#it’s looking like wherever I’m ending up after graduation I’ll have to find a dedicated art space even if it’s like.

[sourkitsch]

That David Lynch quote where he’s like… the tortured artist is a myth because when you truly suffer you can’t make art … real

[flamingo-writes]

Yours/His— Wakatoshi x Reader

Summary: Despite being completely different people, you found comfort in each other’s company. And after a couple of years of friendship, it seemed only natural that the two of you fell in love with each other. Even though you weren't the “type” of girl Ushijima Wakatoshi liked. However, you were the first girl to ever make him feel like that. 

Posted: 08.14.2020

A/N: I intended this to be a short fluffy drabble...inspired by the song Shooting Star. But then, as I began writing, it all gt out of hand and I ended up writing 8K words...What’s more impressive is that I managed to write them in two days, so, that’s a new record for me. Happy late birthday to Wakatoshi, I guess. 

Word Count: 8.6 K

Warnings:  Smut, smutty smut. And curse words. 

If there was a word to describe you, it was: wild. It was incredibly amazing how someone as wild as you managed to be in a relationship with Ushijima Wakatoshi. To his friends seemed only obvious, while the rest of the school thought it was ironic. 

Ushijima Wakatoshi was known for being not very bright, and yet, the ace player in the volleyball team. He was stronger than most, he was disciplined enough to never skip practice, even disciplined enough to always hand in homework even though he wasn't the brightest student. He had a weird fascination with following the rules. And had his mind set on his goal. 

Along the way, he has had a few crushes here and there, but those girls never seemed to stick around for long. These girls followed the imposed image of the 'perfect wife' according to his mother. Gentle, polite, pretty, dedicated to their studies, and supportive. However, that last trait was always put to test, since Ushijima's obsession with Volleyball was usually what made his relationships end. He never truly loved a girl enough to stick with her for long.

At least, not before you. The two of you met thanks to Satori. And it didn't come as a surprise that you and Satori were best friends. You were both equally chaotic and clever. 

And boy, you were clever. Whereas you weren't precisely the gentlest, nor the politests, you sure were dedicated to your studies, and incredibly supportive.

Sure, you constantly came off as rude for addressing people by their first name right after meeting them, and you usually spoke your mind through sarcastic remarks, sometimes hurting people in the process. But god, Ushijima's friends admired your patience since you were always willing to help him with his homework and helped him study, since Ushijima seemed to struggle with complicated classes like vocab and calculus. 

You managed to effortlessly come up with ways to help him learn kanji, and with such easy explanations for calculus. Not only your patience, but your passion when it came to teaching, it didn't surprise anyone when you told them you wanted to be a teacher.

"You're very good at it" Walatoshi said once. 

Your constant presence around Wakatoshi, as well as him constantly relying on you for several things not only made your friendship grow slowly, but a sort of endearment took over you whenever it came to Wakatoshi. Whereas you were sarcastic and sometimes mean to others, you had a terribly obvious soft spot for him. Something even Wakatoshi could tell. 

This different treatment made him feel good, if he said so himself. He liked to be the only one who was immune to your wild mood swings and sometimes hurtful sarcasm. Even between your friends, your jokes sometimes got out of hand, but by this point your friends knew it was in your nature. 

The stoic, serious, and intimidating Ushijima Wakatoshi was the only one safe from the equally intimidating, laidback, explosive you. And soon, this gentle treatment not only got into his head, it slowly made its way to his heart. And after a year and a half of highschool, he admitted his feelings for you, not only to himself, but to Tendou. 

"Oh, shit, I knew this was gonna happen!" Satori laughed. "Oh boy, Semi is gonna be so pissed when he finds out!" Pulling his phone at once, texting Semi at the speed of light.

"Why is that?" Wakatoshi said, hearing the soft clicks Tendo's phone made as he texted. 

"I made a bet with him. He betted [Name]-chan was gonna fall in love first, I said it was going to be you. And for a moment, I thought he was gonna win" Tendo giggled mischievously, proud as if it had been his doing instead of fate.

"Semi betted that she was gonna develop feelings for me first?" Wakatoshi wasn't used to the feeling of his cheeks burning gently, and certainly, he wasn't aware of the fact that he was blushing, very much to Satori's amusement.

"Yes! And actually, she's not far from falling down that hill, so, now that I won my bet, I can help you steal her heart, tiger" Satori winked and hit Wakatoshi gently on the ribs with his skinny elbow.

"You think I need your help?" Wakatoshi asked, completely clueless.

"Well, normally, I'd say yes. But I'm pretty sure if you keep being yourself, she'll eventually be heads over hills for you"  Wakatoshi frowned at this, confused by what Satori meant.

"Why would she be heads over hills?" 

"Oh boy, this is why she finds you cute. It's figure speech, dude. It means she'll be madly in love with you" 

"So, I should just keep being me?" His eyebrows relaxed at this and sighed deeply, relieved.

"Yeah, if you wanna speed that process, ask her out or whatever…I hope Semi sees his phone soon" Satori chuckled sheepishly.

Ushijima never realized how easy it was to be your friend. You were always there whenever he needed a hand, whether if it was for school or if he was dealing with personal issues. To the point of learning basic volleyball skills and knowledge to help him train on the weekends. 

And just as you were always there for him, he always was for you. The thing about being as free spirited as you were, meant you'd have a lot of people chasing after your igniting freedom. And Wakatoshi was the perfect guy to scare off the guys who didn't have good intentions or those who wouldn't take no for an answer. Just like keeping you sane from the school work and pressure of keeping straight A's to keep your scholarship by distracting you, taking you out to play volleyball with him, sometimes he dragged you along his jogs around the streets, sometimes just to hang out in his dorm.

But then the fear washed over him like very few things in life. The fearless Shiratorizawa Monster, afraid of asking his best friend out on a date and possibly crossing the line. What if he ended up breaking your heart in the process? Or if he scared you away? What if things went perfectly fine, but given your nature, his mother and you didn't get along? 

He hated to admit it, but he was terribly attached to his family. And the idea of defying or starting any kind of family drama unsettled him. 

The idea of losing you terrified him even worse, though. And clung to the idea of staying your friend for years and years to come. Everything would be easier if you just stayed friends. Right?

He was afraid of flying too close to the sun. 

At least until he did, and found out his wings weren't made out of wax. Or maybe, he wasn't even flying close to the sun, instead he was chasing after a shooting star. 

His feelings for you got out of hand one night. One blissful night, in which he learned so much about himself as a man. And about you. By the end of the night, he knew that you were the perfect match for him, regardless of what everyone expected of him. By the end of the night, he was yours. and you were his.

The last party before graduating. Before he left Shiratorizawa and joined a professional volleyball team. And before you went to university and majored in history. 

The traditional Third Year Graduation Party took place not so far away from your place, and as expected, this party turned wilder than the one from the previous year, as the tradition dictated. 

Very much against his will, Wakatoshi was dragged to the party by Satori.  And for the first hour he was beyond uncomfortable trying to avoid the drunken people and their fuckery.

"Toshi, you keep disappearing!" You sang upon finding your friend for a fifth time within the same hour.

"I'm sorry, it's not on purpose" He said leaning closer to you so you could hear him among the chaos taking place in such a small house "This much noise and close space makes me uncomfortable" He said.

"C'mon, lets go outside" You said,  grabbing his arm and guiding him through the crowd "I could use some fresh air myself" You walked out the door,  towards the front yard and into the sidewalk away from the people gathered in the garden.

Wakatoshi noticed how your steps were slightly clumsier and your cheeks seemed to be rosier than usual. 

"Are you okay?" He asked, still not sure what was it about you that was different, but definitely noticing something was off. 

"I'm tipsy, and I'm having a good time" You said clinging to his arm as you sat down on the edge of the sidewalk and stared at the sky. "But if I keep drinking, I'll go from tipsy and fun to wasted and cringy, and we do not want that" 

"Oh" Wakatoshi murmured sitting next to you, his shoulder brushing yours.

"It was the vodka. I've drunk sake before, and normally don't get drunk this fast. But a single glass of vodka with juice and I'm already like this" You giggled pointing at your face.

"You want me to take you home?" He asked.

"Nah, I just got here" You sighed looking at your friend. "Unless, you want to get away from here" You said looking into your friend's eyes.

"How did you…"  His voice trailed off.

"Ushijima Walatoshi, I know you, and I can tell you would like to be somewhere else but here. C'mon, let's go home" 

"Didn't you want to stay?"

"I got what I wanted, I got tipsy with cheap foreign alcohol, and I wanted to have fun. I had both, and now, I'd like to have fun with you, Toshi-kun. And if you need to go somewhere else to have fun, then I'll gladly go wherever you go" You smiled, noticing how Wakatoshi smiled softly upon hearing you.

"Isn't your mom home?" He was worried that you might get in trouble for arriving home drunk, however, he forgot your mother was considerably younger than the average, and was a lot more open minded than most moms Wakatoshi knew. 

"She said she was gonna go drinking with her friends from the office, and she told me that as long as I didn't come back drunker than her, then it was all fine" 

"Oh" He purred "You think she'll get drunk?" 

