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#i think i had midterms at the same time i was supposed to be finishing lost names for the fic contest so truly the writing process for it
suffarustuffaru · 1 month
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Out of all the fanfiction you've ever written which one is your favorite
ooh good question anon :o mwuahaha probably self-l - *gets shot*
but anyway jokes aside i thinkkk my favorite fic out of the ones ive written probably changes to be like. the most recent one usually, just bc thats like what i wrote in the present and i usually try to really look over my writing before i post HAH.
but i do like a good number of my fics in different ways - im super fond of every collab ive ever done, they were super fun and i love working with pals, i also think ashes ashes (that one pride if subaru fic i made about his first 82 ish loops) was an important milestone for me bc it was the first time i wrote That much and really tried to extrapolate stuff from rezero canon so it's a big accomplishment for me!! kite academy also took a looot of work and juggling different stuff and it May be only one ch1 finished but its a really great piecee of work - and genuinely fics like self love i spent a looot of time on doing research and trying to figure out how to write. Everything. in it for my parts of it (you dont wanna know the heinous things i researched while writing that LMFAO). also genuinely people tell me they still like a lot of my older stuff too which always warms my heart.
i think my current top favorite would probably be Natsuki Subaru and the Tale of the Lost Names though :> it is like. 32k words of pure chaos with one of my favorite richard siken poems in it as like an excerpt and it was really Really hard to write for a variety of reasons and bc there was so many different things to tackle and handle with actual nuance but the end result i feel is pretty complex with a lot to look into!! i heard a lot of feedback on that fic bc i turned it in for a fic contest so a bunch of different people gave their thoughts on it so!! i thiiiink it got the intended effect i wanted :3 i remember rereading it a few weeks ago with a fresh mind bc i havent looked at it in so long and i was like GODDAMN HOW THE HELL DID I DO ALL OF THAT - bc its superrr funny to me most of my writing process was the messiest notes ever paired with me writing about 10k or so words in a whole week while high on dr. pepper specifically <3
also ig shoutout to hot potatoes. its my most popular fic still (i totally get it, its an rbd reveal fic HAH) but also like it's spread through my friends in this fandom like a virus. same with self love. except self love was like mostly my fault but like one of the funniest things thats happened to me in this fandom was definitely MULTIPLE MUTUALS QUOTING MY OWN FICS BACK AT ME...... this is like the stop posting about amogus rezero meme video all over again (i say this with love). but other than that i do appreciate how much people seem to like hot potatoes and a lot of my other fics!! and i definitely really enjoy the art my cowriters have made with our collabs <3
and shoutout to satellite. one of my proudest achievements (writing emilia content that i Like <3).
thanks for the ask anon hope you didnt mind my yapping :3
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churipu · 5 months
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hii i hope ur midterms r going well !! ive binge read so many of ur work n js wanted to say theyre so amazing (´꒳`) i wanted a request for toji + any other character of ur choice x reader who stays up late n has difficulty sleeping (fluff),, thank u !! 🤍
𝗜𝗧'𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗥𝗘𝗘 𝗔𝗠 !
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────── 𝕴 . featuring. toji fushiguro x reader
────── 𝕴 . warnings. cursing, and mentions of toji being soft, i love him.
note. hi nonnie! thank you so much, you're too nice to me, and yes, my midterms went well! it's been so long since i've done the requests in my inbox, which is the sole reason to why i have closed my ask box so i could finish them all! although, the next time i open them, i won't accept requests for a bit. sorry for those who have visited my inbox and have waited for a long time for your piece to be done. // anyways, new theme = new layout!
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"why aren't you in bed?"
toji's voice came out hoarse — he cleared his throat and approached you, sitting himself on the couch despite his heart caressing his ears, pleading for him to go back inside the bedroom and just lay back down on the bed.
the cotton surface of the couch dipped just as he practically threw himself down on it, holding back a loud yawn. you raised a brow, shoving the spoonful of cereal you mixed with milk five minutes ago, just before toji emerged from your shared room.
small yellow chips of cereal that had grown soggy, seeping in the white tasteless liquid dispersed into a mush inside your mouth. they weren't even solid as they're supposed to be, "can't sleep, you?"
"you weren't there."
old habits die hard. that's how the saying goes, and you undeniably agreed to that. the night is an old friend to you, never did your eyelids felt heavy when you were supposed to be in bed, asleep. it's not healthy, you're killing yourself doing this.
"you're such a baby," you mutter out, staring into space, feeling your eyes slowly dissociate — jaw moving in a slow motion, biting into wet and mush before you swallow them.
"y/n, it's three am, y' can't keep doing this stuff," toji scratches his nape, leaning his head back onto the couch rest.
despite your eyes staring into nothing, you could hear his words pretty well. in fact, toji had repeated the same words countless of times that you found yourself engraving it into your mind, "i know, i can't sleep. i know it's not healthy, if i could stop it, i would."
"you're scooping nothing, y/n."
this time, his statement pulled you back into reality. looking down to see that you were indeed scooping no soggy cereal chip, nor a drop of milk onto your spoon. chuckling out lightly, you stood up and sauntered over to the kitchen, dumping what was left of your cereal pieces into the sink.
"you should go to bed," you tell him, wiping your wet hands onto your shirt — crumpling up the fabric to soak them in the access waterdrops lacing your fingers, "'ts late."
toji scoffs lightly, "shouldn't i be saying that shit to you?"
no mistakes there. you emitted out a soft sigh, "i'm fine, i'll be back in bed in a few . . ." toji raises a brow skeptically. he never forgot the last time you said that, he woke up alone on the bed — and you were wide awake on the couch, watching the morning news.
"hell no. it's two of us or nobody goes back to bed, 'm not kidding." he mutters out, not realizing how harsh his voice came out as.
brows furrowed deeply, he looks at you. your disheveled (h/c) hair going all point in a compass points, the visible dark shade of exhaustion coloring under your eyes — and the light creases on the corner of your beautiful, tired eyes.
"can you not?" you mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose; honestly, you can't blame him at all, he's just a worried boyfriend and you were being stubborn.
"can i not what? worry about my own—" he stops mid sentence and shakes his head. toji was never a man of words, he doesn't express his affection to you through words. he's had moments, not a lot, but he's had them.
toji's a man of actions. he thinks that words mean nothing, which you knew, "'m tired, but i can't sleep, okay? i'll just hang out here a few more minutes and i'll come back to bed. you don't have to stay awake just because 'm awake."
"just shut up."
you stare at him, surprised. parting your lips, you try to speak again but toji beats you to it.
"can't i worry about you or something? you're my partner," he said, his then exhausted eyes now fully refreshed. a tinge of frustration coloring his greenish iris.
your eyes darted around for a bit, searching for words to spout out as a reply, "you don't have to worry about me, 'm fine. i promise. so, can you please just go to bed and stop worrying about me?"
"fuck that," he stands up, with heavy footsteps he darted towards you.
his figure grew in your view as he closes the distance between you and him. with a quick motion, he threw you over his shoulder, letting you dangle over his shoulder. at this point, you were too exhausted to even move a limb so you just laid there, not having the cell to even open your mouth.
toji walks over to the bedroom and he sat you down gently on the bed. on most occasions, he would throw you onto the bed playfully — but this was serious. he's pissed, and you're pissed.
"sleep."
you crane your neck upwards, face scrunching into one of annoyance, "i just told you that i can't—"
"try."
shaking your head, you said, "i can't, i've tried."
his finger brushed over your hair, smoothing them back down. he didn't reply to you. frankly, he finds it hard to be in the current position — as a kid, he was taught to never show his weakness. he grew up in a household full of so much hate that he forgot what love is.
here you were. vulnerable, in a weak state that toji has seen a lot before throughout your relationship. if this was anyone else, toji swore he'd tell them to suck it up because life isn't always what they think it ought to be.
but this isn't anyone else, it's you. y/n. the only person toji has showed his own vulnerable sides to — it's like a punch to his gut when he saw a bit of his younger self in you. he had nobody, and nobody had him.
it's different this time, it's not about him anymore. it's about you. you had him, and he had you.
toji inhaled sharply, his large hands slipping underneath your pits as he gently pushes you up. your feet dangled as he then pulled you into him, his right hand traveled onto the hollow of your back — and his left hand prepped your legs around his torso.
you felt like a child, "what're you doing?"
"shut up," he mutters out into the crook of your neck, "just try to get some sleep."
he pressed his lips onto your skin tenderly, making you shudder at the sudden contact — but you liked it. toji didn't stop, with an arm around your waist, and another under your thighs, he held you close to him.
warm and shallow breaths blew onto your skin like warm lights, it didn't tickle, you bury your head into the crook of his neck. copying his actions, "'m sorry."
toji grunted, "for?"
"just . . . everything," you murmur out.
his grip around your waist tightened, "'ts not somethin' to be sorry of, you can't control it. so just try and get some sleep," he muttered out, rocking side to side gently.
a faint smile appeared on your lips as you pulled your head back slightly, "you're too nice to me."
"don't get used to it," toji rolled his eyes.
"i love you too," you planted a kiss onto his lips briefly before returning your head into the crook of his neck, letting him lull you to sleep for the night.
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© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE.
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livlaughloveluke · 10 months
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𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐲- 𝐞.𝐥
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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: ethan’s mysterious sickness leads to an unexpected confession
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: sickness, pills (advil)
𝐚/𝐧: was kinda rushed and also tumblr was acting up when i was trying to write this, but i hope you enjoy!
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ethan woke up to a sudden feeling of nausea, and a headache that pounded relentlessly. you and him were supposed to go study in the library later that afternoon, but there’s no way he would get anything done in this condition.
he managed to lift himself out of bed, feeling extremely weak. he trudged to the bathroom, every step seeming to add exhaustion to his already tired self.
he arrived, and lazily opened a cabinet to grab the thermometer and some advil. he reached to the back where the medicine usually was, only to find nothing. he looked around, searching for something that would bring relief, however nothing was there.
in the meantime, he grabbed the thermometer and stuck it under his tounge. he waited patiently, as the numbers kept going up. 
103 degrees fahrenheit. a decent fever, and if he didn’t take medicine soon, it might go up. he exited the bathroom, hoping to find chad. 
ethan was too sick to go out, so chad would have to pick up some advil for him.
unfortunately, chad was nowhere to be found. ethan pulled his phone off the charger to call him. he clicked on chads contact, and waited as the phone ringed.
chad picked up shortly. ethan was more of a texter, so he knew something must have been wrong. before chad could mutter a word, ethan began talking.
“hey man, have you seen the advil?” ethan grumbled, sounding sickly and sleepy. 
“i just finished off last week. midterms had me stressed, man. it should be on the grocery list. are you sick?” chad responded. ethan looked, and it was in-fact on the shopping list, next to the goldfish. 
“yeah i feel like shit and have a fever. where are you?” ethan asked, hoping chad was near, and could run by the pharmacy and pick some up. 
“dude, i told you this last week. me and mindy drove up north to visit some family this weekend. im sure y/n would gladly pick some up for you, though.” chad replied, and ethan could sense his smile through the screen. ethan thanked chad, before hanging up. 
you and ethan were good friends, although he wished you were more. he was talking to chad one night, when he accidentally let it slip that he had a huge crush on you.
chad, being the blabbermouth he is, immediately told tara. when tara found out about ethans crush, she almost overflowed with joy. she knew the feelings were reciprocated, as you talked about him all the time. ever since that night, tara and chad had been trying to get you together. 
however, every time tara mentioned you asking ethan out, you shut her down. you told her that he probably didn’t feel same, and that you valued your friendship with him to much to ruin it. tara fought the urge to tell you about what chad had said, but she promised she wouldn’t say anything, so she kept her mouth shut. 
ethan felt bad, but he knew he had to text you. you were curled up on the couch, watching netflix, when a notification popped up on your phone. 
ethan 🪼
hey! im think im sick, 
so im going to have to cancel 
on our study sesh :(
you read his message, and your heart filled with worry.
you 
im sorry you don’t feel good,
eth.
do you need anything?
ethan 🪼
actually if you don’t mind, 
could you pick me up 
sone advil? we ran out and 
i was supposed to go the 
grocery store today.
you
of course
send me your grocery list and I’ll pick everything up 4 you
ethan 🪼
you really don’t have 
to do that y/n 
you
seriously, it’s nothing. plus, i was at your dorm yesterday and there was literally no food
ethan 🪼
thank you so much
*one image attached*
you rush and throw on some baggy grey sweatpants, pairing it with a navy blue sweatshirt that drapes over one shoulder. you throw your uggs on, and rush out the door. you try your best to be as quick as possible, knowing of ethan’s poor condition. 
the grocery list was filled with mainly junk food, so you decide to buy some fruits for the roommates. you also buy ingredients for your homemade chicken noodle soup, hoping it will help with his health. 
you pay and head to his dorm, while you stress over his condition the whole ride. you park your car in the parking garage, and carry the several bags of groceries up to his floor. ethan had given you a spare key a couple weeks ago, so you fumbled with your keychain until you found it and unlocked the door.
the door flung open, and you found ethan on the couch, looking like a zombie. a show played quietly on the tv in the background. you rush to the chaotic kitchen, and set the items down on the counter. you fish around in the bags, looking for the meds. you found the bottle of pills, and set them down beside the groceries. you open the cabinet and find a large water bottle, and fill it up to the brim
you take the water and the advil over to him, placing it on the coffee table. he’s half asleep, so you shake him a little, so he is aware of your presence. 
“hey. take your medicine, and make sure to drink some water. i’ll clean up around here.” you whisper to him quietly.
he groans in response and swallows the pills, before laying back down on the couch. you head back to the kitchen, and start putting away groceries and cleaning up his previous messes. you wipe every surface down, until everything is completely spotless.
then, you move onto his room. you rip the sheets off his bed so you could wash them, and grab the spare ones from his closet. you neatly make his bed, and fluff up the pillows. besides his bed, almost everything else was put away and it looked nice. you disinfected his table and all of the door knobs, then went back to the living room.
you shook him a little again, waking him up, and you led him to his bedroom. he immediately plopped down on his bed, chasing sleep. you grabbed his phone and the water bottle from the other room, and placed them on his nightstand for when he woke up. 
you then went to clean up the living room, which surprisingly wasn’t that messy, besides a few pillows and blankets scattered across the floor. 
it was around one pm, so you started making lunch, and it would probably be dinner, too.
you poured the chicken stock into a pot, and then placed it on the stove, heating it up.
you swiftly dice some vegetables, and throw them into the pot, along with some shredded chicken. you seasoned it to perfection, and then added the uncooked pasta once it was boiling. 
while it was cooking, you cleaned up the mess you had just made, and did the dishes. it was weird how easily and efficiently you tightened up his apartment. normally you would dread doing these chores, but since it was for ethan, you didn’t mind. 
you turned down the heat once the noodles were fully cooked, and tasted your delicious creation. just on time, ethan woke up from his nap and entered the kitchen. he looked a lot better now, not nearly as delirious. 
“seriously y/n, you didn’t have to do any of this.“ he says, yawning a little.
“like i said, it was nothing. are you feeling any better?” you respond back, now ladling the soup into a bowl for him. 
“a little. thank you, really.” ethan said. you handed him his lunch, while reassuring him that it was no big deal.
you made your own portion, making sure to turn off the stove once you were done. you took your bowl and sat next to him at the table. 
“wait, i might get you sick.” ethan warns. 
