy you once knew was long gone. It’s clear to you that your impending marriage was only a strategic move to influence his career.

You can’t listen to his bullshit any longer, so instead you just turn and walk back to your bedroom. He starts to follow you, but you close and lock the door behind you. You lean back and slide to the floor. Finally letting your emotions get the best of you, you let out choked sobs.

Eventually he leaves you and you hear the door to your apartment close behind him. As you cry you lay on the floor of the bedroom you shared with the man you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with. You don’t know how long you cry, and you’re not sure when you fall asleep either.

When you wake up your clock tells you that you’ve been on the floor for almost two hours. Your body feels numb and all you want to do is stay sprawled out on the carpet, but you know that the battle isn’t over yet. After you text your boss to let her know you’re sick, you get yourself up and start packing. You grab suitcases from the hall closet and start grabbing your clothes.

You get as much as you can in your car and before you know it the apartment you once shared is only half full. You’re actually surprised you packed so quickly, and that it all fit in your car. You leave your key and your ring on the kitchen counter, and you know you don’t need to leave a note explaining anything. He already knows it’s over.

Before you walk out the door, something catches your eye. Two wine glasses. They’re sitting on the bar cart you had bought Craig for Christmas last year. You don’t even think, and before you know it you’ve taken them and tossed them into the kitchen sink. They shatter on impact.

You didn’t bother with taking stuff like the dishes or furniture the two of you had bought together. The things you took with you were only yours. Clothes and items you owned before the two of you lived together. You took things like the pictures from your graduation, your favorite blanket, and the puck Boone had given to you after your last game as a CBJ intern.

Boone. You hadn’t even spoken to him since your argument… You didn’t have anywhere to go now, and Boone did say he was always in your corner, so you start the ignition and turn your car in the direction of his apartment.