"Of course! Not drunk enough for it to be a problem, but drunk enough to not mind if I get drunk" You giggled.

"You want to get drunk?" 

"No, not really. I'd like to stay tipsy for a few more hours, but I can do that with the sake my mum has at home" 

"Isn't she gonna mind?

"Gosh, stop worrying and let's go! It's gonna be fine, I promise!" 

With a single hop you stood up and offered Wakatoshi your hand to help him up. He chuckled, thinking how easy it was for you to be so carefree when he would be worrying about all the circumstances. He grabbed your hand, more as a courtesy, since he didn't have a single problem standing up, but still felt the urge to feel your small hand in his. 

Once he was standing on his feet, his gut twisted and tickled upon noticing how you didn't let go of his hand. The sweet anxiety drew a wider smile on his face as he walked next to you, still holding onto your hand.  He wondered if it was because you were drunk.

The party was barely a 20 minute walk from your house, so Wakatoshi didn't even have to ask where you were going, as he noticed how you took the way uphill, towards your place. 

The wind was chilly, but not enough for it to be a problem. Besides, you were walking, legs warming up as the street inclined slowly. Still holding your hand, every so often, he'd look at you, blessing his eyes and his heart with the gentle sight of the absentminded smile on your face as you hummed. 

He remembered the many times Semi asked you to sing a song with him and record it, but you always refused since you were shy and only sang when you felt comfortable and only around those you trusted the most. 

"[Name], c'mon, your voice is gorgeous!" Semi said one time he showed you a song he'd written, and Wakatoshi had been there in the dorm when it happened. 

Soon, you kept flattering him with subtle actions. Holding his hand, quietly walking uphill in the middle of the night, and now, the soft humming slowly evolving into singing. Your soft voice singing in a low voice, a song he couldn't name, but thought it was a cute song. 

He didn't say anything until you finished singing with a loud sigh. He looked at you dreamily as you looked at your house slowly appearing on the horizon. 

"That was beautiful" 

"Thank you, Toshi" You whispered, savouring his name on your lips. 

The hill was covered in small white houses, all of them looking pretty similar. In front of the stretching wall of houses, there was a lookout, decorated with a nice iron balcony, and one feet tall concrete cubes following the edge of the sidewalk to keep cars for parking near the edge. 

You walked towards the lookout, stopping before one of the concrete cubes and stepping on one of them. 

No longer feeling tipsy, you effortlessly hopped on top, letting go of Wakatoshi's hand in the process and balancing your arms. However, Wakatoshi wasn't sure if you still felt drunk, and instinctively stretched one of his arms to your waist, helping you balance.

"Easy there," He said.

"It's okay, I got this" you said, resting one of your hands on his shoulder. 

Now standing on the concrete cube, you were taller, shortening the height difference between you and your friend. Not used to this new height, you gazed around you. 

"Is this what it feels like being so tall?" You broke the silence as Wakatoshi looked away from the view and towards you. 

"Yeah, I guess" He chuckled softly, gazing at you. 

You locked stares with his olive eyes, thinking it only made sense how many girls fell for those sweet captivating orbs. Sure, he looked stoic most of the time, still his eyes were beautiful. Even more so when he was smiling, just like he was now. 

The sort of comfortable smile that appeared when he was around his close friends, having a good time, not thinking of responsibilities. It was a unique smile you adored so much. And right now, you had that smile to yourself alone. 

"How nice" You murred as your mind focused on his hand, still on your waist. Feeling the weight and the warmth burning through your skin. "Being this tall. Specially for a guy, tall guys are a blessing, I swear, there's something so stupidly attractive about a tall guy" 

"Well, yeah. But finding shoes of my size is kinda of a problem…" You giggled at his remark. "Trousers too" 

"Oh, I'm sorry. Japan isn't precisely tall-people friendly, is it?" You remarked.

"Yeah" Wakatoshi nodded.

"Toshi" 

"Hmm?" 

"Close your eyes" He looked at you and blinked a few times, confused, curious, before asking.

"Okay. What for?" 

"Listen to the city breathe" You closed your eyes and remained silent, trying to focus on the sweet hums of the city, the traces of the sounds that brought a city alive.

"Sometimes I don't understand what you say" He said bluntly, closing his eyes.

"Me neither. And that's okay" You giggled opening your eyes.

You stared at Ushijima savouring the gentle breeze hitting his face, as he listened closely to the sounds of the city. Not noticing you were staring at him with a stare that seemed to melt into a puddle of adoration. 

You leaned closer to him, kissing the corner of his mouth so delicately, Ushijima took a while to realize what had happened. And once he did, he opened his eyes and gazed at you, noticing the blush on your cheeks as your stare seemed to scan his face bit by bit.

"[Name]..." He whispered.

"Did you know" You cut him off with a soft voice "Satori and Semi had a bet going on?" 

"Ye-yeah…" He admitted.

"Those idiots won't tell me who won. Do you happen to know who did?" You raised an eyebrow, knowing he knew, but had your suspicions that he wouldn't tell you either.

"Yes" He said coldly.

"And?"

"I'm sorry, I'm not—" 

"Of course" You interrupted him once more "I should've known that you'd be on their side" You giggled. "Well, it doesn't matter now, does it?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"I know you like me. And I like you, too. A lot, actually. But always felt a bit scared of saying it" 

Wakatoshi stared at you, wondering where this whole honesty was coming from.  He knew alcohol had this effect in people, but right now you were moving a lot more coordinated and spoke eloquently as always.

"Are you still drunk?" 

"No, not really" You sighed "But, we're graduating next week, and, I promised myself I'd tell you before graduation" 

Something about you enchanted him so much. Your wild, untamed and spontaneous nature, sometimes rubbed off on him. Specially as time went by, he realized he was becoming less and less strict with himself, allowing himself to be spontaneous every once in a while, although, not as frequently as regular people his age were. 

But this time was different. As soon as he thought about it, he acted. He knew that the less he reasoned his thoughts, the easier it'd be to act.

He leaned closer, one of his hands reached your cheek and pulled you closer to him, as he crashed his lips with yours. His lips pressing gently against yours as a surprised hum escaped your lips before giving in to the kiss.

You kissed him back, locking lips and breathing in deeply. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you pulled him closer, eager to feel his body next to yours. He mirrored your movements and squeezed you, snaking his arms around your waist. Very tightly. Such closeness allowed you to feel the rise and fall of his chest as you kissed over and over and over again. He felt the traces of cranberry juice in your breath, though he didn't give it much of a thought, he was far more busy savouring the kiss itself.

The both of you losing all sense of time and orientation. The both of you got lost in the moment, feeling the anxiety build up in your stomach as you remained kissing desperately, as if the world was about to end. 

The kiss that had been haunting him in his dreams finally happened, in a much better way than he ever imagined. Your hands moving across his back, as he felt your fingers brush his hair before you closed your grip on his hair, as your mouth fought for dominance. 

Your tight grip on his hair, along with your tongue teasingly brushing his lip, and your body pressed against his, it all played out like an orchestra. Building the tension, kissing you and holding you close, suddenly wasn't enough. His body urged him for more, in a feeling he knew all too well, but wasn't used to feeling. 

For someone who has had a few girlfriends here and there, none of them ever made him feel like this. For so long he thought love and intimacy weren't as big of a deal as everyone made it out to be. For so long he only thought of his girlfriends as companions, and never really felt the urge to kiss them, to touch them, to hold them close. 

This feeling was too new for him, it made him feel slightly awkward. But you seemed to fully give in and play along with his needy contact. 

You broke the kiss, panting breathless, resting your forehead against Wakatoshi's. 

"Lets go inside" you breathed. 

He nodded, as he wondered what would happen next. He wasn't stupid. He'd seen enough movies and series to know what would happen next. However, he was still so new to the whole thing. Not because he was a virgin, he wasn't. But because sex never appealed to him. The times he'd had sex with his ex girlfriends was mostly out of responsibility, not because he wanted nor felt the urges everyone said teenagers felt. 

However, now everything was different. His heart was racing fast, his mind was clouded, and he felt his blood burning his entire body, especially in awkward areas.

He obediently followed you, as you still clung to his hand. You made your way to your place. Your house was dark, though the dim streetlights filtered through the windows, making it easy to find your way across the blue and yellow halls and towards your bedroom. 

You stopped briefly in the kitchen, where you let go of Wakatoshi's hand and turned on the light. 

"Can I offer you something? Anything? Something to eat, something to drink?" You asked politely. 

"A glass of water would be nice" 

You  nodded and grabbed a couple of glasses and filled them with water silently, feeling slightly nervous at the thought of taking Wakatoshi to your bedroom. 

Not because it was the first time. In fact, he'd spent enough weekends at your place, as you helped him study for tests. Sometimes in a big group, sometimes just the two of you. He wasn't a stranger to your house, nor to your room, not even to your bed, since he'd constantly sit on your bed while studying, and even sometimes he'd fall asleep and nap. 

But this was completely different. Even kissing him felt slightly weird. Not in a bad way. In fact, you'd been fantasizing about that moment for a long while now. But, the idea of taking him to your room in this context made you anxious. Almost as if you were a virgin all over again. 

You handed him his glass and jerked your head, as if telling him to follow you through the stairs and towards your room. 