“we’ve spent every day for the past week together. if it’s contagious, i probably would have gotten it by now. also, i don’t mind getting sick if it means i can spend this time with you.” you respond, looking at his gorgeous coffee brown eyes. you needed to tell him how you felt.
“ethan, i care about you so, so much. way more than a normal friend should.” you say to him, but he just tilts his head in confusion. 
“what im trying to say is that i really like you. i want to be more than friends. i know you haven’t dated anyone before, and i’m perfectly okay with taking it slow. if you don’t feel the same way, please just tell me now.” you confess to him. now it was ethans turn to spill his guts.
“i’ve liked you since the day we met in econ, y/n. i want to be with you, no matter what happens. would you wanna go out sometime, officially?” 
“more than anything.” you say, a smile now plastered on your face.
ethan drags you back to his bedroom so he can take another nap, and you decide to read. you sit crisscross on his bed, back leaning on the bed frame. he cuddled up to you, laying his head in your lap. a couple minutes later, he was fast asleep. you pull out your phone to snap a photo, them text tara. 
you
turns out you were right
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shesmymorphine · 1 year
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study date.
abby anderson x fem!reader
content includes: modern day!abby, abby being a horny slut, established relationship, fingering (r!receiving), abby being kinda mean if u squint, pet names, uhh… that’s it i think? idk what else it’s 3 am and i’m h word. this was sitting in my notes app for a while so i decided to finish it up here <3
NSFW UNDER THE CUT MINORS DNI 18+!!!
——————————————————
“a… abby!” you moan softly, shutting your eyes as she rubs slow, languid circles over your soaked, albeit clothed clit.
“shh, baby. don’t want your dad to hear us, do you?” she asks into your ear, moving one of her large hands to grope at one of your soft tits.
this only makes you arch your back off of her chest, and your jaw falls slack, and all you can do is shake your head.
you were supposed to be studying, after all. midterms were coming up, and both of you had decided on a study date. it was abby who started it. placing gentle kisses to your neck and trailing her fingers against the insides of your thighs while you tried to study your flash cards.
and now, you were here.
“‘m sorry.. just feels so good.” you mumble weakly, and she nods, planting a sweet kiss to your temple.
“i know, baby, i know. just try and stay quiet for me, yeah?” she says, voice dripping with honey.
you nod your head again, letting your head fall back against your girlfriends broad shoulder as she finally dips her hand inside your panties.
you let out a shaky breath when her large fingers ghost over your bare, swollen bead, and you can’t help but arch your back in response, biting down hard on your lower lip to stop yourself from moaning.
Abby nods her head, continuing to make those same, slow torturous circles against your clit.
“good girl. stay quiet and i’ll let you cum.” Abby says softly, and you nod, only letting out yet another shaky breath.
but it’s an empty promise on her end. she knows you won’t be able to keep quiet, and she knows you won’t be able to last.
she then moves her hand even lower, carefully dipping her digits inside your soaked slit. she runs the pads of her fingertips along your swollen, slicked folds, before she plunges one inside of you…. then two.
She watches you intently. Watches how your eyes clench shut even harder, and how your cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink. you can’t help but let out a barely audible broken sob as she curls her fingers upwards inside your needy cunt.
Abby moves to plant a slow, wet kiss to your jaw, and she continues to slowly pump her digits inside you, ghosting over that same sweet spot inside your gummy walls.
the obscene squelch your cunt makes each time she pushes in and out of you is enough to make her own pussy throb, and she can’t help but hum softly into your skin.
“doing so good, baby. taking me so well.” she mumbles into your skin, and you let out a quiet, sickeningly sweet moan of her name.
It nearly breaks her, really. It drives her up a wall. She wishes you could be louder for her, but she can’t run the risk of getting caught by your parents with her hand shoved down your panties.
you then look down to see the sight below you, stomach fluttering when you see her forearm muscles flexing each time she curls her fingers inside you.
the slick from your clit is connected to her palm, and the sight sends a delicious wave of heat from your chest down to your cunt, and you clench around her. suddenly, your struggle to keep quiet becomes that much harder.
it feels so good. all you can do is bite your lip as she keeps on finger fucking you, her thick digits slowly pumping in and out of your slicked entrance. it’s almost cruel just how good she could make you feel. it’s merciless, really.
it’s when she brings her free hand to gently rub at your budded clit that your jaw falls open even wider, and you almost instinctively arch your back off of her chest, moving one of your free hands to entangle in her hair, thus tousling her blonde locks from her braid.
your eyes begin to water as you try your hardest to not let any noise slip out from in between your lips, and abby nods, curling her fingers even harder up inside your cunt, almost as if she’s egging you on. almost as if to say “make a noise. i dare you.”
the sheer pleasure that careens over your body is enough to send both of you into overdrive, and you can feel her start to hump against the rough, tight fabric of her jeans from behind you. the warmth of her body, combined with her skilled fingers gracing your g spot and swollen clit all becomes too much.
abby breathes heavily down your neck, yet she doesn’t even realize it. she’s too busy keeping you and herself occupied, continuously grinding her achy cunt against her jeans. but the look of pure ecstasy on your face is more than enough to keep her going. but she, unlike you, knows how to conceal her moans, and when you feel her let out a slight grunt against the back of your neck, the sensation reverberates throughout your entire body.
despite not being able to see it, abby can feel the globs of your creamy white arousal coating her fingers as she picks up her pace. she loves it. she absolutely relishes in it. you’re trying so hard not to make a mess out of yourself, but in her eyes, you already had. it was only a matter of time before you let a soft moan slip from the confines of your mouth.
you let a few stray tears coat your cheeks, before you shake your head, letting out a few meek, incoherent babbles. that coil in your abdomen was about to break, and you were so close to getting the much needed release of your orgasm.
“ab… abby, please, can’t do it.” you plead, and her eyes widen.
just when you think she’ll let you cum, she pulls her hands away from your sore, weeping cunt, and you let out a broken moan, not caring about who hears you anymore. your poor hole clenches around absolutely nothing as you writhe against her, slowly rolling your hips up into the cool air.
it really was cruel. but she gave you her word.
she then ever so lightly drags her fingers along your puffy folds, purposely avoiding your clit, all while shaking her head to feign disappointment. you desperately buck your hips up to find her fingers, only to have her pull them away once you do.
“then i guess you don’t get to cum tonight, doll.” abby chides, in an almost smug tone, and it’s almost enough to make you want to cry. but she knows just as well as you do that she’ll let you get what you want tonight.
abby places a light slap against your pussy, which makes you moan and twitch against her, all different kinds of newfound pleasure coursing through your body.
the sight of that alone nearly breaks her, and it was at that point that she’d lost all of her previous inhibitions.
without warning, she plunges her fingers back inside of your arousal slicked cunt, and you let out a loud moan of her name. it rolls so perfectly off of your tongue, and abby can’t get enough of it.
“yes… oh, fuck… right.. right there!” you squeal when she presses up against that spongy part inside of you again, and your legs begin to shake. that familiar coil in your belly breaks, and that white hot pleasure falls down on you in an instant.
“atta girl. there you go, baby. cum on my fingers like the good girl you are.” she coos, and it comes out absolutely breathless.
her voice makes your brain go numb, and you couldn’t control the noises you were making even if you tried.
abby watches pridefully, still desperately chasing after her own orgasm as she grinds her swollen clit against the tautness of her jeans. the sight of you in this moment is downright sinful. debaucherous, even; and yet, she swears that the noises that fall from your lips could only be made by an angel.
you can feel everything about her. you can feel the way abby’s warm chest rises and falls beneath you, her hair gently brushing against your arm; and with the way she curls her digits up against that sweet spot inside you as she fucks you through your orgasm, it all makes you feel like she was crafted by the gods just for you.
you’re clenching around her fingers so deliciously, and she was so far gone by that point that she really couldn’t help but let her own orgasm befall her, too. she lets out low, yet desperate grunts against your flushed skin, rocking her hips against your back with the same voracity that you are.
once that high dissipates for the both of you, she plants a sweet kiss to your temple, and you let out a breathless laugh, still trying to regain some parts of your consciousness.
abby laughs, too. she slowly pulls her fingers away from your slit, before gently shoving them inside your mouth. you suck obediently, letting your eyes flutter shut as the sour taste of your arousal coats your tongue.
abby lets out a soft moan at the feeling, before she pulls away from you completely, and her face is now flushed red. the embarrassment of having to face your parents after this was just now hitting her.
but you couldn’t have been happier.
you cup her face and pull her into a sweet, yet slow kiss, and she moans into your lips, gently grinding her hips against the fabric of her pants again.
you keep your lips locked on hers for a little longer, just taking in the saccharine essence that is her spit. you giggle when you pull away, looking at her with such a love drunk expression, with her returning an equally adoring gaze. her chest heaves slightly, and her lips are wet, lightly parted, and her face is still flushed from the impact of her own orgasm a few moments ago. her hair is messy, little strands harshly pulled out from her braid from when you clutched at it a few moments ago; but the light from behind her casts a seemingly pearlescent halo above her head.
you swear you’d never seen someone more beautiful in your life.
“good luck explaining that one to your parents..” she sighs as she wraps her strong arms around you, pressing her forehead up against yours. you then shove her away with a laugh, your heart still racing against your chest.
so much for a study date.
(i can’t do it i need her so bad)
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yuriririnnie · 10 months
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Is it love?
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A/N: It’s literally 1:51 in the morning and I’m supposed to be studying my last few topics on Tax Law. I really should be focusing, but sometimes don’t you hate it when you have this idea in your head that you just need to let out otherwise you’ll go insane? Yup. So that’s today for me.
PAIRING | Park Jongseong (Jay) x reader
WC | 2.8k (wth Alice?!)
GENRE | angst, fluff
WARNINGS | mentions of drinking, explicit language, mentions of sex and pre-marital cohabitation 
SYNOPSIS | When you first met, he didn’t believe it was love. When you fight for the first time though, that’s when it hit him.
Maybe it was the alcohol that’s making your head throb so incredibly hard right now but you were sure that it wasn’t this painful when you came in here. You were having the worst week of your law school life because of upcoming midterm examinations, terrifying judges as professors, and mock trials so you actually allowed your friends to pull you out of your dorm, go to a bar, and loosen up. 
At least, that was the plan. 
“Why are you being so uptight even until now?” your best friend asks before sipping on her drink which mind you, was the exact same drink that made your head ache so bad tonight. God has it been a while since you went out. 
Trying not to throw up you say, “How are you guys holding your alcohol so well? We’ve been here for three hours.” 
“You just haven’t been drinking that’s all.” 
“I shouldn’t even be drinking tonight anyway. I’m swamped with things I’ve yet to read.”
She scoffed, ordered another drink for you, and left to go to the dance floor with some unknown guy you’ve seen around campus. 
Leaning onto the bar, you stared at your drink, hoping it would finish itself. 
“It’s not going to finish itself.” Did you just hear your thoughts out loud? You looked up to search for the unfamiliar voice.
And there he was. Tall, slender, platinum hair that’s carefully pushed back further accentuating his jawline that’s sure to be able to cut through paper with how freaking sharp it was. His features were extremely strong. He had fierce eyes, tall nose bridge, and a smirk that carefully crossed his thinly-lined lips. 
He sat next to you without making eye contact and gestured to the bar tender indicating that he was probably a regular around here.
Realizing that you were seconds too late in replying, you shook your head and muttered, “I’m not rushing. I’m here with my friends.”
“I take it you didn’t want to come in the first place.”
“Is it that obvious?”
He let out a small laugh at your response and you could have sworn that it was the most handsome laugh you have ever heard in your life. 
“I’m Jay.” he offered his hand, which you shook, of course. You weren’t a fan of talking to strangers but he was just that inviting. No bias, but he was so gorgeous you just couldn’t ignore him! You wanted to be careful, but you’re not crazy.
“I’m Y/N. You from campus?”
“Yeah. I’m taking the 2-year MBA program,” he took a sip, “and you studying fashion or…?” 
“God no. I could never.” you nearly spat your drink hearing his assumption, but flattered nonetheless, “second year, JD.” 
“Yikes, there’s no wonder you looked like you didn’t want to be here.” 
You scoffed, “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, of course, I didn’t first think you were in law. You look way too pretty to be someone who’s swarmed with school work.” 
“Is that your way of talking into picking girls up at bars?” 
He put his drink down to face you. This time, the smugness on his face disappeared and was replaced with a slight pink on his cheeks. He was flustered, and you made him lose his cool. Even you surprised yourself. You just didn’t know you had it in you to flirt tonight.
“Believe it or not, I don’t normally talk to girls around here.” 
It was your turn to laugh, “Is that so?” 
“Yeah. I’m not like other guys.”
“That is such an other guy thing to say!” 
The conversation went on for about an hour and you didn’t even notice how many drinks you were both having. The topics went on from school, to work, to friends, and to plans after school, and finally came to the part where he asked you out. You were hesitant at first (or at least you pretended to be hesitant), and thought that maybe this was just going to be a one time thing. He was kind and smart, but he did look like your typical college fuckboy after all. However, it’s been a while since you actually went out on a proper date and he seemed like there was more to him than just his appearance. 
“Sure.” you say, offering your last cheers for the night. 
“You said you were having a study group session, not a one-on-one with someone you obviously know has the hots for you.”
You can’t believe you were having this conversation just five months after meeting your boyfriend at the bar. Fighting was never a common thing between you two because you rarely even had the time to argue about anything. Jay was patient, loving, caring, and often just supported you and your decision to work and study. He offered to have you quit your job and just move in with him but you always thought that it was way too early into your relationship to accept the idea of living together. However, you did sleep over a lot considering he lived alone. 
Tonight you were scheduled to sleep over once again because it was just convenient. He lived much closer to campus and had a car. His program wasn’t as heavy as yours so he had the time to pick you up and send you to work and school. Everything was just peachy until this happened. 
Taking a deep breath you responded, “Jake is just a classmate, and we got partnered up to form a legal opinion together. It takes a lot of time Jay, and I didn’t know that the others would finish up much earlier than us. It’s no big deal, it was only a few hours.”
“I bet he purposely slowed things down to spend more time with you that’s all.” 
“What do you want from me? I can’t just avoid him just because he makes you feel uncomfortable.”
He scoffed, “Does he even know you have a boyfriend?” 
“Jay, I don’t need to tell him that I have a boyfriend. Everyone knows you’ve been picking me up to and from school.”
“Yeah, but it’s different when you actually tell them.” 
Finally arriving in his dorm, you put your bag down on the couch and stormed into the bathroom. He placed your laptop on the coffee table and tossed his car keys on the kitchen counter. You can sense his anger because you could hear him slamming the fridge shut from across the room. You just cannot believe him right now.
Ignoring his tantrum, you washed your face, brushed your teeth, and tied your hair up. 
“What do you want to eat?” he asked from the other side of the door.
“I’m not hungry.” You stepped out of the bathroom and went straight to your bag to bring out some of the books you were scheduled to read tonight. There was just so much to do and you can’t be wasting your time dealing with Jay right now. 
He on the other hand was just laying on the couch mindlessly scrolling through Netflix. The silent treatment from him would have been fine for you but the TV was being awfully loud you just can’t get yourself to study. 
“Are you doing this on purpose?” you finally spoke. 
“Doing what on purpose?”
“Jay, you’re being ridiculous right now.”
“I’m not doing anything.” 
You slammed your book shut, heavy enough to be intensely audible. He jumped a bit from the vibration as you gave him the most piercing look you have ever given him your entire relationship. He was being difficult the entire time on the way here despite knowing how much you seriously did not need it tonight. He knows that you had a lot to study for tomorrow and yet he was still being a brat about practically nothing.  