Wakatoshi definitely liked your room. He always felt at peace there. It was minimal, yet, everything about it screamed your name. It felt like a second home to him.

With barely any furniture. Just a single night stand, standing tall next to the mattress on the ground. Several piles of stacked books working as tables for random trinkets you've been collecting along the way. A small coffee table next to your bed which you used as a desk with a lot of stationary messily lying around. Despite spending the weekends in the Shiratorizawa dorms, your room smelled a lot of your perfume, and that was probably his favorite part of your room. A smell he resembled a lot to home. A smell he was so eager to get drunk of.

He followed you silently towards your room, as you walked inside, placing the glass on the coffee table. Wakatoshi replicated your movements. As you sat on the edge of the bed, you waited for Wakatoshi to do the same. And once he did, you nervously wrapped your arms around him, and brought him closer, kissing him once more. 

The same hunger as before lit up instantly, as the anxiety building up in his belly only made it all worse. He clung to you, desperately, as if he was about to lose you. 

A moan escaped your throat in the middle of the fiery kiss, prompted by his strong arms squeezing you against him. That moan made his back shiver, as he felt a rather familiar heat grow in his crotch. 

You leaned back, without breaking the kiss, and your arms still around his shoulders, you brought him along with you as you laid on the bed. Wakatoshi leaned closer, resting his weight on one of his forearms against the mattress, and using his free hand to cling to your waist.  

"[Name]" he purred in a gentle voice, breaking the kiss and looking into your eyes.

Swallowed by the darkness, your eyes shone with the reflection of the streetlight as you looked at him both devouring him with a tender stare. Inviting him to keep going. Only making his whole body get hotter and hotter. He wondered if your heart beated as fast as his, and if you were starting to feel as horny as he was. 

Horny, he thought. Just thinking about it made him feel weird. Dirty. He'd never really felt horny. And now he was not only feeling that way, but because of you. His best friend. He wasn't supposed to be feeling like this because of one of his friends, was it? He knew it was wrong. But kissing you felt so right. The dichotomy only made him feel more and more turned on. Maybe it was wrong to feel horny for one of your friends, but he'd been a good boy and followed the rules for as long as he can remember. Maybe, going bad from time to time wasn't so bad. He felt an urge to misbehave and be spontaneous. He felt an urge to take you and make you his. 

"Lay down" You said sitting up as he looked at you, puzzled.

"What?" 

"You heard me! lay down, big boy" You said playfully as Wakatoshi did as you told. 

You thought of crawling on top of him before it occurred to you to go to your mother's room and look for something in her drawers. You stood on your feet and looked at Toshi as his olive eyes seemed to shine in golden tones amongst the darkness painted with dim lights.

"Give me a minute, okay? I won't take long" you said shyly. 

"Where are you—" 

"Make yourself at home!" You said before rushing out of your room and into your mother's across the hall. 

Being a single mother, and having your only child attend a school with dorms sure gave you the liberty of bringing partners into your home without worrying that your child will break in, ruining the intimacy. And you thought it was great. How awkward must it be to arrive home and find your mother banging some dude? Besides, you knew where her condom stash was. 

You looked through her drawer and grabbed a few condoms for yourself before rushing back in the room. The anxiety building a knot in your throat as the condoms seemed to weight a lot more than they usually did. As you walked inside, you found Wakatoshi comfortably  lying on your bed, eyes closed, and breathing in deeply, getting drunk with your scent. 

The weep of the old wooden door caught his attention as he saw you walk inside, closing the door behind you. You approached the bed without saying anything. Kneeling, you put the condoms over the coffee table and took off your shirt without saying anything. 

Wakatoshi's heart skipped several beats, as he forgot to breathe upon seeing you. Your chest now exposed him, making him feel thirsty, as his eyes traveled up your belly and to your chest. Realising he'd been staring at your breast, still hidden under a bra, he looked up, meeting your stare. 

Speechless, his body paralysed briefly. And you began crawling on top of him. He felt his body begin shaking softly in anticipation, as his head felt lighter. He was nervous. He was excited, and delighted.

His hands found your waist and pulled you towards him, before trapping your lips in a breathless kiss. His digits were quick to travel across your back, feeling goosebumps surfacing your skin. Playing with the hook of your bra, and the delicate straps on your shoulders, he felt the urge to tear your clothes off at once, but at the same time, he wanted to taste the whole scene. 

The heat was getting out of hand, as he broke the kiss and pushed you aside gently so he could take his shirt off  before lying back on the mattress, and pulling you on top of him once more.

The blissful moment he felt your weight fall over his naked chest, all traces of anxiety and shy insecurity were gone. Now replaced with a needy urge he still felt ashamed of admitting. Caught in another hot wet kiss,  you noticed Ushijima struggling to unhook your bra. You giggled into his lips before helping him out and taking your bra off. 

He broke the kiss with a soft grunt. He sat up, as you followed him, sitting on his lap. He kissed your neck and your shoulders. You whimpered, whispering his name as he kissed and bit your skin like a hungry animal. 

His hands made their way to your breasts as he held them firmly, squeezing them, and feeling the satisfaction of stealing a loud moan from your lips.

"You like this?" He asked, genuinely curious, as you nodded breathlessly. 

"Don't stop, Toshi" you breathed as he kissed your jaw. "Toshi" 

 He growled, as your nipples puckered between his fingers, teasingly pulling and squeezing, as his name continued to echo the room between moans.

"I like hearing you call my name" He purred against the skin of your neck.

"Oh, you're in for a ride, babe. I'm just getting started" You chuckled. 

Hearing you call him that made his heart squeeze dearly. Babe. He never actually had his ex girlfriends call him anything but by his first name. God, his girlfriends were so unbearably polite, and his relationships were so short, they never got to stick around long enough to give him any sort of pet name. 

"You okay?" You asked upon noticing how he had been staring at you for a few seconds, as he tried to assimilate those feelings of passion and endearment consuming him. 

"Yeah" He purred "You're beautiful" 

"Gosh, are you always this sweet to your girlfriends?" You whimpered kissing the corner of his mouth.

"Just you," He said, closing his eyes, enjoying the trail of delicate kisses you left across his face. 

"Kiss me, Toshi" You murmured "I want you so bad, babe" 

His arms around you squeezed you once more, as he desperately kissed you once more.

"You've got me, darling" he whispered between kisses.

Wakatoshi swallowed your moans into the kiss, as his hands kept traveling up and down your body. Your warmth around him, your smell caressing him delicately, and your lips melting into his, with the purest of feelings melting all around you. 

He had never felt like this before. He had never felt so eager to feel someone against his burning skin. He never felt the desire to pleasure someone else for his own pleasure. This newfound passion burned so good, he could understand how people could easily become addicted to sex.

He broke the kiss, cupping your cheek in one of his big hands, as he kissed your cheeks, going down your jaw and neck. He stopped there and snuggled his face on the crook of your neck, and took a deep breath, feeling like the world was spinning too fast. He felt euphoric, ecstatic, marveled. 

"What is it?" You broke the silence, brushing his hair with your fingers.

"I'm enjoying this" He purred, squeezing you once more, as you kissed his head and hugged him back.

"You're adorable" You admitted.

"Thanks," He said, satisfied.

"Toshi?" You broke the hug, looking at him in the eye, and feeling your cheeks blush at the thought of what you were about to ask. This made you feel particularly silly, since you'd done this several times before, and you hadn't felt this shy in a long time.

"Yes, darling?" He said looking into your eyes.

"Let me do something for you" 

"What is it?" 

"Do you ever not ask questions?" Your voice suddenly was loud with amusement.

"I don't think so, no" He chuckled awkwardly. 

"Such a curious mind, are you not? How precious, how delicious" You sang.

"You're talking weirdly again, [Name]" He said amused by how dreamily you looked when you suddenly started talking like that.

"I'm not gonna apologise for spending my free time reading poetry and writing poetic prose" You snapped, idly playing with the button of his jeans.

"You should write a book" he said, noticing the way your fingers were moving, trying to delicately undo his jeans.

"Oh, I'm gonna. Just you wait" He felt nervous and hot as your fingers lingered in his crotch, as he felt his erection keep throbbing in anticipation.

"I've never asked you but, what do you write about?" He stuttered, trying to distract himself from the gentle touch of your hands against him.

"So many years of friendship and you've never asked. That is true. That's true for you and pretty much all of my friends, except for Semi. But because he writes too. Although, he writes music. I write about my life and the people in it" Using your speech to distract him and to calm your nerves, you finally brought yourself to undo his jeans, stealing a quick growl from Wakatoshi.

"Have you written something about me?" He asked, feeling his head turn feverish with desire, as your fingers dragged the zipper down, releasing his still clothed erection.

"If I had a coin for every single question that comes from your beautiful lips…" Following your words, your eyes locked on his swollen lips, as you bit yours, feeling your heart beat hard against your chest "Lay down, babe" 

"[Name], what are you—" 

"Relax, if you trust me, close your eyes" Your voice was once more as a soft seductive purr. And as Wakatoshi did as you told, his face blushed, burning aggressively. 

"I trust you with everything I've got" Your touch caressing his erection as you pulled down his underwear, enough for his dick to spring free. 

"God, you're big" You gasped breathless.

"Ah, [Name], you-you don't have to—" He began, and stopped, gasping, when he felt your lips gently lick and kiss the head.

"But I want this. I want you to enjoy the night" Your breath hit his sensitive skin, as his breath shook nervously.

"I've been enjoying this since the moment I saw you" He admitted, his face blushed and his eyes shut tight as he felt your mouth taking him in, slowly at first "Fuck, [Name]" 

You kept going, trying your best to slowly make your way down his length. Your jaw was beginning to feel numb, as you painfully bobbed your head. Motivated by the sweet obscene sounds Wakatoshi let out. Your name echoing every now and then. Looking up, you managed to gaze at Toshi, peeking through your lashes, as the image of his face flushed, consumed by lust, only added to the heat building between your legs. 

As you got used to the gagging, and his length, it became easier for you to keep going. Sometimes swallowing to tighten your grip around his dick, and making him grunt louder than ever. His hand played with your hair, as you kept going and going. His heart beating faster by the second as he began feeling his orgasm approaching. 

"[Name], stop" He gasped breathless "Come here, darling. I-Im close" He whined, however, you ignored him and sped up your pace "Ple-please, baby" He begged. 

He pushed his head back, rocking his hips, making his cock go deeper into your mouth. Hands gripping firmly to the bed sheets. His body shaking in ecstasy, as he felt closer and closer to his release. He came inside your mouth, as his warm cum tickled the back of your mouth as it shot down your throat. You swallowed, savoring his salty bitter release. The sound of his moans tickling your belly.

"Did you like it?" You coughed, your voice raspy.

"Ye-yeah" He gasped "You didn't listen to me, though" 

"Oh, I didn't have any intention of doing so" You admitted, smiling satisfied at him.

"I've never had anyone do that to me" He said, finally catching his breath, as the world regained its focus again and he saw your cheeky smile.

"Well" you shrugged "you had a thing for sweet and shy virgin girls, so, it shouldn't come as a surprise" 

"You aren't like that," He continued.

"Of course not" 

"Come here, it's my turn" His gaze suddenly turned darker, sending shivers down your spine as you did as he said.

He hooked an arm around your waist and swiftly threw you to the mattress as he got up on his knees and took off his jeans along with his underwear before leaning down and doing the same to you. 

His fingers lingered on the hem of your panties once he took off your jeans and proceeded to kiss your belly. His lips drawing soft patterns on your skin as his fingers played with the fabric of your panties as you gasped and gasped in anticipation. 

He began pulling down your panties, and felt his hit breath close to your sex as you bit your lip, wondering what did he have in mind. 

He kissed your folds before one of his fingers began exploring your slit, as his lips and tongue focused on your clit.

"[Name], you're so wet" he purred before kissing your clit once more.

"Yeah, well...that's your fault, pretty boy" you gasped as one of his fingers effortlessly slid inside you, stretching your walls. 

He moaned against your skin, upon feeling your warmth contract around his fingers, as a second digit made its way inside. 

"Toshi," you cried, running your hands through his hair as he looked up. His now lustful honey eyes looking at you like a predator gazing at its prey "Toshi, that feels so good" you said breathlessly before collapsing your head on the pillow. 

God, what were you doing to him? This was so unlike him. He was usually so quiet, so polite, so squared, always playing by the rules with a weird fascination. But now, he was acting on pure instinct. Your smell, your warmth, the sound of your voice,  it all was driving him crazy. He was letting his most primitive judgment take over as he mindlessly pleasured you with his tongue and fingers making you reach your orgasm. 

"To-Toshi" You whined feeling the buildup of your climax, tightening your grip on his hair and arching your back, shaking uncontrollably as your sight blurred, the loudest of moans escaped your throat as everything began to burn in the most delicious of ways. 

Your walls squeezing his fingers, trapping him, as he bit your clit gently, making you moan even louder due to the overstimulation. 

He smiled proudly at himself, as you returned from your high. Glad that he'd made you cum so effortlessly, feeling so unbearably turned on by your needy cries. He pulled his fingers out of you, covered in slick and licked them clean before crawling on top of you. 

You were quick to wrap your arms around him and pull him close. Desperately kissing his lips in a passionate messy kiss. He could tell you were breathless, and completely undone underneath him, but still needy, clinging to him desperately as you wrap your legs around his hips and bring him closer. 

"[Name]" he gasps, feeling your wet folds rubbing and dripping all over his erection accidentally, thinking he might lose control any time and just take you raw. "Do you have—" 

"Coffee table" you breathe before he can even finish.

He moves quickly and swiftly off of you, grabbing one of the condoms and opening it hastily. 

"Wait, let me do this" you say with a lewd voice, as Wakatoshi gazes at you. Playfully you take the condom off his hands and gently run your fingers through his erection. The idea of taking all of him both excited and terrified you, and tried not to think much about it by slowly unfolding the condom along his length, your fingers lingering teasingly and tickling him as he growled lowly. 

"God, [Name], what're you doing to me?" He purred leaning down and kissing you feverishly as once more you wrapped your legs around his waist and he positioned himself. "Can I?" 

"Fuck yes. Yes, yes, please" you begged, as he pushed his shaft inside your folds, slowly, gently. 

He knew he was a big guy. Big enough to not being able to fully go inside without hurting his girlfriend in turn. So, he expected you to tell him when you'd had enough of his length. However, you didn't. The deeper he went, the more you clawed your nails to his biceps. 

"When you want me to stop, just say it" 

"No, I want all of you" You whined, making his erection throb inside you 

"Doesn't it hurt?"  He purred, his eyes looking into yours.

"It does, but it feels so good. Please don't stop, Toshi, keep going" You breathed "Please"  

He felt a shiver run down his back as he kept going. Your moans getting louder and your voice going a few notes higher, your face blushed, eyes shut. He was captivated by your look. You'd gone from enchanting and teasing siren to a completely submissive and shy doll. You gasped his name once he fully went inside, enjoying your warmth all along his dick. 

He pulled out slowly before thrusting back in at the same speed as before. Once you'd gotten used to his length, you were dripping wet with arousal and opened your eyes to meet his. 

"Toshi, faster" you whispered with the neediest of voices, tickling his gut.  

"Darling I—" 

"Babe, please. I'm gonna be fine" Hearing the sweet sound of your voice dripping with lust made it hard for him to disobey. 

And as he sped up, your moans did too. He was beginning to feel a loss of control, as his thrust not only sped up, but became stronger. Your moans, washed with pleasure, soon got mixed with painful wines. Upon hearing the first one, he stopped at once. 

"I-I'm sorry...are you—" He whispered. 

"Yeah. Keep going. Toshi, it feels so fucking good, I swear. Don't stop babe" You begged as he began moving once more, pounding you, just like before. Stretching you, hitting you in the right places, as your toes curled un pleasure. 

"Fuck, [Name]" Wakatoshi purred against your ear bwfore kissing your neck. "No girl has ever taken all of me before" 

"Cowards" You sighed, swallowing a moan "You know what that means?" 

Wakatoshi brushed his nose against yours and looked into your eyes, drowned in lust, with clear traces of affection melting together. 

"What?" 

"You're mine, and only mine" You cupped his face in your hands and brought him close to you. Kissing him in a rather sweet kiss, as he kept thrusting in and out.

"That's fine by me" He said between breaths before kissing you once more. As you moaned into his mouth, you swallowed his low grunts, both of your passions burning together. 

You broke the kiss, and locked.eyes with him as he pulled out ready to lush his length back in

"And I'm yours, Wakatoshi" You said, before a loud moan escaped your lips as Toshi filled you up, stronger than before. His heart squeezing, as he stole a breathless kiss from your lips. 

He whispered your name between kisses as his pace quickened. Your moans getting progressively louder and louder, as sweet nothings escaped his lips. Hypnotizing you, your hearts beating fast and synchronized. Your nails clawing on his skin, as he felt his orgasm build up once more. Giving in to the sound of your moans, and the arching of your back, it didn't take long for him to reach his second release. He came, burying his face in your neck as you gasped for air.

"Toshi, please. Don't stop. I'm close" 

"[Name]" He panted as he sped up, stronger and faster than before. Your arms around his shoulders squeezed, as your nails dug into his skin. His name escaping your lips in tasty moans as you felt your core burn. Just like before, your walls tightened. He groaned loudly, feeling how your core closed in around his erection, squeezing him deliciously as you rode your orgasm. He kissed your neck, as your back and neck arched. 

Your grip softened, as your body relaxed, breathing deeply, trying to catch your breath. Wakatoshi kissed you, tenderly, as you regained focus of the world. Still inside you, you tightened your legs around his hips to keep him from slipping out. You brushed his hair, melting your lips into his in a sweet gentle kiss. 

He wished to remain like this forever. Just the both of you, caught in an euphoric ecstasy. Vulnerable, and exposed, clinging to that moment with sleepy kisses and sweet nothings. He finally slipped out and lied in bed next to you.  Wrapping his arms around you, still wanting to feel every inch of your body against his. Agitated breaths filling the silence in the room, as fingers entwined mindlessly. Legs tangled. 