You packed up your books and rushed to the bedroom to change. “I’m leaving. I can’t study here.” 
“Fine.” He still never made eye contact. 
And with that, you left. 
Jay got up from the couch with what felt like forever. He knew you couldn’t have gone too far since your dorm was just a short bus ride away, but still, it was 7pm, dark, and cold outside. He didn’t mean to sound harsh, nor did he mean to piss you off. He typically did try his best to be the most understanding boyfriend for you knowing how much you cared about your studies. 
He unlocked his phone to see no new notifications. No messages from you whatsoever. 
Alright. If she needs time off from me to study, then fine. He thought. 
But what if you weren’t fine? What if you didn’t get to your dorm safely? What if the entire time you were walking home you entertained thoughts about breaking up with him? 
Jay shook his head to snap out of his own thoughts. He had been so emotional about you getting way too close to this classmate of yours. It wasn’t like him to act so jealous, but lately he has been noticing that you’ve been hanging out with that guy a little too much for his liking. He tossed and turned from the couch thinking about how he would make this up to you or how he would respond if you did try to reach out to him after tonight. He was losing his cool because of you again but this time it was a mixture of jealousy, worry, and frustration. 
He stood up feeling a slight blood rush from all the shuffling. Maybe he was just being paranoid, but he has never been so worked up for some girl before. His past relationships consisted of summer flings and college hookups that didn’t last more than a month. He never really believed in love just yet because he was so careful in saving it for someone he would actually want to devote all his time and heart to. However with you, it’s been more than three months, but is it too soon to categorize this as love? Was this what love was supposed to feel like? Was it always coupled with an impending fear of losing someone you barely spent an entire year with?
It was his turn to use the bathroom this time. He stepped onto what he expected to be a cold floor but to his surprise, the tiles never sent a sudden chill at all. He looked down to see a small carpet carefully placed on the bathroom floor. It was probably your doing because you always said that it was dangerous to keep the bathroom free of any rugs. The lack of friction might cause a slip and you wanted to rid yourselves away from any accidents. 
He sighed at the thought of you being so concerned about him. Looking around the bathroom, it was always clean these days ever since you semi-moved in with him. The towels were always newly replaced, the mirror was spotless, and the drug cabinet was always stocked up with medicines Jay never thought he ever needed. All of this he could have done all on his own but with you being on top of everything all the time despite your busyness, he just couldn’t shake the thought of wifing you up. He never thought he needed anyone until he found you. 
There was one thing that really tugged his heartstrings though. Your toothbrush was carefully placed in a cup near the sink just close to his.
“Do you even ever change your toothbrush?! You’re such a slob!” 
“I do too change my toothbrush every month!” 
“That’s fucking gross Jay, do it at least every three weeks.”
Jay watched you as you threw his old toothbrush away and opened a fresh new box with two toothbrushes this time. You placed the pink and blue ones in the cup near the sink and turned to him with the most satisfied smile. 
That was three months in your relationship. 
Feeling a rush of adrenaline, he grabbed his phone from the couch and started texting you asking where you are. He ran to the coat rack, grabbed a jacket, and exited his apartment within minutes. 
You were on case 12 out of 30 for your assigned cases to read tonight and thankfully you had the entire dorm to yourself because this was practically cramming since these cases were set for tomorrow’s recitation. Even if you’ve already been studying all day, it felt like you still had loads to cover before you were done with tonight. It wasn’t like you weren’t thinking of Jay the entire time but the fight wasn’t really worth pausing and you really couldn’t afford to lose momentum. 
Knock knock. The sound of the door interrupted your concentration. 
“Y/N, it’s me.” you heard him from the other side.
Well of course who else would it be?
“Jay I—“ you couldn’t even open the door fully and finish your sentence because he barged right in and surrounded you in the tightest embrace. He was panting, caressing your hair, digging his face in the crook of your neck. 
You can feel his heart thump against your body. He was so cold from the outside weather, but his breath was hot, and he was shaking. 
“Oh my god, is everything okay?!” you hugged him back, “are you hurt? did something happen?!”
“Why are you like this? I was picking a fight, left you alone to go home by yourself, was a total brat, and still you’re asking me if I’m okay??” he was exasperated, but continued to wrap his arms around you like his life depended on it. 
“Are you crazy? I’m not the one who’s barging into his girlfriend’s dorm acting like he didn’t see her just a few hours ago!”
He loosened his grip and faced you. You were probably just tired but was he crying?
“So you’re still my girlfriend?” he squeaked. He was so cute and so not himself right now if it weren’t such a worrisome atmosphere, you would have laughed. 
Okay, so maybe you did laugh a little bit. 
“Of course, I am!” you chuckled, “why did you ever think that I wasn’t?!” 
“Because we fought,” he sniffed, “I thought I was going to lose you.” 
You were full on laughing at him right now. His eyebrows furrowed and gave the cutest, tiniest pout. 
“Jay,” you finally managed to say, “I was mad, and yes we did fight. But I’m not breaking up with you. I’m sorry if you felt that I was going to.” 
He hugged you again, but this time tackling you onto the couch putting his entire weight on top of your smaller frame. 
“Jay—“ you choked, “’Jay, if you don’t get off of me right now I might actually break up with you.”
“That’s not funny!” he backed away in an instant, “You can’t just sprinkle all this domesticity onto my life and just walk away.” He continued to rub his eyes, sniffling, and struggling to sit next to you on the couch. You caressed his back and waited for him to calm the eff down. 
“I’m not sure what your idea of romance is babe, but that’s how relationships are supposed to be,” you comforted him as he turned to face you, “we will fight, butt heads, disagree, get jealous, and even walk out on each other but that doesn’t mean we love each other any less.”
He sat up straight hearing the word and you notice his ears turn cherry red. 
“—and yes, I do love you, Jay.” 
“You love me?” he sounded like the word was so foreign, so uncommon, and so alien that the slight hesitation made you feel like you trespassed in some unfamiliar territory. 
With that, you just nodded. 
He buried his face into his hands. Is he going to say it? Is this finally the day he’s going to say it? He pictured that the first time he would ever say it to anyone would be special. He imagined it being on a hill, or by the ocean, or on top of the city lights, or somewhere more beautiful and deserving than this. But come to think of it, he never would have thought about saying it before, not to just anyone at least. 
He only really imagined saying it to you. 
There were nights where you two would just be eating, watching TV, brushing your teeth, he would watch you get up to study right after you just had sex, just doing the most mundane things, and he would just have this strong urge to tell you something. Something he has never ever felt with anyone else before. 
He tensed up, took a deep breath, and said:
“I love you.” 
He looked at you so intensely.
“I love you, so much.”
And you knew. He didn’t need to say it, but you knew. 
182 notes · View notes
kjxlll · 17 days
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fav phrase friday!
ty for starting this funky little game @arokel :D
pick your (five?) favorite phrases/sentences/paragraphs/metaphors from any of your wips and share 'em! you don't have to have a reason why they're your favorites unless you want to :)))
We Carry Through (i Am going to finish this lmfao):
“It’s just midterms. You know how it is,” Bobby tries. When Jim doesn’t reply, he continues, “We won today, didn’t we?” It’s a stupid thing to say. There’s a million ways Jim could argue with it. He could say they got lucky, that it’d been too close for comfort– and he’d be right again. But he doesn’t say any of that.  “I’m not talking about winning or losing,” he says quietly, “I’m talking about you.”  Bobby is silent. That’s not the type of thing you’re supposed to say. But then again, there’s a lot of things happening among the crew that aren’t supposed to be. He doesn’t know how to reply.  He’s still thinking it over when Jim speaks again. “...Is it about a girl?” “What?” 
time displaced:
“I dunno, it’s just—you’re always so stone-faced about everything except him.”  Don’s head feels fuzzy. Like the splashy walls are collapsing in on him.  Then Barbara bites her thumbnail. The same way she always does when she’s nervous. The way her mother always hated, but Don has never minded. And that one little action is somehow both comforting and stomach churning at the same time, because this is Don’s girlfriend. Or, was his girlfriend. But it seems like they aren’t like Joe and Joyce.
descendants that may or may not ever be finished (aka my past tense practice):
Uma looked down on relationships. Mal and Ben, Evie and Doug, Jane and Carlos—these people had nothing in common. It certainly seemed like Mal’s big bad gang had a chronic tendency to “fall” for the first Auradonian to show them an ounce of kindness, and Uma couldn’t help but scoff at how quickly they forgot how they were raised: unloving, unlovable. She thought she had it all figured out. She really did. And then she watched firsthand as Gil fell in love.
woah i am actually making this one in the titular day. if you're seeing this join in!!
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astralaffairs · 1 year
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voltaire to versace 04 | thomas jefferson
title: voltaire to versace 04
pairing: professor!thomas jefferson x reader
words: 7.4k
warnings: this one is chill just like sexual tension. sorry ive been gone for two years lol
desc: from francis bacon to foucault, descartes to dante, your political philosophy seminar doesn’t promise to be a blowout — and yet, one mysterious stranger and a risqué evening later, your burberry-clad professor gives you the feeling it won’t be quite the snoozefest you’d expected.
tags: @lunariasilver @tinywhim @nyxie75 @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @checkurwindow @katierpblogg @cubedtriangle @lunariasilver @lexylovesfandoms @fanfic-addict-98 @stephyra17 @notebookgirl30 @exorcisms-with-elmo @kmsmedine @itshaileyn @honeyand-roses @laic2299 @id-do-it-for-free-babe @luckyfriesss @golddiggs-x @drreamhugs @sillyteecup @notebookgirl30 @marvelouslyemily @checkurwindow— let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future parts!
SHE STILL FINISHED grading the first round of essays for Thomas, but she dropped them off at the faculty mailboxes that Sunday afternoon — she couldn't face him at that point. On Monday, she gravitated back to her seat at the rear of his lecture hall. She did the same on Wednesday.
Her responses to his emails and his texts were short and to-the-point. He needed her to grade the recent papers from his International Security class? Sure, but she was busy during his office hours; any chance he could leave them in his mailbox so she could pick them up the next morning? Thanks, that'd be great. He wanted her to work with him on laying out the rubric for an essay? No problem. She'd set up a shared Google Doc right away.
It was a week after Y/N had last spoken to Thomas that Dolley was over his apartment that weekend with James. She was smug when she came home to Y/N.
"Thomas is looking for you," she said mildly, and Y/N glanced up from her laptop on the couch with a skeptical gaze.
"And what, exactly, makes you say that?"
"He asked me to tell you."
Y/N's eyebrows shot up. "Wait, seriously?"
"Mhm." Dolley's smile was self-pleased. "He was home when I was over, and he said he needed to talk to you."
"Thanks for letting me know." Y/N's voice was tense as she looked back to the paper she was writing, and Dolley took a seat beside her with a glass of water.
"Can I ask why that might be?"
"No clue."
"So are you going to talk to him?"
"I have class with him Monday. I'll see him then."
"Y/N." She gave her a deadpanned look, and Y/N looked tired when she met her eyes. "Did something happen? You haven't mentioned his name even once all this week."
"No, everything's fine," Y/N assured her, but Dolley looked less than convinced.
"Then why do you look so unhappy right now, dear?"
"What? I don't," she replied defensively, and Dolley raised a skeptical eyebrow.
"How daft do you think I am?" she asked, folding her arms after she put her glass on their coffee table. "You can deny wanting to sleep with him all you'd like, but I know how much you like Thomas. It isn't exactly subtle. So what happened with you two?"
Y/N sighed, rubbing the side of her nose. "It's not really that big of a deal. I'm probably blowing it out of proportion, but he drove me home from the party at their apartment last weekend, and..."
"And?"
"And I came onto him." She was wincing at even the memory. "I was drunk, though, and he knew that, but it was so stupid. I'm still kind of mortified, so I've been dodging his attempts to talk to me. I don't know how I'm supposed to face him."
Dolley took a deep breath, eyeing Y/N where she sat with her head in her hands, her laptop closed on her lap. "Well, he clearly wants you to talk to him, so I'm sure he didn't think it was quite so bad."
"But I'm gonna be an anxious wreck the next time I have to talk to him," she groaned.
"You're his TA and his student," Dolley pointed out. "You can't avoid him forever."
"I'm not trying to," Y/N said. "But… y'know. I can still put it off for a little while. Midterms are only a week away, and then it's spring break. If I can make it that far, I don't have to talk to him until fourth quarter."
"You're being ridiculous."
“I’m being practical,” she replied, “besides, it’s only two weeks till break. The only time I’m gonna need to talk to him is when I turn in my midterm.”
Dolley snorted. “I’d wish you luck, but this one’s a lost cause, dear.”
————————————
IN THE END, Dolley was right. He hardly let her get away with it for more than a week.
"Y/N, can I have a word?"
She cringed.
It was 6 PM on Wednesday; the rest of her class was filing out of the lecture hall, but she paused where she stood in the row second to last. She'd already turned to leave. She shifted on her feet as she turned to Thomas, pulled her bag further up her shoulder, but when she saw him standing at the front of the room, arms folded and brow creased as he watched her, she couldn't meet his eyes.
Her classmates shot her curious looks as they left — Thomas never asked students to stay after class. If something was wrong, he sent them emails, he asked them to come to his office hours, he’d even used Twitter messages to reach people before, but he never publicly asked someone to hang back. She’d learned that it was against his ethos as a professor; he’d told her a story or two of his college days that made her understand why.
However, as much attention as this anomaly in his behavior drew, she had a feeling she knew why he wanted a word with her. She slumped back into her chair beside the aisle until everyone else was gone, and finally, the door fell shut, echoed through the hall, and she approached Thomas's desk with a looming sense of dread. He glanced up from packing his bag.
"Hey."
"Hey." Her voice was hesitant. "You couldn't have just approached me after the class got out?"
"In my defense," he started, "you haven't been makin' yourself all that easy to find. Everything okay lately?"
He was watching her expectantly, an eyebrow raised, and she folded her arms. "Yeah. Just fine."
"Then lemme rephrase that." Then, he turned fully toward her, his bag pulled shut and pushed aside. He frowned. "Why've you been avoiding me?"
Her eyebrows shot up. "What? I'm not."
"Yes, you are." The words left no room for negotiation, and she sighed. "And I mean, 's your prerogative. You've still been comin' through as a TA, so I'm not about to try and criticize you, but can I at least get an explanation?"
He looked pretty frustrated for someone who wasn't about to try and criticize her.
"You're not that oblivious," she said. "I have a feeling you know why."
Several moments passed in a tense silence. He was eyeing her tentatively, unmoving, and she couldn't meet his scrutinizing gaze, shifting on her feet. Finally, he sighed.
"The party?"
"Got it in one."
To her surprise, he let out a dry huff of laughter. "To be honest, I'm surprised you even remember that."
"I kinda wish I didn't."
Thomas offered her a reluctant smile. "I hear that. But..." He hesitated. "Which part of that night’s still bothering you?”
Y/N furrowed her brow, looking back up toward him. "Seriously?”
She figured it was obvious. Trying to seduce your professor while well-past drunk seemed like a clear, egregious issue, and she wasn’t quite sure why he was playing dumb.
"After all that time you spent avoidin’ me, you've gotta know what I'm talkin' about. C'mon." She stared at him blankly for another moment, and finally, he sighed. "Nevermind. I'm sorry about what happened then. We don't have to keep discussin' it if you don't wanna."
"No, hang on, what are you sorry for?" she asked, disbelief clear in her voice, and he raised an eyebrow. She hesitated before she went on, "I... I'm sorry for coming onto you like that. It was really stupid, and I know I crossed a line, but that's all my own fault; I don't—"
"You were drunk. Don't feel bad about it," he said reasonably. She was searching his apologetic expression as he spoke; she couldn't fathom why he looked guilty. Had something happened that she didn't remember?
"But why are you apologizing?" she asked softly, creasing her forehead. "You didn't do anything wrong."
"I got real close to doin' something I shouldn't, though," he said, carding a hand through his curls. "I shouldn't have let it get that far. 'Specially not when you were drunk. I got too close to crossing that line."
"Too close to..." Y/N repeated, trailing off with her brow furrowed, but that was when it hit her. Had she not been so mortified by her own actions, she realized, she'd have been dwelling instead on the way his hands had tightened around her waist, how he'd pulled her into himself with a bruising grip when she tugged at his hair. That evening, she'd convinced herself he was going to spend the night. "Oh."
"Yeah." He swallowed hard, hands tucked into his pockets. "So, 'm sorry. I should've shut that down, and I get why you've been keepin' your distance."
"No, no, relax." She dismissed his apology with a flippant wave of her hand. "I was in the wrong. You were trying to be considerate."
"You're givin' me too much credit," he sighed, and a flicker of a smile graced her lips.
"I wouldn't say that," she argued, and she hesitated, cocked a brow before adding, "Unless, of course, you had an ulterior motive for insisting on taking me home in the middle of the night?"
His eyes widened. "Oh! Jesus, no, I swear, I didn't— I wouldn't..." As an amused grin split Y/N's controlled expression, though, he trailed off, squinting at her. "You're just messin' with me, aren't you?"
“Maybe,” she answered mildly, giving an innocent shrug. He scowled. “But, really, Thomas, it’s fine. We can forget it ever happened, okay?”
He watched her warily as she offered him a tense smile. He wasn't sure it was fine, and quite frankly, he knew he'd have a hard time forgetting it ever happened — he felt like there was more left to say.
But as his pause stretched on, as she raised her eyebrows at his uncharacteristic silence, he didn't have the words.
"You sure?" was all he finally said.
"Yeah."
“Alright.” He eyed her for another moment, wary, before he pulled his bag up onto his shoulder. "That’s good. I… guess I'll see you around. Good luck with midterms, Y/N."
She didn't miss the final, unreadable once-over he gave her before starting up the stairs out of the lecture hall. She didn't go after him.
————————————————
WHAT FOLLOWED WAS midterms week, which came and went without much pomp or circumstance. She didn't see much of Thomas that week after finishing with his test, which was more intentional than she’d like to have admitted. On Friday night, she finished grading the papers he'd delegated to her, but she just left them in his mailbox.
When Saturday afternoon rolled around, she was perched on the couch in her apartment flipping through the same Netflix suggestions she'd been seeing for the past hour. She'd had an incredibly relaxed day, and she assumed it would stay as such until Dolley came bursting in with a wide grin.
Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Where are you coming from looking so excited?"
"James's."
"Ah." No further questions were necessary, but when Dolley circled around to stand right between Y/N and the television, it was clear something more was up — something Y/N had no interest in finding out about. "Do you mind? I was watching that."
"Oh, please. No, you weren't," Dolley scoffed, but her eyes were alight despite her contrived annoyance.
"Well, I was going to," Y/N grumbled, and Dolley could only smile.
"You're going to want to hear what I have to say."
"Am I?"
"Certainly." Y/N raised an expectant brow when Dolley took a step closer to her. "Spring break just started."
"What else is new?"
"James's family has a home in the Outer Banks."
"Good for him." Y/N's responses were short as she tried to lean around Dolley, scrolling through the 'New to Netflix' category. Dolley groaned, rolled her eyes. Y/N's noises of protest went entirely ignored as Dolley pulled her remote from her hand, and she deadpanned as Dolley rested her hands on her shoulders, sitting down to straddle her lap on the couch. "Seriously?" Y/N whined.
"And we are going to the Outer Banks for spring break."
"I'm sorry, what?" She let out a dry laugh at the conviction in Dolley's voice. "Alright, maybe you're going to the Outer Banks over break, but last I checked, James and I aren't exactly on the level of road trip buddies."
"Please consider it. He told me I could invite you."
Y/N rolled her eyes. "Yeah, because he likes you. Not because he wants me there."
"Oh, what does it matter?" she whined. "An invitation is an invitation. James just doesn't know you yet. I'm sure he'll come to love you."
"I don't care," Y/N groaned, shoving her off, and Dolley rolled off to sit beside her on the couch with a huff. "As much as I love you, I refuse to let your infatuation with James take over my social life."
"What social life?" Dolley scoffed. "I've already taken it over. Now I'm just adding James."
"Hey, I have other friends," Y/N said, but Dolley gave her a disbelieving look.
"Your professors and your study groups don't count."
"There's also the kid I see every day in the library," Y/N defended. "He's the only other one on the sixth floor."
"Do you even know his name?"
She hesitated. "That's not relevant."
"Darling," Dolley groaned, shifting onto her side to face Y/N. "Just come with me. It'll be fun. And I'm sure James is bringing Thomas; after all, they're roommates."
"That doesn't add to the appeal, Doll." Y/N wasn’t sure she trusted herself on a vacation spent with him in the Outer Banks, sleeping in the same house as him, trying not to stare at him shirtless on the beach. "I let you drag me to their apartment for a night, and it ended up sucking. I'm not gonna subject myself to that for a whole week."
"Ten days," Dolley corrected her.
"That's worse." Y/N’s huff was heavy, and as she raked a hand through her hair, Dolley wore a pout. “Besides, I can’t. I have that scholarship dinner thing, remember? I have to wine and dine all the donors.”
Dolley wrinkled her nose. “I forgot about those. I’ve always thought they were exploitative.”
“Oh, they are,” Y/N agreed, “but they’re giving me too much money for me to be able to complain. I can be their little academic Miss America for a night as long as they keep paying my tuition.”
Dolley hummed in acquiescence as Y/N returned to scrolling through her suggested shows on Netflix. “So it’s like a beauty pageant, but instead of hair extensions, you bring your resume.”
“Feels more like a strip club. I had to go to two at my old school, and it’s just putting on a show to get rich, wrinkled old men to throw us a few bucks. May as well wear a g-string and try to find myself a sugar daddy.”
“Mmh, let me know if any of your DILFs have pretty sons, alright?”
Y/N gave Dolley a skeptical look. “You’ve already got James; leave the rich legacy boys for me.”
“Sharing is caring.”
———————————————
ULTIMATELY, DOLLEY WENT to the Outer Banks without her. She left the next morning (but apparently couldn't leave without giving Y/N a serious tongue-lashing). And from there, Y/N was left to fend for herself.
The first couple days were fine. She ate the remainder of the groceries in the apartment. She watched seven seasons of Grey's Anatomy before deciding she hated all the characters. She cleaned out the fridge. She drank Dolley's nice red wine (with no plans to replace it). She organized her sock drawer.
Alright, so maybe she was going a little stir-crazy in Dolley's absence. So much for her having a social life outside of that apartment.
However, she didn't leave until she was clean out of food, bourbon, and episodes of SVU.
She was just around the corner from the nice CVS, though, so when she left, she didn't particularly expect to have any reason to look her best — if any of her classmates saw her in her pajama pants, it was far from her greatest concern.
She emerged with two white plastic bags, both stretching around the edges of the fruits of her pseudo-grocery run; the fact that she hadn't bought anything with nearly the nutritional value of actual fruit was beside the point. Regardless, she was feeling rather self-satisfied as she turned onto the sidewalk headed back to her apartment, arms weighed down with junk food, holding her CVS rewards card in the corner of her mouth, lips pressed into a thin line as she tried to re-organize her wallet — but apparently, she was too preoccupied to realize what was immediately in front of her as she took the next left.
"Woah, there."
She screeched as she ran directly into the man on the other side of the corner. As she stumbled backward, not managing to spare herself from falling on her ass, two of her grocery bags went tumbling to the ground; three split right through the bottom of the plastic, and as her pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream rolled to the feet of her accidental assailant, she let out a defeated groan.
She dropped her shoulders with an angry huff, and when the man before her leaned down to pick up the ice cream she'd spent the past week working up the energy to leave the house for, her gaze followed it up as he rose.
"Mint chip? Really?" When she caught sight of Thomas's amused expression, the exhaustion on her shoulders only compounded. He'd clearly been out running; he ran a hand through his curls, wiped the sweat from his brow as he popped out one of his earbuds. "You've got some awful taste, there."
"Of course, it's you," she grumbled. "Because I couldn't have been bulldozed by some stranger to, at least, spare myself the humiliation."
His smile was entertained as she dusted herself off, sparing what she could of her CVS haul, tucking her rewards card into her wallet and her pack of razor heads into her purse before she stood. "I think this belongs to you?"
"Yeah, yeah." The annoyance was clear in her voice when she looked up to see his outstretched hand, offering her back the ice cream, but (although she took the pint back immediately, as her priorities were still in order) that wasn't where her gaze stopped, instead trailing up his arm to his heaving (bare) chest and the earbuds hanging loosely from one of his ears. Her breath caught in her throat.
Sweat trailed down his torso to his abs, glistening in the mid-morning sunlight and drawing her eyes down to the waist of his sweatpants where they hung low on his hips. Her stare was only broken when he pulled his headphones out, wrapping them around his hand and yanking her gaze back up to his arms. The shift didn't help; instead, she couldn't break her wide-eyed, gawking stare from his biceps.
"Y/N?"
She was jolted back to earth with a start at the sound of his voice as he stuffed his earbuds into his pocket. His grin was broad, and her cheeks were on fire. "Shit, sorry, I, um—"
"Relax, it's fine," he said, tucking his phone in his pocket. "Need a hand with your, uh..." He picked up her extra-large jar of Nutella, "groceries?"
As he watched her expectantly, she swallowed hard, shaking her head with a tense smile. "No, no, that's fine," she assured him. "I wouldn't want to interrupt your run. I can manage."
He quirked a brow. "You sure? You're gonna have a hell of a time carryin' all of these on your own."
"I don't live far."
"I know," he said, and as she did her best to collect all her goods from the pavement around them, he did the same, "but there's no way you can get these all back by hand."
"I'll be alright," she said, her words taking on an undertone of annoyance (although it was ultimately born of her unease). Thomas didn't look so convinced.
"C'mon, just lemme help you out?" he reasoned with her, and as she tried to pull her purse shut around her two bags of mini tacos, balancing a package of laundry detergent pods on her lifted knee, she couldn't put up too much resistance. "You 'n I both know you need it."
Y/N pursed her lips. "Fine. Thank you."
Thomas raised an eyebrow. "Call me crazy, but you don't sound too grateful, now."
"Let's just go."
Though it took them a moment longer, between them, they did manage to balance all of her quasi-groceries in their arms, and Y/N nodded in the direction Thomas had been coming from. "My apartment is back this way."
"Yeah, I remember."
"Still?"
He shrugged. "I'm good with directions. And I've taken you back there twice, now."
"Right.” Against her will, the memories from those two separate nights began to surface in her mind, and she could feel her cheeks heating up. “How could I forget?”
Her tone was dry, uncomfortable, but to her relief, Thomas laughed it off.
"Someone's feelin' hostile today, huh?" he commented. Although she rolled her eyes, her face was burning; his presence had her on edge, reacting to even the smallest of his movements, and she was still trying to shake off how mortified she was from having run into him in the first place.
"Sorry. I'm just tired." He raised an eyebrow. "My sleep schedule's been all over the place without Dolley around to nag me about it."
"Oh, yeah, she's outta town with James, huh?" She hummed in confirmation. “Why didn’t you end up goin’ with ‘em? James told me he invited you.”
She huffed out a dry laugh. “Yeah, he invited me as an extension of Dolley because he wanted her there. I’m much happier alone in my apartment than stuck in the Outer Banks with people I hardly know.”
“Yeah, you ‘n me both.”
Y/N furrowed her brow. “I thought these were your friends that were going.”
He shrugged. “James ended up bringin’ a lotta grad students I’ve never met. Some undergrads in there, too. Would’ve been a shitty ten days, ‘specially once he let me know you weren’t comin’.”
“‘Especially once you knew I wasn’t coming’?” she echoed, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, don’t get ahead of yourself,” he replied. “I stayed behind ‘cause I knew I could pawn more papers off on you to grade.”
“Well, that is part of my charm,” she said frankly, and he couldn’t help but laugh.
“That and the pajamas you’re always wearin’ around campus?”
“Oh, come on, I’ve seen you when I was wearing pajamas once. That’s it.”
He hummed skeptically, and she glanced up at him as they walked. “I know you’re no math major, but addin’ today to the day you stormed into my office makes two days, not one.”
“Today doesn’t count,” she argued. “The plan was to go to CVS, go back home, and interact with nobody. Besides, you’re not even wearing a shirt, so it’s not like you have any room to judge.”
“At least you know that I own shirts, though.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That you only own pajamas, sweetheart. Didn’t think I had to spell it out for you,” he said matter-of-factly, casting her a sidelong glance, and while his expression was playful, she could feel her cheeks flush.
“Oh, shut up; you know that isn’t true,” she defended. “Just because I’m partial to my sweatpants doesn’t mean I can’t dress up when need be. I have nice clothes.”
He eyed her skeptically. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
————————————
IT TOOK THE pair of them just a few minutes to reach Y/N’s apartment building, but it took several more for them to actually make it up to her apartment. Trying to get the door unlocked without dropping anything was a fiasco — it ended in one of her mini Coke cans rolling down the hall, no doubt fated to explode the minute she opened it, and a bag of pizza rolls splitting open at the corner when she dropped it. Thomas had little sympathy for her complaints about them being exposed to carpet germs.
"Thank you for all the help." Y/N turned to Thomas with a sheepish smile when she finally put her groceries down. "Sorry for ruining your workout."
"Don't mention it." He dismissed her apology with a wave of his hand after he put the rest of her things down into the pile she'd started. "After all, you're tiring enough that it doesn't make a difference."
"Shut up." Despite her scowl, he snickered, and she rolled her eyes as she went to open her fridge. "I should put everything away so it doesn't go bad, but is there anything I can get you as a 'thank you'? A drink? Something to eat?"
"This just your way of askin' me to stay longer?" He raised a teasing eyebrow, but when she turned to him, her eyes were wide.
“Oh! No, no, I didn’t mean… I mean, you don’t have to, I just—”
“Woah, relax.” His voice held a trace of a laugh at the panic that was slowly dissipating from her gaze. “I was kiddin’, alright? Didn’t mean to rattle you like that.”
“I’m not rattled,” she defended, closing her fridge, and she could feel her cheeks heating up as he eyed her with disbelief. “I just felt like I owed you something for all the help. I know I kinda derailed your day."
"I told you, it wasn't a problem," he said mildly. “But, y’know, if you wanna pay me back, I’ve got a whole lot more papers that need gradin’.”
Her groan made him laugh. “God, please don’t make me regret becoming your TA. I have better things to do with my spring break.”
“Like what?”
“Like eating all the ice cream I just bought?” she said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, and he rolled his eyes.
“C’mon, if I give you the rubric, you really can’t multitask?”
She sighed. “Yeah, alright, if you really need the help. I’ll come to pick them up sometime this week if that works for you?”