Wakatoshi had never felt this much bliss in this entire life. He could stay like this forever, holding you close to him. You stared into each other's eyes, understanding how each other felt, without the need for words. He wondered if this was what people called intimacy. He felt so incredibly vulnerable, however, he knew everything was going to be okay. He felt safe and comfortable with you, and wondered if you felt as vulnerable as him.

"[Name]" wakatoshi broke the silence "didn't that...hurt?" 

"It did, but it felt so good. Toshi, you have no idea how much I enjoyed that" You sighed, snuggling your face against his neck

"Oh, god. Good. I was worried I'd hurt you" He sighed.

"Did you?" 

"Huh?" He looked at you clueless, suddenly forgetting what you'd just said.

"Enjoy it?" You asked. 

"I've never had sex like that before" Ghb e murmured looking away from your eyes.

"Define that" you giggled.

"It was great. It was different to what I'm used to. I really enjoyed it" 

"What are you used to?" Wakatoshi remained pensative for several seconds, recalling the memories of the times he'd sex with his exes. 

"Shy, silent, a bit...robotic" 

"Damn, Toshi. Did you actually like any of the girls you fucked?" You snapped as Wakatoshi looked at you in the eye.

"You" he said bluntly, as you felt yourself blush wildly in a single second.

"Other than me, silly. But thank you"

"I-I...I think so. I dont know. I've never liked a girl as much as I like you, that much is true as well" 

"Terrible decision, really…" You chuckled.

"Are you kidding me? You're perfect, despite what everyone says about you. You're perfect for me, [Name]. I like you, and trust you, and really enjoy our company...” He muttered “I don’t feel awkward after having sex with you, and I enjoyed it at all. For once I had fun and didn't feel like a chore nor..."

"I feel bad for your exes, Toshi. But at the same time not. If they had a taste of this, I'm pretty sure they would've refused to let you go so easily. So, I'm glad I don't have to share this experience with anyone of them" 

"Does that mean you're not gonna let me go so easily?"

"I'm not letting you go, period. Unless you want to, of course. But if I wasn't going to let you go, as a friend. After this...I-I...you get my point"

He didn't. But he could tell you were feeling uncomfortable by how easily you became speechless. He wondered what had gone through your mind to make you go silent and shy in a second.

"You're far too precious to me to forget about you. You've always been."

"God, so that's why all of your little fans and your exes hated me. You always found the time to hang out with me even when you spent the entire day training prepping for Nationals, didn't you?" 

"Before tonight, I already knew I didn't want to lose you. After tonight, I'm sure I don’t want to kiss, nor hold any other girl who isn’t you" 

"Toshi, call me crazy, but that's not news, but…" 

"Yeah?" 

"I've liked you for almost two years now, and...That’s a lot, you know? I’ve never had feelings for someone for this long...and—" You stopped, feeling how your heart suddenly went crazy.

"What is it?"

"God, if this were happening to me, I'd definitely think if this was a big red flag, how much lower can I sink?" You giggled nervously before looking back into Wakatoshi's eyes "I think I'm in love with you" 

"I think…" Wakatoshi muttered as his brain quickly jumped and did the math, still processing what you'd told him "Tendo lost the bet" 

"What?"  You kept laughing awkwardly, trying to keep your panic under control.

"When I told Tendo I had feelings for you, he got all excited, saying he had won the bet…" Wakatoshi recalled. "But that was a year and a half ago. But I'm starting to think it was actually Semi who won the bet" 

"Oh...okay…" You blinked confused. "Are you gonna tell them?"

"Does it matter? [Name], I honestly do not care who's the rightful winner of that bet" 

Wkatoshi lifted your chin with his finger and leaned closer, sealing his lips with yours in a tender kiss.A kiss you wished had lasted a little longer. Such a sweet, delicate kiss, long enough to leave you breathless instantly, and short enough to leave you wanting more. The sort of kiss you wished to get every day from him. 

"I love you too, [Name]” He purred, his nose brushing against yours, as you savoured not only the aftertaste of his kiss, but savouring his words. 

You leaned closer, stealing a second hiss from him, as he, very obediently kissed you back. Wrapping your arms around him, you brought him closer, as he groaned softly into your lips, adjusting himself. Slowly, crawling on top of you once more, you wrapped our legs around his waist, and your arms around his back, desiring to feel his weight on top of you once more. He breathed your name between kisses, as his fingers mindlessly played with your hair, as both your lips kept dancing together, slowly, tenderly, passionately. 

The fear and the anxiety had been long gone. Now, the consuming and intrusive thoughts of how wrong it was to be kissing your best friend were now replaced by a comfortable sense of security, as your love confessions played in each other’s head. The heat kept increasing and increasing, just like the sound of our moans and grunts. It was much less awkward this second round, maybe was the lack of clothes, or maybe the fact that you already knew how the other felt. This newfound intimacy was everything Wakatoshi needed. He loved the feeling of reciprocity, as the same desperation to feel you closer, not only irradiated from him, but also from you. The physical closeness as well as the emotional closeness pulled you together like a tender hug. 

You wasted the night away learning more about each other on a physical level. What each other liked, what you didn't. Holding each other close, tasting each other, over and over again until the both of you were completely satisfied and exhausted. You soon fell asleep in each other's arms. 

Wakatoshi knew he didn't want to spend his nights with any other girl who wasn't you. He didn't want to kiss any other girl who wasn't you. And god, he felt like the luckiest man alive. By the end of the night, he was yours. and you were his.

[johnkrrasinski]

𝐄𝐱𝐢𝐥𝐞

Chapter 4: Leaving Out the Side Door

full masterlist // series masterlist // commission open // support my work

Pairings: Dark!Steve Rogers (in future chapters) x Reader

Word Count: 2,325

Summary: Steve Rogers; a Hollywood A-lister and your clandestine occasional hookup. Best friends since childhood, but people change and friendships fall out. Now you were merely strangers with benefits. What happens when one day you stopped being his doormat to be a better man’s queen? The selfish Steve Rogers would not like it. How far is he willing to go to get his favorite possession back?

Warnings: smut, non-con/dub-con, dark Steve (in later chapter), angst, Steve Rogers is an asshole in this one, no redeeming qualities. (MUST BE 18+)

A/N: this series is dedicated to the lovely @belovedcherry​​​ who commissioned this story and developed the concept. thank you for being a friend when i truly needed it. i’m really glad that you trusted me to write this story for you. with all my heart, i sincerely hope you like it. this series will be updated every day.

You were on your knees with your hands tied behind your back as he vigorously thrust into you. Your heartbeat pounded in your rib cage and you began to feel numb from the hours he had fucked you. Steve was relentless when he was chasing his own climax, greedily used you as a tool; giving zero fucks about your pleasure or your discomfort, to dump his load in.

Steve didn’t need to see your face or hear your consent. He could go on and on for hours and still not feel satisfied. One thing that you had learned from this being in this dead-end friends with benefits thing with Steve Rogers is that his stamina was relentless. And he wouldn’t think twice about getting what he needed whenever he needed it.

Steve impaled you as your face was squeezed into the pillow, you could hear the squelching noises from the ceaseless cycle of disposing his semen in you and then pushed it back in when he was ready for the next round. Your head began to feel dizzy and your visions turned hazy. You’d tell him to stop because you couldn’t take it anymore, but you knew you didn’t have any strength left in your body to do so.

So you ascended from your body and let him take the wheel; allowing him to go as fast as he wished. He kept hammering until he felt your cunt clenching around him and his cock pulsated, then the line blurred as the coil inside you burst, withering every nerve in your body.

“Ah, fuck.” He grunted. He stayed still inside you until he felt himself softening and then he retreated.

Steve unbound your wrists and he threw himself on the other side of the bed. You knew better than turning to his side and cuddle on his chest unwarranted. He always expected you to get up and get out of his house instantly because he either had another place to attend and didn’t want to see you still here when he comes home or he was ready for another hookup.

Every now and then, you’d let him use you to fulfil his needs and you’d volunteer in cleaning his apartment afterwards. Even after those countless nights where you weren’t the one who made a mess of his sheets.

Ever since that night in your dorm; the first time you were reborn into a blossomed woman and the first time Steve paved the way of traversing to the electric piquancy of venereal act for you, you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t stop letting him through your door or drive to his place at three in the morning just so he could let off some steam.

Every time you try to say no, he’d always pay you a visit unannounced. He’d paralyze you with his words and freeze you with his unchaste touches. “Shh, let me make you feel good, baby. You just gotta surrender yourself to me.”

You’d try to push him away but your brittle tenacity was unavailing. Fast forward to five years later, when you finally got your degree and life vagabondized to unexpected places, your sex life was still staying still in one spot.

You were recruited by National Institute of Mental Health as their project manager. You were possibly the youngest candidate to occupy this position but they were very impressed by your resume and your interview that they didn’t have any better choice than giving you the job.

You loved it, you excelled at what you do. Helping people and tending for their mental health was the aim of your life. You had a clear vision of how you were going to initiate a concept, plan a strategy and execute the plan. You respected your colleagues and vice versa. It was a suitable environment for you to work in and you enjoyed every minute of it.

Your best friend aka your former roommate, Natasha was your rock. You still talked to her everyday and she’d always text you in case she couldn’t call. You’d exchange stories about how your days went and she’d always send you pictures or videos of her adorable cat, Liho. It always carved a smile on your face.

The same goes for Wanda, although with her busy schedule of graduate school and supervised experience made things a little difficult for you to stay in touch, she still updated every nugatory detail of her life. You loved her and you missed her excruciatingly. You had driven to New Haven during some weekends to see her and spend time with her, but when the weekend was over, you had to return to New York because your job was waiting for you.

They were your two most endeared girls and you couldn’t wait for the day you finally introduce them to each other. Natasha and Wanda had said hi to each other a few times back when you were still living in the same dorm but, you really wanted to spend time with the two of them at the same time. They would totally click.

But if anyone asks you about your love life? Well, how could you explain something that was nonexistent?

Unless “friends” with benefit counts for something…

A bell on your apartment dinged and you reached for the door. A man in black with purple nuances uniform showed up with a package in his hands. “Miss Y/L/N?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“Here’s your delivery. Sign here please.” He handed you a piece of paper to draw your signature on and you accepted it without question, knowing full well it was another extravagant gift from Steve. Yep, that Steve.

The Steve Rogers.

A Brooklyn-born movie star of various blockbuster films, a remarkable singer and the face of Calvin Klein’s campaign this year… and Gucci Guilty’s last year.

The notorious womanizer but it was all good because he was the man. When you had starred alongside Leonardo DiCaprio and posed next to Oprah, who would give a shit if you never stopped playing the field, right?

And because he was The Steve Rogers, he could’ve spent his money on any lavish item and he could’ve put his dick wherever he wanted it. That included you, being the object of his wealthiness and his manliness.

How many times had you tried to reason with him when he constrained you to come over after a drunken hookup with a twenty-something model to clean up the mess and take out the trash? Perhaps just a few numbers exceeding the number of times he’d play the most charming man in the world only to forget your existence until he wanted you again.

So your feet innately transported you to your car, wearing the brand-new crimson red, bodycon dress with deep V-neck that displayed your cleavage, spaghetti straps baring your arms and a backless design that made you shiver due to the crisp air and drove to a place you had grown so accustomed to.

And this was the God knows how many times you were corrupted on his bed again. You had been so busy with your upcoming project that NIMH was ready to announce but you just couldn’t find it in yourself to resist the urge to come over to his place.

You stood on your wobbly feet, cleaned yourself up and see yourself out. Wouldn’t want to keep another mistress waiting in line…

Three weeks have passed since you last slept with Steve Rogers. Whispers on the streets chirped that he had been occupied with shooting a new film, erotic thriller slash mystery genre. Seems appropriate.

You yourself had been snowed under your work. The fundraiser event that NIMH was holding had been wearing you down but it was all worth it when the show was on. Negotiating with sponsorships, seeking donations and managing ticket sales were not easy, and it was all part of your responsibility because you were the boss, but you aced it anyway.

You were also responsible to hire professional entertainers and well, knowing that you got some connections to a well-known actor, of course, he was the first name on your list. But due to schedule conflicts, he couldn’t make it. It wasn’t a problem though, you still had a long list of names; film stars, movie producers, musicians, directors, moguls, etc.

You stood in your black sequin dress at the corner of the venue, inhaling all the sedulity and gumption you had invested in this event for the past couple of months. A part of you was secretly hoping that Steve would be here to see it, but you quickly eliminated those thoughts away.

9th-grade summer break. Upon the verdant hills overlooking the tranquil lake below; the moon’s faint glow ricochets on the water.

“What do you wanna be when you grow up, y/n?” his head reclined on his the palms of his hand, arms sprawled out like a butterfly’s wings.

“I wanna… Help people. My mom is a nurse and my whole life I watched her taking care of people she’d never met and I wanna have her big heart. I wanna do something that saves people.” you beheld the twinkling stars in the crepuscular sky, privily prayed that every word would come true.  

“You wanna be a nurse like her too?” His eyebrow raised.

“I don’t know… Maybe I’ll host a charity event or something and then I’ll use all the money for those who need it. It looks cool in the movies.”

“When I make it, I’ll come to your event and help raise the money too! People would be interested in giving money to celebrities, right?” the credence glinted in his eyes.

“But the money will not be for you, doofus.”

“Yeah, I know!” he chided. “I wouldn’t take a single cent even if I could. My mom taught me that if I were given the chance to put others first before me… I should and I will respect her legacy.”

You watched the host and your project leader, Tony Stark stood behind the acrylic podium and he greeted the crowd a good evening. He opened his speech, cajoling the guests with his words to share a little bit of their wealth as many as possible and closed it with a cordial adieu.

You made your way to one of the most respected guests; Benjamin Woods was sitting on the fifth table. Two times Oscar nominee and you were jittery to talk to him, but in this line of work, you were trained to be confident and act like one of the elites. So you weren’t going to freak out like an obsessive fan, you gotta keep it cool and classy. Plus, during the briefing, you were told to fraternize with as many of the guest as possible, persuade them to help us reach the goal.

You had your eyes set on the target until you bumped on a six-foot man, spilling the martini in his hand all over your dress. It caused a few heads turning but that was the last thing you cared about right now. “Shit!” you squawked.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry miss.” a British accent was hinted.

You grabbed a napkin from the nearest table to wipe away the stain but of course, it was futile. He offered a hand by saying “here, let me help.”

“No, no it’s fine, I’ll-” you looked up to see a handsome man with a pair of grey, slightly blue and green fused at the core. His dark brown hair matched the stubble covering his entire jaw and you were captivated by the work of art that was his face. Man, what a gorgeous creature. “…Manage.”

“I’m truly sorry, I must really stop reading through my emails while walking.”

“Don’t worry about it, sir. It happens.”

“Can I at least get you a drink? I’d feel really bad if I don’t do anything to compensate for my error.”

You averted your gaze from him to the person you really wanted to talk to but that could wait. You still got a few more hours to properly introduce yourself. “Yeah, why not?”

“Splendid.” You both walked toward the bar and sat on the stools. The next thing you knew, you had spent the last one hour talking and acquainting with this man. Apparently, he was the executive director of Filmmakers Without Borders where funding films and new media projects that aligned with themes of social justice, empowerment and cultural exchange was the prime focus of his job. He believed that if he could support ideas that would make the world a better place, he’d do it without a second thought.

He was also a big traveler. He loved seeing magical places in foreign countries, he was keen on exploring new cultures and learning new languages even if he could only recollect a few basic words. He claimed that he had traveled to nine countries in Asia and he planned to travel across Europe, his so-called home, once he had conquered the omnifarious continent.

And what enthralled your heart the most about him was that he was a proud father of two adorable dogs; a greyhound and a pomeranian and a benign Siberian cat. He spoke about them so fondly. He showed you pictures of them and he said that he’d love for you to meet them. Oh man, was that a subtle invitation to come over to his place soon in the future?

He was a real gentleman, courtesy and multifaceted were the proper words to describe this man, and you had only known him for one hour. Eventually, duty calls and you still had a role to play in this event, but before you could hop off the stool, he had asked you for your number and you gladly gave it to him. You had a feeling that this wasn’t farewell but rather, an incipience. The question is… What could it be of?

[zebrabaker]

Families Lost and Found; Part 2

SORRY!!! I got busy visiting family, and sort of forgot about this!!

By the time Marinette was out of the shower, she had come to a conclusion. She would keep Jason here at the penthouse under the pretense of him ‘recovering’ until she got a response from Auntie Talia. If she didn’t get a response in a week, she would send the man back to wherever he came from. If she did, and the man was trustworthy, she’d take him to the family compound at the outer edge of the city. The compound was a massive fenced in collection of housing, dedicated solely to keeping the younger members of the Family safe when they weren’t in school, and to house those who were…under Familial custody. Throwing on a pair of pajama shorts, a t-shirt, and her favorite fuzzy socks, Marinette wrapped her hair in a towel and sighed. What was she getting herself into?

Making her way back out to the living room, Marinette sighed when she saw Jason fast asleep on the couch again. There was a takeout container with traces of white sauce sitting on the table in front of him. From the looks of it, he had likely eaten and fallen fast asleep. If she let him sleep, he would wake up with a stomach ache, but if she woke him, he might try to attack her again. Then again, the threat of potential danger had never stopped her before. Shrugging, Marinette grabbed the trash and the container of her food and moved them to the kitchen, dropping the trash into the bin as she went past. With a sigh, Marinette stood at the back of the couch and reached out, preparing to shake Jason’s shoulder. His hand lashed out and grabbed her wrist in a crushing grip, making her yelp.

“So it wasn’t a dream.” He grumbled, sitting up and rubbing at the bridge of his nose.

“Nope!” Marinette chirped, tugging her wrist free of his hand. “You can crash later; we have a few things to deal with for now. We need to give you a background and a fake identity, and figure out why Auntie sent you to find me. C’mon, my office is this way. We can work on those documents, while I call someone to bring you a change of clothes and call for Doctor Yang. I never got a chance to check you for injuries, but you don’t seem to be in too much pain.” As she babbled (a nervous habit that she’d never outgrown) she led him to her home office, a large room with a bay of windows facing the Seine.