“That’s just fine. I wasn’t plannin’ on going into my office, though, so you’ll have to swing by my apartment.” Her most vivid memories of the last time she’d been at his place flashed in her mind’s eye. “That okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” She cleared her throat when she realized how long her moment of hesitation had been. He creased his brow. “Just tell me what time you’ll be home. I won’t have any scheduling conflicts.”
“What, you don’t have any big parties on the calendar?” he asked, cracking a lopsided grin, and she let out the lightest of laughs, the sound quiet and forced. “You aren’t gonna find yourself gettin’ arrested when a professor calls the cops on your rager?”
“Nah, not this time,” she said. Her smile was stiff, and he pursed his lips as he watched her continue unpacking her groceries, bending down to tuck various packages into different cupboards.
“Good to know,” he replied. In the pause that followed, Y/N was aware of every twitch of every muscle in her body; she could feel his eyes on her as she moved through her space. “I’ll text you when I sort ‘em out, then.”
“Cool.” Her mouth was dry. She didn’t look his way.
“Alright.” The hum of the fridge had never sounded louder. They could hear footsteps on an adjacent floor of the building and the soft buzz of their AC unit. Y/N swallowed. His next words were cautious. “So, should I, uh, head on out, then?”
Her eyebrows jumped. When she turned her head to look at him, she realized he hadn’t moved from his spot. She shrugged hesitantly.
“I mean, it’s your call.” His gaze flitted away from her when she met his eyes. “If you have somewhere to be, I don’t wanna keep you. I can finish putting my food away.”
“Wouldn't wanna overstay my welcome is all. I dunno if I should be spendin’ any more time in your apartment than I need to.” His expression was nonchalant, uncaring, but his shoulders were tense. She could see the tendons in his upper arms twitching, and it was only then that she was reminded that he was, in fact, very shirtless in her kitchen.
He glanced back at her with tentative eyes.
“That might be smart.” She stood up to her full height, looking down at the counter before her. “It’s getting kinda late anyway. You should probably head back before it gets dark.”
It was nowhere near sundown, but the message was certainly received, and Thomas nodded. “‘Course. I’ll see myself out.”
“Thanks for the help with the groceries,” Y/N said softly, and he smiled.
“Anytime,” he said. “I’ll see you soon.”
———————————————
“WHAT CLASS GOT a multiple choice midterm?” The indignance in Y/N’s voice made Thomas laugh.
“The freshmen.”
They were at Thomas’s apartment. Dolley and James would still be gone on their road trip for five more days, though, and that left them living alone about a block away from each other. Y/N wasn’t sure she knew where they stood, but when she went to pick up the midterms Thomas needed her to grade, he first had to walk her through the rubric. Then she started asking questions, and they both ended up sitting; then Thomas returned to sipping his coffee, and Y/N started leafing through one of the papers with a pen, and it only made sense for her to stay.
At least, that was how she justified it to herself as she reached the end of her second hour parked on his couch.
“I swear to god, you coddle those freshmen,” she said, twirling her pen absentmindedly as she went through the answer key. She scowled. “And they’re still getting, like, 25% off.”
“See? I’ve gotta coddle ‘em,” he defended. “If I make that class any harder, I’m gonna have a full class of Fs on my record. Won’t be gettin’ tenure, that’s for sure.”
“If you treated them like they were competent, maybe they’d be forced to learn,” she suggested, and he rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. When you finish grading ‘em, d’you mind calculating the curve for me?”
“This is curved?” Her tone bordered on genuine annoyance, but her dramatic reaction was only entertaining Thomas. “I’m gonna need another cup of coffee to get through this.”
“Now, this feels exploitive.”
“You don’t even pay me to TA,” she pointed out. “With the bullshit I put up with, you owe me a drink from that fancy espresso machine you have tucked away.”
“Aw, c’mon, is workin’ with me really so bad, sweetheart?” He plastered on a pout, but the casual term of endearment made her pulse jump. It didn’t feel so natural to hear him call her that anymore.
"Don't get me started," she said, but she knew how shaky she sounded. Thankfully, he didn't seem to notice (and if he did, he didn't mention it).
“Alright, alright. I was just headed to get myself another, anyway.” He acquiesced easily, and she was all but relieved when he left the room, taking both their mugs with him.
She wanted there to be a way for her to shake off any of the nerves he always seemed to leave her with. It wasn’t right; it wasn’t fair — he was her professor. He used terms of endearment without a second thought. She needed to stop overthinking it, especially given that she’d heard him call both Maria and Angelica “darling” and “honey” on more than one occasion. “Sweetheart” seemed to be reserved for her, though.
Stop thinking like that.
She cringed as the observation surfaced. She knew she was reading into it, and her mind was running a mile a minute to try and replace the idea with something else, any kind of distraction. She decided to chalk it all up to the caffeine she’d been consuming en masse.
So maybe another latte wasn’t the greatest idea. She pushed herself off of his couch with a grunt.
All she wanted was a glass of water, so she didn't expect that there'd be any problem with her just barging into his kitchen since she was already at his place.
But she'd just turned into the kitchen's doorway, and Thomas wouldn't have minded it if she hadn't turned with the worst timing imaginable.
"Oh, fuck." She felt the coffee scalding her skin before she processed what'd happened. Her grimace was involuntary and pronounced as she stumbled away from him, pulling the back of her shirt as far away from her body as she could. "Shit, shit, shit, that's hot."
"Jesus, are you alright?" It wasn't until a split second later that she turned to see Thomas standing behind her, mortified and frantically going to set down his mugs so he could go to check on her.
But she only shook her head, doing her best to regulate her breathing, control her expression despite the searing pain across her upper back. “Shit, I—” Her voice broke off as she swallowed hard, far from concerned with being a considerate guest when she pushed past him into his kitchen. Thomas was frozen to the spot, watching her rush to the sink and frantically yanking off the nozzle of his sink to run cold water over her shoulder blade (she’d never been more grateful for his bougie interior design). Her focus was nowhere near him.
She had no clue how to treat a burn. However, she didn’t think twice before tearing her shirt off — it was searing her skin.
Her tunnel vision may have blinded her to the larger context of her panic (and for good reason, all things considered), but Thomas was stunned as he watched her strip off her button-down in the middle of his kitchen, run it under water to use it as a rag. She tucked it under her left bra strap so that she could press the cold cloth directly against the burn.
Thomas was gawking. When Y/N caught her breath, turning to him, she met his eyes, and— well, actually, she didn’t meet his eyes. His gaze was focused a good ten inches below her eyes, and she chose to conclude that he was staring at her chest because he was concerned about having burnt her with coffee. The fact that not even a drop of the scalding coffee had touched her chest was a nonissue.
“Do you know anything about treating burns?”
“Not…” He cleared his throat, redirecting his stare up to where her eyes actually were. “Not much. I— Holy shit, are you alright? God… lemme Google it. Hang on.” She tried to catch her breath as Thomas pulled out his phone, and the first thing he said was, “Alright, says you’ve gotta get rid of any clothes over the burn.” He glanced back up at her. “Looks like you’ve got that covered, though.”
“Yeah, I figured that one out for myself. Thanks.” Her tone was dry.
“Right.” Thomas cleared his throat. “You wanna use my shower to run it under cold water, then?”
She nodded frantically, grimacing as she pulled her damp shirt out from under her bra strap, holding that as far from her skin as she could without her bra coming off. “Please.”
It took just about all of Thomas’s willpower to keep his gaze north of her collarbones as he showed her where the bathroom was and told her how to work the shower. If any god happened to be real, he was fairly sure he was being tested that afternoon — and all because he didn’t feel like calculating the curve on his midterms. He could safely say that this was far more difficult.
He gave her a towel and some of his spare clothes to change into, but when she dug the Neosporin out of his medicine cabinet, he heard her call his name.
He knocked on the bathroom door. “Everything alright in there?”
“Yeah, I just…” Her voice was muffled as she trailed off. “I can’t reach the burn.”
“Oh.” He swallowed audibly, although Y/N was far enough that she couldn’t hear it. “D’you… need help?”
“Please.” Her voice was hesitant and nervous.
“Can… can I come in?”
“Yeah, just hang on a second.” There was a pause. Y/N didn't meet his eyes when she came to open the door; she held a towel over her bra-clad chest, one of the straps having slipped off the side of her left shoulder. "I, er… can't reach my back to bandage it. Can you… ?"
Thomas's eyes widened. "Oh, um, yeah. Yeah, I've got it."
"Thanks," she said quietly, and when she turned to the sink, passing him the ointment and gauze as she faced the mirror, she kept her hand towel held over her front. "Sorry about… all this."
"Why're you sorry?" The amusement in his voice eased the tension in her shoulders. "Sorry for gettin' coffee spilled on you? Sorry for havin' skin on your back?"
"Sorry for having burnable skin on my back," she corrected him, and he laughed.
"Yeah, alright, good point. If you weren't so damn flammable we wouldn't have this issue," he teased, but he pursed his lips. "In all seriousness, this one's on me. Wasn't watching where I was goin'; I was the one that ran right into you, not the other way around."
"Yeah, but I was in the way," Y/N pushed back, and Thomas raised a skeptical eyebrow, meeting her eyes in the mirror.
"You've gotta stop apologizing for things, sweetheart. Especially things that I think we both know weren't your fault." How frankly he spoke made her sigh, and in that moment, it felt as if she was back in the entrance of her apartment, clinging to him as he tried to keep himself from pulling her closer. She swallowed her pang of guilt. “Lemme know if this hurts, yeah?”
“Okay.” Her voice was small.
Neither of them spoke as he dabbed ointment onto her wound, and his gentle touch had a warmth filling her skin that had nothing to do with the burn. He stood within inches behind her. The air in his bathroom was tense; both of them were aware of every movement the other made, every brush of their skin against one another, and it took every ounce of her willpower to keep her eyes down, to keep from staring at him in the mirror. She glanced up to see him knitting his brow, concern in his gaze. 
He placed the ointment back onto his sink, instead unraveling the gauze he held in his other hand.
"Pass me the medical tape?" The sound of his voice made her look up, meeting his eyes in the mirror. It took her a moment to process his words, but when she did, she broke his gaze immediately, clearing her throat and nodding as she reached for it and handed it back to him.
Her skin tingled as he laid the gauze softly over her wound, doing his best to give her skin room to breathe. She shivered as he taped it down by the sides. "Alright."
"You're done?"
He nodded and although his touch was tentative as he pressed the tape down to her back, it was firm. "Yeah, that should hold. Looks good."
"Okay," she said quietly, giving him a small smile. "Thank you."
When he finished, she expected him to take a step back, to let himself out of the bathroom so she could get dressed, and so she turned to him, anticipating that he'd move out of the way and she could retrieve her clothes from the bathroom floor. However, it was at the same time that she turned that he leaned forward to put the gauze back on the edge of the sink behind the ointment. They moved in synchrony, but it wasn't the synchrony either expected.
They were both far, far too afraid to move, then.
Thomas's hand was on the side of the sink, now to her right as she faced him, and with him leaning into her, between his arm beside her and the rest of his body in front of her, Y/N didn't have much of anywhere to go. Thomas, however, could've moved. He should've moved, too, and he knew that well. But when she turned to him, he found his face mere inches from hers. His nose brushed against her cheek, and with her having used his shower, with her wearing his spare clothes, he could smell the traces of his woody cologne mixing with a sugared scent he couldn't describe as anything other than her. She swallowed hard.
This felt familiar to both of them, by then. The proximity between them was all but second nature with how much time they spent together, with all the late hours in his office or her apartment. But this atmosphere was charged.
Every interaction between them had been measured and meticulous for months — while they had both been pushing boundaries, neither dared to cross them. But this? Neither of them had meant for this to happen. Neither had meant to make it so easy for them to simply fall into each other, but something about it seemed so natural, almost fateful.
Thomas was exercising every last drop of his willpower as he looked down at Y/N's wide eyes, her wet hair, her (his) pajama pants that were far too long for her. He tucked one of her damp locks behind her ear.
"We can't do this." Y/N's words were cautionary as Thomas's eyes wandered to her lips, but there was no feeling behind them. She didn't want him to stop.
"I know." His thumb traced her jaw, and he made no move to step away. He did know that what he was doing was wrong, but with how caught up he was in everything that was her, he was having trouble remembering why. "So stop me before I do something stupid."
She couldn't take a breath. Her voice was trembling.
"I don't think I want to."
He was hesitant to lean in toward her, but when he shifted forward, she met him halfway with every bit as much trepidation, and this kiss was nothing like the night they met. His touch was careful. His lips were slow, savoring the taste of her on his tongue. He held her as if his gentle touch would negate all the implications of their actions, all the damage this might cause.
Because this didn't feel like the illicit affair that Y/N knew it to be. This was Thomas, her friend, her coworker, her fleeting one-night stand, and she held him against her in an embrace like that of a lover, her arms looped around his neck as the side of her nose brushed against his. This was easy. This was natural.
But this was her professor.
"Stop." She pulled away from him, a hand on his chest as she struggled to catch her breath, and Thomas's gaze didn't read as dejection or hurt, but instead it came with an air of concern. The silence that followed her single word was excruciating.
"Y/N?" His voice was hoarse, but it was heavy with guilt. She didn't meet his eyes.
"I… I'm sorry, Thomas. I really…" She trailed off as he took a wary step back; she let out a breath of relief when he was no longer boxing her in against the counter, his hips no longer pinning hers back. "I need to go. I'm sorry."
She left the bathroom in a rush, grabbing her shirt from the floor and pulling it back over her head without a second thought. When she took off, he didn’t try to stop her.
139 notes · View notes
rikilouvre · 2 years
Text
Game on.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"ethan lee, incase you feel cheated on, i'm going to remind you firsthand that you started this."
"who said i'm going to be?"
story includes : toxic relationship, cheating, dark aesthetic, lee heeseung x reader, angst, profanity
a/n : this is just a short fic to let everyone know this account is still alive lol midterms just ended 3 days ago and i'm enjoying my long-weekend. happy halloween, everybody.
theme song : feeling good by michael bublé, earned it by the weeknd
a fight happened the night before the party, "ethan, are you really going to blame everything on me? you're always too focused on work like nothing's ever gonna be enough." his arms helping his body lean on the cold marble countertop, too bottled-up to talk and too mad to make a decision. he glued his gaze onto the wall, eye-level ; contemplating whether he should lash out or end things. neither happened, instead, he spoke. "nothing's really gonna be enough if you keep failing at what you're supposed to do at work." you stood still, dumbfounded – you thought you were doing a good job finishing all your tasks as the ceo's secretary, but, you weren't?
"what are you talking about?" you questioned him, daringly. "what am i talking about? i'm talking about how you're always near guys who aren't even a match for me instead of actually doing your damn job!" he's had it. though you weren't done with your interrogation and the ultimate downfall that was only about to start, "and who are you to tell me that i'm not doing my job properly? you're just some lousy marketing officer who can't even manipulate me into thinking you're doing a great-ass job hiding all your petite little girls in your goddamn messages! yes ethan, i saw it all!" no sympathy is present in the atmosphere – just pure anger, betrayal, and negligence. "those overtimes you're taking, turns out you're just making work an excuse to meet pretty little megan. or if you're feeling a bit bored with her, you book a date with pretty miss harper. harper, ethan, my college bestfriend and our officemate. i really can't believe you." you threw your hands up in the air as a sign of defeat.
he was exposed enough to be alarmed and so, he rushed towards you, "are you snooping through my phone?" he gripped you by your shoulders tight, each word coming out his mouth was covered with fear — trembling with anger. "i would never tell, now let the fuck go!" you shook out of his hold to walk out, but before going to your separate room, you reminded : "you better enjoy your night with your sidechicks tomorrow 'cause hell i'm not coming to the anniversary party with you." and there, you slammed the door shut. you could hear from the other side of the room, ethan, who's now cursing the air and screaming like an insane person.