Jason paused at the doorway, assessing the room, probably looking for exits and possible weapons. Good, that was one point for him being who he said he was. The first thing the League trained into their recruits was an intense paranoia. Then again, he could be a spy from another Family. She’d need to keep an eye out; it wouldn’t be the first time one of them took a disliking to Mama’s method of mercy and kindness. With a sigh, Marinette settled into her office chair and clicked her computer on, before grabbing her phone from the charging dock.

“Aiya, who is it?” The voice on the other end answered after a few rings.

“An, it’s Eu-funh. I have someone from the League here, we need new clothes for him. I’ll text you his sizes. Put it all on the family expense card.”

“I understand. Your apartment or your home?”

“My apartment. He is still an unknown.”

“It will be done, princess. I’ll be less than an hour.”

“Good, see you then.” Hanging up, Marinette steepled her fingers and looked at Jason. “So, before I go to the trouble of making you an entirely new identity, who do you want to be?”

“Pardon?”

“What background do you want? I can make you the son of a rich CEO, or some random no one. I can make you a man with eight PHDs, or someone who barely graduated high school. So, what will it be?”

“Can I just be…average? If I’m gonna be working for you, I kinda need to be able to blend, don’t I?” Marinette smirked, full of teeth. For a moment, Jason was reminded of a shark.

“Excellent. We can give you a perfectly average GPA, some defense training, a false employment record at Family-owned businesses, and make you into the ultimate nobody.” Pulling up her digital contact book, Marinette quickly found the email of her preferred forger. True, they were an independent agent most of the time, but they were also incredible at what they did.  After firing off a quick email (encoded, of course) Marinette leaned back in her chair.

“So. What’s your story?” She asked, staring him down.

“I’m sorry, you have to reach level eight friendship to unlock my tragic backstory.” Jason snarked. Marinette smirked, trying not to laugh.

“Alrighty then. Guess I’ll start. I was a pretty normal kid, all things considered, until I was fifteen. I was being bullied by a girl in my class, some Italian brat. According to Family Laws, I couldn’t order a hit on anyone until I was eighteen, and I can’t order a hit on a child. So, instead, I got smart and asked my Mama for help. I hired some guys to infiltrate her apartment and plant bugs and speakers. I slowly started gathering intel on her, and eventually began to play sounds at night or when she was alone. After eight weeks, she had a psychotic break and was sent home to Italy to a mental institution. That was my first act as heiress to the Parisian Triad.” Jason sat there, processing, before letting out an impressed whistle.

“Well, I’m impressed. Personally, I would have just beat the shit out of her.”

“Eh. I had built the persona of a sweet, innocent girl. I also would likely have gotten caught, since I was still a total rooky.” Marinette shrugged.

“After that, I transferred to an elite private school with my cousin Bridgette, who you’ll probably meet soon, and my best friend Kagami. Attended that school until I graduated, and went to college for an associates degree in business. Currently, I’m going for a bachelor’s in Fashion Merchandising. I��ve lived in Paris most of my life, but I spend every Summer in China visiting family. Mind telling me where you’re from? Your French isn’t too bad, but you still have a faint American accent.”

“I’m from Jersey.” He eventually said, frowning. “I…I don’t remember where exactly.” His cheek twitched. He was lying to her. Marinette didn’t like lying, but sometimes people felt more comfortable with little white lies and half-truths.

“You know, I have family in New Jersey.” Marinette remarked, thinking of Damian. She was one of the few who knew where Damian was now, and who his father was. “A godson, in fact.” The computer dinged “I’ll have to see if you two would have ever crossed paths later. For now, we have a few identities to look through.”

@queen-in-a-flower-crown @goddessofthewestwind @tiny-goddess-of-chaos @marinettepotterandplagg @glasswolf @darkthunder1589 @abrx2002 @emotionalsupportginger

[lovehotelreservation]

[Hey, just for the day, we’ll pretend I’m made of money. I’ll be your sugar daddy. - Dance Gavin Dance] Gran has finally graduated(?) from an idol of the prestigious Gran Cypher Entertainment and signed a new contract as solo artist. With all this newfound freedom from the idol lifestyle, Gran plans to party hard with tables and bottles of Dom Perignon. He is no longer baby, he wants power.

THANK U JESSICA 4 THIS PROMPT OF SELF LUV U UNDERSTAND ME SO WELL

The Ideal Idol.

The Eternal Valentine.

The Singularity of the Music Industry.

The Captain of All.

There were many phrases drummed up by journalists and squealed by adoring fans to describe the one and only Gran of Gran Cypher Entertainment. As leader of GC Entertainment’s newly debuted boyband SPARK, he already had to be front and center for variety show appearances, interviews, and the like. However, with his boyish looks, incredible vocals, mastery of dance, commanding stage presence, and captivating personality, it did not take long for many fans within the Japanese idol community to take immediate notice of his rise in popularity. 

His merch always being the first to sell out, tv producers practically fighting one another to have him so much as cameo in their newest drama, and more.

A promising future in the entertainment industry was practically assured. He need only say the word.

And so, when it came time for Gran to make his highly publicized graduation out of GC Entertainment, he had his eyes set on a solo career with the famed Crystal Records.

The nation’s idol was taking his first big step towards becoming his own artist.

And he was doing so by taking a grand stand atop a VIP table of a Vegas nightclub, pumping his fist into the air as he proceeded to chug back a bottle of Dom Perignon while the performing DJ was blasting some sexy EDM remix of Paradise Lost. The surrounding crowd of Americans--all unaware of his pristine, clean image back in Japan--cheered and jeered in support of his stranger who seemed to be paying top dollar for a fun night. 

Champagne bottles, platters of hors d'oeuvres and sushi--there was a feast all on Gran’s black card to commemorate his newfound freedom from his idol days and to give thanks to his management team for their guidance throughout his career up until now and beyond.

You didn’t feel thanked.

Rather, you felt stressed.

Quite stressed.

From the day that SPARK was selected, you were assigned to be Gran’s personal manager. Wherever he went, you would go--all to make sure he kept to his schedule and was on his best behavior. Of course, given that you both were rather close in age, your professional relationship became more relaxed and at ease. You saw firsthand the struggle to keep up to such an inane perfect ideal as an idol that he faced, and you did your best to give him time to unwind, whether time to sleep in or indulging his desire to sneak out for a fun night around Tokyo.

This closeness was why he almost turned down Crystal Records’s initial contract upon hearing that they would assign him to new management. He would only allow his signature to glide along the paper if you came with him.

And so it was done.

And it was why you were standing in this club, watching what was basically immediate grounds for the end of an idol’s career unfold before your very eyes.

No wonder he insisted on celebrating in Vegas.

To the other clubgoers, he just looked like some rich influencer balling out.

To you, it was the sight of Japan’s most cherished idol freely handing out retirement savings to all sorts of unscrupulous paparazzi.

It was almost inevitable that he was about to literally begin to rock out with his cock out.

You had to act fast.

Though Gran didn’t have to abide by idol standards anymore, you refused to see his solo career to be tainted in debauchery by the work of Instagram Live.

One moment you were at the other end of the club, the next you were halfway at the center by the poolside bar, asking for napkins and a pen from the bartender.

When it came to the idol industry, far too often did you have to create NDAs on the spot to ensure and protect the image of your idols. Never once did you step into law school, but you were familiar with striking down any potential leaks.

With your makeshift agreements in hand, you were ready to hunt down anyone who was taking pictures of Gran’s shameless display.

Your eyes shifted over to the table he reserved for tonight’s party.

He wasn’t there any longer.

“Just a step behind, manager.”

Because one of his arms was busy slinging around your shoulder, hugging you close to his side as you were quickly led away from the bar towards one of the nearby poolside cabanas--another special rental for tonight’s celebration.

Heat quickly rose to your cheeks. Both out of fear and a feeling of something that only he was privy to. Your head turned around while your fingers clawed at your stack of napkins, alarmed as you looked around to see if anyone--mere clubgoer or sneaky paparazzi--was looking your way.

“G-Gran! What are you doing--?!” You gasped out to him above the deafening club music and the chatter of the crowd. “How drunk are you that you’re doing this?!”

He only grinned toothily as he opened the tent flap, ushering you in while his hand stayed on the small of your back. “I’m not drunk, I’m alive!”

Gran entered after you. 

As the opening flap of the cabana fell closed behind him, he immediately brought his hands up to your cheeks and drew you in for a kiss.

The two of you were close after all.

“Gra— Gran…!” The gasp of his name was muffled between your mouths, his tongue swiping at your bottom lip. Your body was quickly ensnared within his grasp, his arms toned from years dedicated to staying in shape for his years as an idol. Hands that left fans buckling with a mere wave were now roaming over your body, finding much indulgence in squeezing your ass or grabbing at your breasts.

It wasn’t until you felt the slight brush of a napkin against your leg that you realized that you dropped your makeshift NDAs in the process, suddenly making you aware of what you were doing and who you were doing this with.

You pulled away with a weak whine. “We’re still in public—!”