————
and there he goes, giving you his shit-eating grin while cheap girls cling on him – megan and your now ex-bestfriend harper – his sidechicks. ethan pointed your way for harper to see and she waved at you, in which you flipped her off hard with no humour present in your facade, she was confused. ethan probably didn't let her know too, huh?
even you yourself have no idea why you're letting your relationship with him turn into something like this, but it's too late to fix it since you've already bitten into ethan's tricks. you just gave him a cold gaze and a simple unenthusiastic grin in a distance, gently cradling the red wine glass on your palm. you look at the liquor, examining its viscosity – so rich and thick – just like your hatred for how your loving and perfect boyfriend turned to be. but at the same time you just love drinking everything in, dismissing the aftermath of it but instead enjoying the moment.
you cross your legs and raise your brows, resting your free arm on the frame of the couch's backrest. just in cue, park jongseong, better known as jay in your work, approached you and sat beside you. "hey, rascal." he leaned on the backrest of the couch and crossed his arms to give your boyfriend a good glare before asking, "tension's pretty heavy. had a fight?"
"pretty much. and you're going to help me piss him off even more." before jay could even talk back, which you were pretty sure that he wouldn't since he knew what's up, you pulled him out of his seat to go somewhere out of ethan's sight. you gave your lovely boyfriend a signal that you were gonna do something worse than what he's doing to you — which caught him off-guard and showed apparent soreness from the fact that you're beating him in his own game. looking back, you can see bim excusing himself from his sidechicks and coming to you.
make your own ending <3
[ @lalalalawon ]
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inkofamethyst · 7 months
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February 15, 2024
I don't think I've ever worn a bikini. I can't remember the last time I went swimming. It might've been in high school. Part of the reason is definitely the whole hair situation but another part of the reason is probably that I haven't found a one-piece I'd be comfortable in. And like I'm generally fine with my body, I think, and I even own a bikini, but I've never worn it. I did bring it with me from home. But I got an ad for swim rompers and I'm wondering if I actually find them cute or if my interest is merely a reflection of some hidden self-esteem thing. I suppose there are two ways to "fix" the issue: make no change and overcome the fear, or regularly work out to reach a potentially unattainable goal.
On the other hand, maybe it's just not for me. It's okay to feel good about my body but not want to show it off. That doesn't necessarily have to be a sign of insecurity, I don't think. It can just be a preference.
If I had an ultra-flat stomach, ultra-defined waist, and ultra-toned everything else, would I be more down to wear a bikini? Hm. I don't know.
Coding is like teaching myself an instrument. Muddling my way through new techniques, feeling euphoric when something clicks into place. It also means it's the most tedious and annoying thing ever.
I did something in lab for the first time today. I'm not going to say what it was, exactly, but Future!Me will know. It was weird. I met with my advisor later in the day for our catch-up and confessed that it felt weird, so weird, and he said it was normal to feel that way, that he initially felt the same, and that the feeling never completely goes away. Having to suppress a mild panic response was weird. And I managed it, probably because I knew I was going to be doing this eventually, and because there are ways to look without seeing, to focus without focusing. It's a very emotional, unscientific thing. And I feel like I can't talk about it with anyone, not really. I mean maybe the people in my lab because they get it, they've done it, they do it, but not my friends or family or random people who ask me about my work. I need to talk to my advisor about how he handles those conversations. It's hard to be a science communicator when you can't even properly communicate the science you're supposed to know best.
This was a busy week. Didn't even manage to get much braiding in. Looks like it'll be a weekend in.
Today I'm thankful that everything will let up a bit after tomorrow, I think. (But first I've gotta finish this genetics homework ughhhh (but I prefer this to a midterm any day).)
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zaybxdxmi · 2 years
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RIZ AHMED, CIS MALE, HE/HIM – There goes ZAYAN BADAMI checking into the GOLDEN MOTEL. The THIRTY-EIGHT year old is a PARANORMAL INVESTIGATOR (CAMERAMAN) from TAMPA, FL. I think they are CEREBRAL, but I heard that they can also be SARDONIC. Hope they enjoy their stay!
tw: overbearing parent
Zayan Badami is the youngest of three children, the only boy of the bunch. From the day that he was born, Zay held the weight of his father’s expectations. It was the misfortune of having a father set in his ways with some old school thinking; his sisters were always bright and overachieving and yet... he was the son. Every bit of his life was under a microscope, evaluated on whether it was enough or not enough, a worth his time or a waste.
Zay had made it all the way until his junior year at college before he broke. In the middle of a biochemistry exam, he snapped the pencil in his hand in half before he stood up and left, leaving the incomplete midterm and puzzled classmates in his wake. His bio pre-med degree never finished. He sat on that knowledge, his exit from college, for over a month before finally telling his parents over what had been meant to be spring break. Naturally, they did not take it well. Zay suffered his father’s silence for two weeks until he forgot when asking for the remote. Then he was mad at himself, then mad all over again. Things are better but strained for certain.
While he never went back to school, he did go back to his apartment. He clung to what he could of that “college life,” still going to parties and getting turned away from frats. But he had to balance work, starting first as a mailroom clerk. He bounced around from job to job after that: Uber driver, overnight security, the occasional dog walker, plenty of others.
Photography had been a passion he hadn’t fully unlocked until his thirties. It was something he remembered liking, having gone through plenty of disposable cameras as a kid, also insistent to be the one in charge of taking the pictures on family vacations. It was on a whim that he picked one up from the thrift store. It was hobby that slowly became a side gig; there were plenty of families looking for holiday photoshoots. Hell, he’d even shot a cousin’s engagement photos. It wasn’t a career, yet, but it was something to help pay for those impulse purchases and keep his debt from growing.
Somewhere in all of that, him and his two friends got into ghost-hunting. Though, let it be known, Zay doesn’t believe in any of that. He’s very much the skeptical one and when he’s behind the camera, there’s often shots of the camera moving side to side, miming the way his head would shake. For him, there’s always an explanation. How many of these sightings could be zeroed down to lead poisoning? Carbon monoxide poisoning? Just a creaky ass house? Still. It was fun.
Zay always jumped at the chance to pack up and go. After all those years under his parent’s thumb and being the good child he was supposed to have been, he’s embraced being the black sheep and just wants to experience whatever he can. Give him the chance and he’ll think too much about the would have could have should have. So yea, maybe some days he is the one dragging you to go see the World’s Largest Mailbox or check out the abandoned theme park, Jazzland.
While not hesitating to pack up and leave Tampa, Zay had not been willing to leave behind his cat, Lars. He’s tried to hide him from the motel staff but lasted all of a few days before suffering the pet fee. A small price to pay for having his furry son along for the ride.
WANTED CONNECTIONS:
new friends
exes
fwb
one-night stand
do not get along
do they live next door? on the same floor?
someone willing to go on dumb side quests with him
went to college together
know his sisters?
maybe went to the same summer camp as kids?
interviewed you about historical stuff / ghost things
watch their paranormal show
more....
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saras-devotionals · 7 months
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Quiet Time 2/26
What am I feeling today?
Tired and worried. I wish I could’ve gotten more sleep and this week is midterms. I already finished my midterm paper that’s due today but I also have an exam that worries me. Also, I’ve been asked to disciple someone today and I’m not really sure how to do that since I’ve never done it before and I’m worried I’ll end up doing the wrong thing.☹️
Sermon Notes: “The Lord Declares War!” (part 1/3)
Continuing in the series on Exodus, reminder:
Exodus 1-15 (God delivers His people)
16-34 (providers for His people)
35-40 (dwells with His people)
Note on dwelling with his people, when we’re a true baptized disciple, we receive the Holy Spirit. However there are some people who say that they are spiritual people or they practice spirituality. We should remember that anything that's not the Holy Spirit is evil.
Isaiah 55:6-11 NIV
“Seek the Lord while he may be found; call on him while he is near. Let the wicked forsake their ways and the unrighteous their thoughts. Let them turn to the Lord, and he will have mercy on them, and to our God, for he will freely pardon. “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord. “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts. As the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish, so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater, so is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.”
A lot to unpack here. One, seek the Lord while you still have the chance. We are not guaranteed tomorrow and we will never be in the same place of our life again. Seek and call to Him while He’s still near!
Second, if you look closely, the water cycle is mentioned in here. The rain and the snow come down and do not return until they’ve watered the earth. Think about how incredible it is that that small detail is in a book from so long ago, how could Isaiah have known without the influence of God!
Third, God uses that to reference His word. That it will not return to Him empty handed and it will accomplish that goal He had already set out for it.
Also, reminder of the quote: “WHEN A PERSON CAN'T FIND A DEEP SENSE OF MEANING, THEY DISTRACT THEMSELVES WITH PLEASURE."
- VIKTOR FRANKL
1) God Declares War When We Stubbornly Question the Truth!
Exodus 5:1-3 NIV
“Afterward Moses and Aaron went to Pharaoh and said, “This is what the Lord, the God of Israel, says: ‘Let my people go, so that they may hold a festival to me in the wilderness.’ ” Pharaoh said, “Who is the Lord, that I should obey him and let Israel go? I do not know the Lord and I will not let Israel go.” Then they said, “The God of the Hebrews has met with us. Now let us take a three-day journey into the wilderness to offer sacrifices to the Lord our God, or he may strike us with plagues or with the sword.””
"This is what the Lord, the God of Israel, says” reminder that the Bible is the word of God, this is what He says! Some people will arque against the word/God when you show them the Bible but remind them and yourself that it is not a you problem, but instead they have an issue with God.
Also there’s a warning at the end here that the Lord May strike “us” with plagues or sword.
Lastly, if Pharaoh obeyed, then he’d be acknowledging a deity greater than him since in Egypt they believed the Pharaoh to be a sort of god.
Luke 14:31-33 NIV
““Or suppose a king is about to go to war against another king. Won’t he first sit down and consider whether he is able with ten thousand men to oppose the one coming against him with twenty thousand? If he is not able, he will send a delegation while the other is still a long way off and will ask for terms of peace. In the same way, those of you who do not give up everything you have cannot be my disciples.”
Great scripture when counting the cost. You have to evaluate whether you’re really up for the challenge of being a disciple. Also, in this story, there's no way we can win (for we’re the king with the 10,000) so what's the point of fighting with Him (God has the 20,000). When you fight with God, it’s just pride and stubbornness, thinking that your way is greater than His.
What are areas in your life where you are fighting w/ God? wrestle this out w/God through prayer for the sake of your soul to get right with Him!
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ashhlysarts-blog · 1 year
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Blog #07
       Monday, 24 April 2023 | Editing Fundamentals & The Goldfinch
Editing is the process of selecting and preparing written, photographic, visual, audible, or cinematic material used by a person or an entity to convey a message or information. Editing is the post production process of putting out a visual product. Editing is often used to fix continuity errors, add special effects to the outcome, help put together the narrative, and to tell the story that the people working on the project want to get across. Editing process can also be used in polishing the work all together, and to change the whole narrative of the outcome as well, proving to be a powerful tool for people wanting to put out creative works. Montage is essentially the same process as editing, but the word is used mostly in film editing, and mostly refers to visual/audio media. Montage is used to put together different scenes with various montage techniques, some requiring the viewer’s intellect, while others rely on a certain rhythm to follow through. This assembly of various scenes then make the final video outcome, and allows us to follow along the story-line –whether it’s linear or non-linear, it’s up to the editors–. There are a lot of different editing techniques, and this week, we had to use various of these techniques in order to complete our midterm project. We were tasked with choosing a feature-length film of our choice, and using the editing techniques and montage principles we had learned, we had to make a trailer for the film, but we also had to change the genre of the film with changed narratives, tones, and the overall rhythm of the story.
The Goldfinch was the film of my choice to re-cut. I had seen it before a couple years back, and I regretted not finishing the film. The pacing was painful to pull through, and I thought there were a lot of scenes that were quite unnecessary to keep in, yet they were there anyway. Perhaps for something symbolic? I couldn’t figure it out. There were a lot of “J Cuts” throughout the film, and cross fading effects for the scene transitions. It was cool to see and identifying these techniques, being able to distinguish the foley effects made the viewing experience into something much more interesting. There were gorgeous scenes in the film, and the narrative is deeply cinematographic in style, the tones change according to the emotion being conveyed in the scenes, and the constant flashbacks and flashforwards presented a non-linear story-line to follow.
The original genre of the film was drama, and when I watched the film again, I remember thinking this could be an entirely different genre, and I don’t think I was wrong about it. I made a decision on making it into a Crime Thriller instead. We weren’t restricted with following along the film’s actual narrative choice –and the actual narrative of the film is as confusing as it already is–, it made the editing easier to put together. The actual process before the editing was the actual obstacle. Finding the film without subtitles was a mission on its own, trying to use an application that no longer worked was another, and the editing program not accepting the file I had downloaded of the film was another as well. Trying to work through all these obstacles, screen recording not working on the laptop, having limited options really did push me a lot harder than it would have normally. I had to use footage that had watermarks on it, and i still am not quite happy about that outcome. I will try again, and I will get help from my instructors, but it is the best that I could come up with my solutions at the moment. Even with everything that has happened, I do think it was worth the all-nighters that I pulled trying to fix every little problem that occurred. And I know that we aren’t supposed to like our outcomes, but I do think I did a decent job this time –only if we disregard the watermark–. 
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Image 1-4: Certain scenes from the film
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all runtz weed strains Poll of the Day
The Facts About Healthcare For All: From From Buzzwords To Realism Uncovered
Table of ContentsThe Greatest Guide To Runtz Family SeedsThe 30-Second Trick For Coochie RuntzWhat Does Runtz Family Seeds Do?See This Report about Genital Appearance Dissatisfaction: Implications For Women's
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Considering that I think she is actually so tiny, she is actually not truly mosting likely to recognize what the impact will be likethat discussion happens eventually. It is actually truly vital when you're speaking with kids, really of any ages. I attempt to offer her the simple facts as well as what I recognize to become accurate without any kind of interpretation.
The Best Strategy To Use For Debunking The Weed Halloween Candy Myth
I am actually certainly not naive to the fact that she is actually visiting trying out marijuana, most likely prior to she's 21." Finest, however, doesn't observe the style fading anytime soon, especially when also chosen representatives proceed to sustain myths. But right after Halloween come the midterm elections, and cannabis is actually all over them (runtz). Our team suppose, Leafly country, that this account isn't brand-new to you, as well as you've rejected it.
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A couple of weeks after the Rice Ridge Fire exploded, he received a call from the Missoula City-County Wellness Department. runtz weed indica or sativa."They said there were people revealed to extremely high degrees of smoke," he says. "Existed any individual at the College interested that possessed the capability ahead up?"Migliaccio and also the staff relocated swiftly to get confirmation for non-invasive individual testing.
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At that point, when our experts returned in 2018, forty five% had dropped listed below excess of ordinary. Therefore there was some delayed damaging result. It was actually never what our team anticipated (runty strain)."The 2018 as well as 2019 fire periods were actually much less intense than 2017 in western Montana, so folks in Seeley Lake have actually not sustained more dreadful smoke visibilities.
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writing-blog-iguess · 3 years
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Harley Quinn
Summery: The batfamily hears three stories about batmom and Harley. How they met, how they started dating, and how they ended.
Warning: fluff, angst.
A/N: This bish is 4847 words. I did not mean to write that much.
Man, the amount of love I got from Stories...I'm so happy people enjoyed it. So, I hope you enjoy this one just as much.
Feedback is welcome! And feel free to let me know who or what kind of story of Batmom you want to see next.
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There were only two weeks left of summer, and she wanted to move onto campus as soon as possible. But her friend, Selina, had made it a little difficult for her. On the first day the campus was allowing their students to come, Selina had come over and stopped her from packing. And they spent the day together shopping, seeing a movie and eating. Selina ended up crashing at her place after they had binged a show.
When she started packing the next day, Selina did the same. But after a promise of hanging out when she was settled in her dorms, Selina conceded and helped with the packing. And after some whining and pizza, Selina came with her to campus to help as well.
Struggling to keep the heavy box in her hands, she made her way towards her dorm. “You can help me, you know,” she grunted, shifting the box as it was slipping out of her arms.
“I am,” Selina said, holding up a couple of garbage bags full of clothes. “My hands are just full to help you carry your box.”
“You’re funny,” she deadpanned. Selina flashed her a smile, to which she returned one of her own.
“And that’s why you love me.”
“No, no I don’t think that’s it,” she mused, looking at each dorm number. “I think I love your cat more. And that’s why we’re friends.”
Selina gasped mockingly, and bumped her shoulder. “I knew it!” She laughed just as she found her dorm room.
Fishing out her key from her pocket, she handed it to Selina and waited until Selina opened the door. The minute she walked through the door, she was eloped in a hug. It caught her by surprise that she dropped the box she was holding.
“Hiya! I’m your new roommate!”
“And they were roommates,” Dick gasped out, interrupting the story.
“Oh my god, they were roommates,” Tim finished, and three out of the four boys burst out laughing.
“You two are hilarious,” she said, slumping into her chair. They had just finished dinner when the boys started bombarding her with questions about her and Harley. And after teasing them a little about which story. She started with how she met her ex-fiancé.
“Are you two done?” Bruce asked, and the laughter slowly downed a little. Until they caught each other’s eyes, and it started again.
Damian rolled his eyes, and turned to his mother. “I didn’t know you and Selina were in a relationship,” he said, and that had caused Dick, Jason and Tim to stop and look at her.
“No, no we weren’t dating,” she answered, shaking her head. “I didn’t know my sexuatilty until I started dating Harley.”
“And how long did that take?” Jason asked, rolling his cup on the table.
She blew out a puff of air and sighed. “When we were twenty-one. Even then I needed help.”
“I don’t think I’ve heard this one,” Bruce said with a smile. She flushed in embarrassment and looked away before recalling the story.
——
“Pumpkin,” her roommate sang from the other side of the room. She hummed, blinking at her homework trying to keep awake. She was currently laying on her stomach with her chin sitting on her hand. “Maybe you should take a break. You’ve been at it for hours.”
“Pft, I’m fine,” she answered, though the words were starting to blur together. “Hey!” she said, as Harley yanked the book from her. “I need that.”
“And you need a break,” she pressed, closing the book with a snap. “Come on Pumpkin, let’s get something to eat.”
She pouted trying to grab her textbook. Harley giggled and held it out of her reach. “Harley,” she whined, “the test I'm studying for is supposed to cost half of my grade.”
“You should know that taking care of your body is more important than school, doctor,” Harley teased. She stuck her tongue out, causing Harley to poke it. “Come on, we’ll go to your favourite café.”
She lit up and quickly got out of bed, almost tripping on her feet doing so. Harley laughed and tossed the book onto the bed. “You gotta be more careful, pumpkin.” She made a face, and grabbed her stuff before the two of them left their apartment.
She looped her arm through Harley’s as they walked. Talking about everything and nothing that came to mind. On occasion, she would check her phone, hoping for any messages from Bruce. But there were none.
She hasn’t spoken to Bruce since the last time they hung out, and she wondered if it was something that she did. Though the thought was ridiculous. They’ve only met up a handful of times since he’d been back. And even then, she couldn’t think of a reason why he was avoiding her.
The only thing she could think of was their first conversation they had together. But that was back when he first arrived in Gotham.
Bruce had found the apartment she was sharing with Harley, and decided to pay her a visit before the tabloids caught wind of him being back.
It had caught her by surprise when Harley called, saying there was a billionaire holding pizza. Confused on what she meant, she rounded the corner to find Bruce Wayne standing in her hallway.
After giving him a hug, and a little catch up, the three of you spent the night hanging out. And it felt like nothing had changed between the two of you.
It wasn’t until Harley had gone to bed, that Bruce told you everything that happened since leaving Gotham when he was fourteen. He told you how his training had gone, and all the people he’s met.
It was one thing reading about them through Bruce’s letters. But it was a different experience hearing them from Bruce. When he had finished, he told her it was time to start fixing Gotham his way.
With a sigh, she had hoped that he had changed his mind. Instead of talking him out of it, she suggested waiting a little bit before doing so. Make Bruce Wayne into a public figure, or more then he already is. And then have his second persona make an appearance. Only so people didn’t connect that the two were related.
That had been two months ago. And sure, she’s been busy with school and midterms were just around the corner, and Bruce was busy running a company and….well, being a playboy from what she’s read in magazines. She didn’t read the articles, it hurt a little reading them.
And he was also busy with being Batman. She laughed at the name the media had dubbed him, it almost made her call him up just to tease him about it. But she refrained from doing so. She was unsure where she fit in his new life, and at this point she was too afraid of the answer to ask.
When they arrived at the café, she found a table for them while Harley ordered.
Harley looked over the rim of the coffee cup in her hand when her friend sighed again. “You’re in love with Bruce!” Harley accused.
She dropped her bagel on her plate and stared at Harley in shock. “I am not!”
“You totally are! You keep checking your phone like your love sick, waiting for someone to call you.”
“I am not in love with Bruce,” she stuttered out, “why would I be? He left to go to school abroad, and shows up eight years later! And so what if I thought about him during those years, and was worried about him. That’s what friends do, they worry about them. It’s not like I noticed how much he’s changed or dream about holding his hand or...or kissing him or…or...” she trailed off as she thought back to all the times her heart hammered in her chest when he smiled at her.
Or all the times Bruce made her blush. She thought back to how she smiled when she saw Bruce’s letter in the mail, or how happy she felt as she read them. Or how relieved she felt when she saw Bruce in her apartment or how hurt she was when she saw him with different girls every night.
Then she thought about all that when she was with Harley. Could she be in love with Harley too? But she quickly dismissed it, thinking it wasn’t possible.
She slumped into her chair as Harley set her mug down, and smirked at her in satisfaction. “Holy hell, I’m in love with Bruce Wayne.”
“There it is,” Harley said, giggling as she received a glare. “You’ve known Bruce since you guys were little, how is it only now that you're realizing this?”
“I don’t…” she trailed off, hands picking up her cup. She twirled it around the table as she tried to come up with the right words, “I’m not...when I can’t pick up the cues when it comes to stuff like that.”
“So someone has to tell you that they love you. Like your parents loving you,” Harley mused, she shrugged.
“I know they do and I can see that they love me. But for whatever reason, when it comes to romantic feelings, I have a blind eye,” she explained, letting the cup go in favour of pulling apart her muffin. She huffed out a laugh. “It’s funny. Back in high school there was this guy who asked me out on a date. But he didn’t use those words, he used ‘wanna hang out?’
“I said yes. It wasn’t until he kissed me that it was starting to click. Even then I didn’t fully understand. Selina told me what it was that I knew. I was so embarrassed I couldn‘t face him. I feel like there’s something wrong with me.”
Harley leaned over and took her hands, she stilled her hands and her eyes flitted up to Harley. And her heart stuttered as Harley looked at her. “Nothing’s wrong with you pumpkin. People process things differently, you just happen to need someone to tell you.”
Relief washed over her and she smiled. “Thanks, Hars.” Harley hummed and leaned back, letting go of her hand. She missed the warmth of Haley’s hands, but didn’t think anything of it, especially when she noticed a twinkle in Harley's eyes.
“So, are you going to tell Brucie?” Harley teased, she made a face and shook her head.
“No, I will not,” she said.
“But he might love you back!” Harley exclaimed, “pumpkin, I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He looks at you like you hung the moon every night.”
“Even if that’s true, I don’t think it’ll work. At least not right now,” she mumbled, and quickly added when Haley gave her a confused look, “he’s not interested in anything serious right now.”
Harley nodded in understanding, and she looked away when she saw pity in Harley's eyes.
That weekend, she found herself in the school library with Harley and Jonathan doing homework. Harley had just left for drinks, leaving the two of them alone.
Jonathan looked up from his homework and studied his friend. She hunched over her books and tapped her pencil on her head as she was going over a question.
“Are you and Harley dating?” Jonathan blurted out. She froze and lifted her head to look at him in surprise.
“Excuse me?” she asked.
Jonathan raised an eyebrow at her reaction, and stifled a laugh. “I think you heard me.”
“Oh I heard. But what made you come to that conclusion?” she clarified, squinting her eyes at him.
“The way you two act around each other,” he explained, “you're all in love and shit. It’s a wonder you haven’t kissed yet.”
“I don’t….but I can’t….” she trailed off. The words weren’t coming and she wasn’t quite sure if she did or not. “Friends can act like that platonically!”
“That’s true. But with you two, it’s hard to tell. You both have heart eyes every time you either talk about each other, or just being in the same room.”
She stayed quiet, she didn’t have anything to say.
“You know, when Harley told me you process feelings differently than most people, I thought she was joking,” he mused, this time chuckling.
“It’s great to know you talk about me,” she deadpanned, setting down her pencil.
“But I’m serious, do you like her or not?” he asked, and she let her head drop on her textbook and groaned.
“I don’t know. The other day, Harley helped me discover I’m in love with my childhood best friend. And now you're making me question my feelings for Harley.”
Jonathan held up his hands in surrender, though she wasn’t paying attention. “Wasn’t my intent, I just figured you needed to know.”
“Thanks,” she said dryly, and lifted her hand and flipped him off. He laughed and gently patted her head.
“I’ll ask a question or two, maybe it’ll help.”
She nodded but kept her head on the table. Jonathan's smile grew wider, enjoying this a little bit too much.
“When you see her, what do you do?”
She took a moment to ponder the question. “My heart starts to beat faster and I can’t help but think how pretty she is. And I get all flustered when she gets really close or she gives me a compliment. And when she’s happy and smiling and laughing, and my butterflies explode in my stomach when that happens because I did that. And sometimes, when she’s pouting or just sad, I just want to pull her into a kiss.”
Jonathan raised an eye at her statement, and had no doubt that she was blushing. “What about Bruce?”
“The same thing! He winks my way and the next thing I know I’m a blushing mess. And when he gives me a certain look, it’s like I gave him everything and I melt and just want to kiss his stupid face! And I hate him for that, but not really and….hhhhh!”
“Damn,” Jonathan huffed out, staring at her. “You have it bad for both of them.”
“But I can’t love two people at once!” she exclaimed, getting shushed by other students. She paid them no mind, head racing on what she should do.
“Who says?” Jonathan asked, and she paused to think about it. “There's no rule saying you have to like one person at the time,” he continued when she didn’t answer. “Now the question is who are you going to pick? Bruce or Harley?”
“What if they both don’t love me?” she whispered, lifting her head up slightly. “What if it’s all in my head and they laugh if I tell them?”
“I don’t know about Bruce, but Harley won’t,” he answered, going back to his homework, “trust me.”
She spent the next week pondering over her conversations with Harley and Jonathan. And there were a few things she’s discovered.
She’s bisexual.
She’s really bad at feelings and seeing them for what they are. Though this wasn’t anything new, still she hated that she needed help when it comes to emotions.
If she did choose Bruce over Harley, it wouldn’t have worked out. Not only because of him being Batman, but because she didn’t see it as a long term relationship. And she didn’t want that.
And if she chose Harley over Bruce, she didn’t want to make Harley feel like she was second pick. She didn’t want that either.
By the weekend, she still doesn’t know what to do.
Sighing, she fell on her bed. She stared at the ceilings and groaned, pressing her palms to her eyes. “Why is this hard?”
“I don’t know pumpkin, maybe I can help?” Harley suggested, startling her. She sat up quickly and turned to see Harley leaning against the doorframe.
“Help me with what?” she asked, nervously laughing. Harley smiled and walked further in the room.
“Whatever you’re having trouble with,” Harley answered.
She sighed and fell onto the bed again, she took a pillow and hugged it to her chest. “I don’t think this is something you can help with,” she mumbled, closing her eyes.
She felt the bed dip, and felt Harley shift around until she stopped. “I could listen to you rant about it?”
She hummed, but shook her head. “It’s something I need to figure out.”
Silence fell around them as she thought. Harley brought her hand over her face and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. She tensed at the sudden touch, but soon relaxed into it.
“Does it have something to do with what you and Jonathan were talking about last week?” Harley asked after a moment.
Her eyes flew open and she stared at Harley, panicking a little. If Harley knew, there’s nothing she could say that wouldn’t be a lie.
“But I…did he tell you?” she asked, Harley nodded. She groaned and stuffed her face into the mattress. “Damnit.”
Harley giggled and slowly moved her face so they could look at each other. “If it helps any, I love you too.”
She flushed, and looked anywhere but Harley. “But I don’t want to make you feel like a second choice. I don’t want you to resent me because you know I love Bruce too.”
“Hey I won’t,” Harley reassured. Biting her lip, she shook her head. Harley sighed, and moved to press her forehead against hers. “Can I tell you a secret? I loved you before I knew you loved Bruce, and I still love you knowing that. I just hope you can give me a chance.”
She studied Harley for a moment before closing the distance and kissed her.
——
“Ew! Mom! Gross! We don’t need to hear about that!” Dick interrupted. She looked up to see her boys looking at her in disgust. Jason and Tim gagged mockingly as Dick shuddered.
“What? It was just a kiss,” she answered, amused.
“Yeah but you kissed Harley. And that means you’ve done more than kissing,” Jason said.
“You knew this when your father told you I was engaged to her.”
“It’s one thing thinking about it, it’s a whole different thing to hear it from you, Mom,” Tim said, leaning back into his chair.
She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Shrugging, she picked up her glass and took a sip.
“So Harley figured out you loved me before you did? And this after meeting me once,” Bruce asked, amused. She felt her cheeks burn and looked away.
“Wasn’t my proudest moment, but yes she did,” she said with a shrug.
“And she was okay with it?”
She nodded, smiling a little at the memory. “Yeah. She didn’t seem to mind too much about it. But I didn’t spend too much time being hung up on Bruce. I was too busy with Har-”
“Ma!” Jason exclaimed, stopping her from finishing the sentence.
“I wasn’t even going to say anything bad!” she defended.
“You went to school with Crane?” Damian asked. She turned her attention to the youngest and nodded.
“We had a few classes together, and Harley just sort of adopted him into the friend group,” she mused.
“What I can’t get over, is the fact that Crane had to tell you about your feelings for Harley,” Dick put out.
“Like I said, I have a hard time deciphering emotions. Especially when it comes to romantic feelings. But once I know, then I’m okay.”
“How long were you together before getting engaged?” Damian asked, though it was still hard to believe his mother had someone before Bruce.
“And who popped the question?”
She looked at the clock and back to the boys. “Doesn't the patrol start soon?” she asked. The boys looked at Bruce with their best puppy eyes. Well, Dick, Jason and Tim did, Damian seemed indifferent but Bruce could tell he wanted to hear the story as well.
“If it’s okay with your mother, we can listen to one more story,” he said, and she raised an eyebrow at her husband. “What?”
“And I thought I couldn’t say no,” she said with a mumble.
“Shut up,” he said, but smiled slightly.
“So Ma, what’s the story?”
Her hand went up to her necklace and started playing with it as she thought back. “We’ve been together for almost eight years before I asked her.”
——
She fell on the couch once she got home from the hospital. It had been a taxing day, and all she wanted to do was curl up with Harley and sleep until the morning. But they had dinner plans they needed to get to, and if everything turned out as planned, she and Harley would be engaged.
Over the years of dating, conversation of marriage would come up. Whether it be just then asking about it, or their friends. They both wanted it, but they silently agreed that they wouldn’t take it seriously until they both finished school.
Harley had already finished her last year of residency, and she was one you last year. Granted, she still had a month left, but she figured it would still count.
“Pumpkin, I’m home,” Harley called as she walked in.
“Living room,” she answered back. A moment later, Harley walked in the room and plopped beside her. Harley laid her head on her lap and sighed as she ran her fingers through her hair. “Tiring day?”
Harley nodded and closed her eyes. “I know we had plans to go out, but can we stay in? Arkham really took me out.”
She scrunched her nose, her hands stopped moving. “I thought you didn’t start there until next week?”
“I did, but something happened with the inmates,” Harley answered.
“And they needed a psychiatrist?”
“Apparently some of the inmates needed help and they couldn’t wait until next week,” Harley said, and sighed happily when she resumed playing with Harley’s hair. “So can we stay in?”
“Yeah, we can. We can order take out and watch a movie or something,” she mused, trying to think of a new plan. “What do you want?”
“Chinese.”
She smiled and reached over, grabbing her phone and ordering food. Once finished, she set the phone before turning back to Harley. She stared at her loving, watching as Harley was slowly falling asleep.
“You’re staring,” Harley mumbled with a smile.
“I can’t help, you’re just too gorgeous to look at anything else,” she teased. Harley blushed and snuggled into her legs.
“Shut up.”
Thinking it’s the perfect time, she went for it. “Marry me?” Harley’s eyes flew open, and she quickly sat down and looked at her.
“What?”
“Marry me,” she repeated, smiling at the bewildered look Harley was giving her. “I know we talked about it a few times. And since I have a month left of residency, I figured why not. So, marry me?”
Harley looked at her for a minute before smiling widely, and threw her arms around her, laughing. “Of course I will, pumpkin!” Harley said, kissing her all over her face.
And just like that they were engaged.
As the months went by, they planned a wedding. They had decided who was going to be in the wedding party, where the venue would be, and who was going to cater for them. They just needed to book everything, but they weren’t going to do so until they picked out the wedding day.
And for a while everything was perfect. Up until Harley started seeing Joker as a patient. She didn’t see it, not a first. She took it as Harley having bad days or long tiring days at Arkham. And with doctor patient confidentiality, Harley couldn’t talk about their problems.
But Harley could tell her how the day went. If it was bad, she’d drop it and offer to make Harley's favourite foods.
Then Harley started to become distant. She would come home later than normal, and would snap for no reason. She had tried to get Harley to talk to her, but she wouldn’t. She kept saying she was fine and it had been a long day. It was worrying.
All at once, it stopped. Harley stopped talking to her, and stopped coming home.
She was out of her mind, worrying for Harley. She hoped her fiancée would come home. It was to the point that she went out and looked for Harley.
But Bruce had stopped her before she could leave the apartment.
She had found him waiting in her living room after a long shift at the hospital. It had startled her seeing Bruce dressed as Batman standing there, he cowl down.
She was about to greet him, but the sad, pitied expression Bruce had stopped her. “No, don’t…don’t say it. I don’t want to hear it.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, taking a step forward, she stepped back. “But something happened to Harley.”
She shook her head frantically, covering her mouth with her hands. “Nononono, she can’t have…please,” she begged, as Bruce wrapped her into a hug when he was close enough.
“I’m sorry, but Joker got into her head,” he started, tightening his grip as she choked back a sob. “Convinced her that they were meant for each other. Made her fall in the chemicals he fell into. She’s alive, but she isn’t Harley anymore. Not the one you knew anyways.”
She broke down crying before Bruce finished his sentence. She clung to him like a lifeline as the words sunk in.
She expected to hear that Harley died, that someone had killed her. Not this. But this? This was so much worse.
——
A heavy silence fell once she finished. She was clutching the ring that was threaded on a chain. It helped keep the tears at bay. She didn’t want to cry, not now, not after so many years.
“The next day, Bruce told me the full story,” she whispered, and grimaced as the fight flashed before her. “We fought. Okay, I yelled and he just took him. I said some things I shouldn’t have and I avoided him for a while.”
“I remember that,” Dick said, leaning onto the table. “Bruce looked heartbroken during that time. And every time I tried to ask what happened, he shut me down. Even at gala’s when you were there, he looked like he wanted to go and talk to you.”
Bruce looked at him in surprise. Dick was only eight when that happened, he didn’t think he was paying attention.
On the other hand, she felt guilt crawling in her stomach, and slouched into her chair. She hid her face in her hands when Dick continued.
“That falling out thing happened for a few years, didn’t it?” he asked. She opted to stay quiet, letting Bruce answer the question.
“Three or four years, yeah.”
Tim was about to ask what had happened, but Jason nudged him and shook his head. Tim gave him a look, and Jason gestured to their mom, practically saying I don’t think she wants to talk about it.
“Sorry for bringing up the past Ummi,” Damian said softly. “We didn’t know.”
Rubbing her face to get rid of stray tears, she dropped her hands onto the table. “That’s okay sweetie. I wouldn’t have told you anything if it still hurts.”
“So, how’d you fix your friendship with Bruce?” Jason asked. She shook her head and stood.
“Bruce can tell you,” she said, stretching, “I have the night shift tonight. And I need to get ready.”
With that she left her boys staring at Bruce, waiting.
“It’s time for patrol,” he gruffed out and followed his wife. The boys groaned, saying that wasn’t fair.
“Are you okay?” he asked when he reached their bedroom. He leaned against the doorframe, watching her quickly change and grabbed her stuff before pausing. She clutched her keys and sighed.
“Honestly? I don’t know,” she sighed, dropping her shoulders. “After ten years, it still hurts. Not as much as it did, but still.”
Bruce nodded, and pushed off the frame and wrapped his arms around her. Holding her close. “I’m sorry again for everything.”
“You know I don’t blame you anymore, you don’t need to apologize for it.”
“Feels like I have too. You don’t deserve to have gone through that.”
“No one does but life sucks that way,” she said, giving him a smile. “I have to go.”
Bruce frowned, tightening his hold a little. “I wish you didn’t.”
“I’m a doctor Bruce, but I’ll be careful,” she said, reaching up to kiss him. “You be careful too tonight.” He nodded and dropped his arms and watched as she left the room.
“I love you,” he called. She popped her head back in and smiled.
“I love you too.”
Running out of the manor and to her car, she didn’t notice a figure standing in the distance. Harley signed as she watched, glad that her ex-lover found happiness again. And promised she’d do whatever it took to keep it that way.
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sorryjustafangirl · 3 years
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☀️ my redheaded angel jt w prompt #67 please?? <3
sorry this is late but hope you enjoy! and also some of this comes from this podcast episode called "Falling" and I highly recommend it!
prompt: "I know you're sad, so let me in. It's cold outside."
Four papers. Two group projects. Assignments were due in every class, your hardest class had a midterm next week, and it was safe to say you were no less than exhausted. And that’s not taking into account your part time job or your boyfriend’s game schedule. There were three unfinished coffees lying around your desk and you were pretty sure you hadn’t done the dishes in at least a week, seeing as you had no spoons left in the drawer. Your phone had been buzzing for the past couple days, but you were so busy with everything, you didn’t even look at them. And when you did finally have a chance to check the messages, it was too much effort to formulate an answer.
You were currently working on your literature review, re-reading the same sentence over and over again because your apartment buzzer kept going off. You heard your phone buzzing on the table but it was too far and too much effort to tear yourself away from your work.
“Babe, I know you’re in there and I’m pretty sure I’ve buzzed grumpy Mr. Jones a couple times by accident already. Please just answer.”
He buzzed your apartment one more time and you ignored it one more time.
“I know you’re sad, so let me in. It’s cold outside,” He pleaded. That was what broke your concentration. You glanced at the clock and realized he’d probably been outside of your apartment building for close to ten minutes.
You walked over to the intercom, and pressed it. He went silent on the end and it took you a while to get the words out but you finally said it. “I’m not…sad.”
“Well, you’re ignoring me like you do when you get sad, so what am I supposed to think?” You tried to ignore the strain you heard in his voice but by the way your heart dropped, you had failed.
“You have a key,” You said quietly.
“I know but…I want you to want me to come up.” You sighed and buzzed him in. Soon enough, he knocked and you slowly opened the door.
“You know I always want you here.” Your voice was quiet to begin with, but it was muffled by your boyfriend’s arms around you. He just held you, his hand cradling the back of your head. He kicked the door closed and you let yourself relax a little bit into his arms, but he pulled away before you could get too comfortable. He held you at an arm’s length, taking in your appearance of sweatpants, greasy hair, and likely some bags under your eyes.
“Babe, I think you are beautiful all of the time, but when was the last time you slept?” You shrugged. “What’s going on?”
“I’m just tired,” you said, walking back towards your laptop, but he grabbed your arm, pulling you back to him. He pushed a stray hair out of your face.
“This is a little more than tired. You haven’t been answering anyone’s texts for a couple days,” he noted. You shrugged again.
“I’m just really busy, okay? There’s too much to get done, I don’t have a lot of extra time for conversations that aren’t about midterms or for sleep or for basic housework. Just a couple more weeks, and I’ll be fine. It’s just right now that’s hard.” But JT was already shaking his head before you finished.
“There’s no way I’m letting you keep doing this to yourself for a few more weeks. I was- I am so worried about you. I’ll do the chores, or help you study, make you a meal or something, but you can’t shut me out like this. ”
“But you shouldn’t have to do that for me. I should be able to take care of myself. You have your own stuff to deal with,” you reasoned.
“Yeah, I don’t have to do that stuff for you, but I want to. You’re my partner and I love you. Is it a crime to want to see you smile again?” His words made the heat rush to your cheeks and you cracked a small smile.
“There it is! Now, c’mon, it's game day tomorrow so we’re heading to bed early.” He started to walk towards your room but you stayed where you were.
“I have to finish–”
“Nope. Not tonight. We’re going to sleep,” He said, tugging you into his chest and moving the two of you into your bedroom. He easily found some of his clothes you’d ‘borrowed’ and got changed and you reluctantly did the same. When you got under the covers and your back hit the mattress, you immediately visibly relaxed and you heard your boyfriend laugh a little.
“Don’t laugh at me,” you whined. He got under the covers, pressing a quick kiss to your nose.
“I’m not, I promise. Just…nice to see you a little happy.”
“Thanks for talking some sense to me,” you mumbled, leaning into him as your eyes started to close. He pressed another kiss to your hairline, and let his arms wrap around you.
“Of course, babe. Now, get some sleep, you deserve it.”
The next morning, you woke up to a cold bed. Disappointed, you walked out to the kitchen, and immediately noticed that the counter was clear of dirty dishes, aside from a plate with a piece of peanut butter toast and a glass of orange juice. Your heart melted at JT’s thoughtfulness and when you finished your breakfast and moved the plate, your heart melted like ice cream on a hot summer day.
Went to morning practice but had to make you a healthy breakfast. Don’t shut me out next time, I’m here no matter what <3 love you always
taglist (join here): @heatherawoowoo @4ambagelbites @tysonjost-taylorsversion @2manytabsopen @stars-canucks @lorrmorr @fallinallincurls @plds2000 @barzysandhughesbaby @yummygoldenfood @drei-mrssvechii @bananarantanen
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inkofamethyst · 2 years
Text
November 3, 2022
I’m skipping class for the first time ever, I think (and, yes, I do feel bad about it).  Today’s more of a discussion day for that class anyway and I have some work to catch up on for it plus I just finished my second of three exams this week and I think it was a bit of a doozy, but I don’t feel horrible about it.  Developmental biology is really really interesting stuff, and I wish I’d spent more time studying lol.  Glad I took the time to record lectures for it this go round!  My prof barely puts explanations on the slides.  Also,,, found out today that half the class doesn’t go to lecture which is funny because I know for a fact I couldn’t learn the material from the slides he posts...
My dad thinks I should apply to a backup Masters, actually.  Which puts me right about back to where I started.  He thinks I should go for an MBA which, sure, is more applicable to a greater diversity of pursuits.  But I’d kinda wanna go for a masters in library/museum studies, actually.  And I know, I know there are so few jobs out there for museum professionals.  I know.  But if I need something to do for a year or two in case I’m not accepted to any of the mere six programs to which I am applying.. I think I’d want it to be something I’d enjoy?  Something that I was looking into doing post-grad school anyway?  
I’m.. I’m getting worried again.  The worries, the nervousnesses are creeping back in.  I do have experience.  I do have wonderful, highly-connected mentors and recommendation-writers.  I suppose I just need the luck to be on my side.
And let’s not gloss over the fact that I missed an assignment.  Fully.  Just.. did not submit it.  The first time I’ve done so in... maybe ever?  A flat-out zero.  And if I don’t hurry up with last week’s assignment for the same class (a synthesis and summary reading response), I could end up with another one.  I do feel a bit overwhelmed with schoolwork while worrying about applications and also the orchestra (I honestly have not taken any real time to practice this whole semester and it shows and it sucks and I feel awful because I feel like I’m letting my section down (I have to clarify that I know this is not a healthy mindset)) and also my volunteer thing (which, frankly, doesn’t take up a ton of time, but still) and my research thing.  I don’t know if it’s the senioritis or what, but I am very much looking forward to next semester’s three-day weekends and comparatively minimal coursework.  I just need a wee break, that’s all.
I only have one ask, one prayer for this application season, and it’s that I end up where I need to be.  In a place that is challenging and fun and stimulating and nurturing.  And, if I had it my way, perhaps a little bit enviable too, but that’s not strictly necessary.
So to return back to the original thought, I don’t know whether I should apply to a backup masters program, actually.  I don’t know if it should be bioanth-based, museum studies, or something more generalized.  And I don’t know how to approach my mentors with the question, either.
I went to an open house for my “reach school” (they’re pretty much all reaches, but this is the major reach ig) and I wanna go there so bad oh my god.  I’m gonna end up in the same boat as I was in four years ago with my undergrad Choice 1 aren’t I lol.  I wanna go there so bad it almost hurts (that’s a hyperbole, as I’m definitely in a better space mentally than I was four years ago, but the basic sentiment stands).
Today I’m thankful that tomorrow’s exam quite literally does not matter for me because I got full marks on the last midterm for the class and one of the two midterms gets dropped, so there’s no incentive for me to try all that hard, honestly.  I’ll still go, I’ll still give a cursory glance over my notes, but I am not at all pressed.
Frankly, I just want to sleep.  Hard.
My body is so tense that I think if anyone were to touch me even gently, if the wind were to blow ever so slightly in my direction, I might shatter like a brittle statue.
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