He pursued and kissed you over and over, a grin plastered on his lips. “Who’s to say that everyone out there wouldn’t do the same if they had the chance?”

His fingers ran over the fabric of your dress, brushing at the hem as he teased, “I got this dress for you because I wanted to celebrate, and yet you were still working.” With you still in his arms, he guided you over to a nearby wicker sofa, having you lay across the ivory cushion on top as he hovered above you, gazing down into your eyes with a mischievous expression. “Bad girl~”

As his manager, you were the one to always guide him along his career path, making sure he followed up on his schedule as an idol while giving him space as needed.

But Gran was a leader for a reason.

And he reminded you of this as his fingers tugged down at the neckline of your dress while hiking up its hem.

Fanservice for hands was common for his days as an idol, with him being an expert of winking at a camera during a televised performance, or murmuring a tender line of romance to an audience of adoring fans during a variety show appearance.

But nothing he did publicly could compare to how effortlessly he made you melt with the filth he spoiled you with as the two of you remained locked in your own little world together as the party outside raged on.

“Manager’s pretty nipples--” He groaned in-between noisy suckles and kisses along your breasts, his lips clamped around your hardened peaks, all while his hips ground against yours, making sure you felt the weight of his clothed, erect cock through the flimsy material of your panties, of which were soon removed afterwards.

Were it not knowing that he would only tease and torture you further if you proceeded to do so, you wanted to hide your face in embarrassment--even now, it was still just so much to have the nation’s idol be so dirty towards you.

Especially when it came time for when his desire for you could not wait any further, with the hasty unbuckle of his belt and the tug of his zipper before you felt the hot, drippy tip of his cock nudge and slide against your dribbling center as he groaned out, “--manager’s pretty pussy.” With adoration in his eyes, he then breathed out with reverence as he drank in the sight of your disheveled state. “Everything about you is pretty.”

“You are too much,” you shuddered with a whine, the barrage of his relentless sweetness. “To think I let you get away with practically everything.”

“‘Too much?’” He repeated curiously with a chuckle. “Are you saying you want less? Because I’m pretty sure you want more, right…!”

His hands grabbed hold of your waist as he sheathed his cock inside you fully in one thrust. The squeal of his name on your lips and the adrenaline of partying so hard had him wasting no time to begin pounding away into your core with heavy, hearty thrusts. With a twinkle in his eyes, he admired how precious you looked as you were left to grab at the cushion of the sofa beneath you, all while humming out, “I guess it’s only reasonable that I behave like I do when my manager is so naughty~”

“Gran--!” This man was just too damn good.

His lips were all over yours again, a mix of tender love and shameless desire with each kiss. “No matter where we go from here together, that’s the sound I always wanna hear above anything else in the world!”

It was nearing 3 AM at this point, but as everyone in the club continued to party the night away, so would you and Gran as the both of you celebrated not just his newfound solo career, but a new chapter where he was no longer bound to his duties and expectations of an idol, but to being his own individual, one who would eagerly and happily proclaim his love for you soon enough.

Because while everyone beneath the blue sky saw Gran as their one true idol, there was no one in the world who idolized you like him.

[kitchenscene]

all roads lead to space [1/15]

read it on ao3

Eddie always loved the stars.

Loved them enough to read every space exploration book at the library as a kid. Loved them enough to write essays dedicated to the sky. Loved them enough to take a brochure at career day that read ‘Explore Space!’, and promise himself that one day he’d see them up close. A promise so strong that it kept him up at night, staring out the window, waiting for a future he so badly needed.

Soon,  he promised.  ‘Explore Space!’, he remembered. He held onto that brochure, kept it close. Hung it on the wall above his desk, read the words everyday. A dream, a hope. A promise to himself.

“Really?”  his parents asked,  “You know, it’s not easy to be an astronaut…”

Of course it’s not easy. He did the research in high school, determined to pull his dream within reach. A four year degree and a professional degree. Then three years of ‘relevant experience’, plus two years of training, assuming he’s chosen as a candidate (“join the military,”  every pamphlet seemed to whisper,  “NASA loves military pilots.” It’s like they were taunting him).

“Don’t listen to them,”  Adriana reassured.

“You’d be good at it,”  Sophia hesitantly complimented.

It’s a lot to handle. A lot of time and school and training, which leads to a lot of receipts and loans and debts he could never pay. It’s brutal. To want something so bad, but have it dangling just out of reach. To see the possibility glaring at the end of the road and know that it will always be just that. A possibility. Barely out of reach, almost a reality, but never quite true.

That’s when the vultures began to prey.

  “Are you interested in joining the United States Armed Forces?”

Military recruiters. They’d scout out the high schools, searching for any able-bodied candidate they could find, preying on kids who had nowhere else to turn.

  “There’s plenty of benefits for you and your family–”

Including, but not limited to: redacted letters from your loved one overseas, nightmares that will settle deep in your skull, and bullet holes that will never quite heal. All for the low, low price of–

  “–We’ll pay for your college tuition.”

Of course that line always turned heads. Even Eddie perked at the offer. But he could never take it. It’s blood money, and he didn’t want it. Tempting, but no. No piece of paper, no cap and gown, is worth someone else’s life.

Eddie wanted to help people, not hurt them. Science, space exploration, it’s all about the pursuit of knowledge. Pushing mankind forward, not yanking them backwards onto the battlefield.

“I’m not interested,” he replied. Every single time.

Physically, sure, he could do it. He’s tall, mostly muscular, with no underlying health conditions. The perfect candidate to go to war. Or the perfect candidate to go to space. Eddie met every medical requirement. He could do it. Find a way.

Eddie graduated high school, and the vultures stopped swarming. He attended a community college and started taking physics classes (turns out, stars are complicated. Still, he had made it this far). Classes weren’t easy, but they were manageable. He could learn, he could go somewhere. With every lecture, the stars pulled closer, still out of reach but finally in sight. He might actually be able to—

  “—Are you interested in joining the United States Armed Forces?”  

So close. The recruiters didn’t disappear after high school, unfortunately. There was a constant military presence lingering over his head. Recruiters, ROTC kids, and the pamphlets he politely recycled behind their backs. The angel on one shoulder told him to go to grad school, and the devil perched on the other, whispering,  “NASA loves military pilots (it’s cheaper than a masters degree).”

Space, not war. Stars, not gunfire.

He could ignore them. Move quietly through classes and return home at the end of the day. Say no, smile, and move forward. It’s not like he had to see them every day… right?

“You know it’s not easy to be an astronaut…” the words rang in his head.  But Eddie had a plan, he always did. Graduate, apply to grad school, get accepted, find a scholarship, apply to work at NASA. Five steps, easy enough.

Easy until…

  “Hi, I’m Shannon.”

A field of vultures, and she stood unfazed in the middle of it all. The only smile that seemed to be true, the only one not trying to sell something he didn’t want. A yellow dress in the sea of camo-green, leaning against a table of flyers and pamphlets and lies. She caught his eye, and he held onto hers.

“You don’t seem like the military type,”  he noted.

  “Neither do you.”

Not a student, he learned. Not a recruiter, either. Just a sibling, helping her brother because she had nothing better to do. Intriguing, she was. Standing so self-assured, not letting a single teasing remark stick. Vultures glared at Eddie, but he kept his gaze on Shannon, borrowing an ounce of her confidence.

She asked him out before he had the chance to ask her, ignoring the “oooh’s”  and “get some!” of her brother’s friends. Not part of his plan, but a welcome distraction. How could he say no to the woman with more gusto than every soldier surrounding her?

One cup of coffee turned to three, and occasional texts from class turned into daily phone calls on his way home. All his free time, he gave to her, yet he still knew more about her brother than he did about her. She would pick and choose the details of her life, which to keep and which to divulge, whereas Eddie played his whole hand, letting Shannon see every part of himself. He trusted her, for no reason in particular. He laid out his ambitions, and she only nodded in return. But he was comfortable. Shannon gave him something to come home to; he spent more time in her apartment than his own house. His last year of college, and he spent it all with her.

He had his plan, a neat list of five steps to carry him through life. Shannon wasn’t part of that plan, but he could try and make room. Step one: graduate college. One more month, and he’d have his degree, tangible proof that he could follow through. Step two: apply to grad school. Confusing and messy and filled with questions he only half understood, but he could manage. He always found a way to manage.

Five steps. Five baby steps followed by one giant leap for mankind. One month and he’d—

  “—Are you interested in joining the United States Armed Forces?”  

Oh, fuck off,  he wanted to scream. So close. He had to admire their determination, but he was just as determined. What could they possibly offer at this point? What sales tactic could they possibly try? His response was practiced, trained.  No.  The answer is always no. Because in no  universe would Eddie ever willingly join—

  “—I’m pregnant.”

Oh.

  Oh.  

Eddie always loved the stars. So he finally followed them.

All the way to Afghanistan, betraying every promise he ever made to himself. Airman Eddie Diaz gave himself away and let the Air Force take him wherever they please.

Shannon was livid (understandably).  Impulsive  , she called him,  stupid and reckless. She understood the system more than most; her brother had fallen for the same trap, but convinced himself he loved the force. Eddie always hated the military, tried to avoid it at all costs.

He didn’t leave Shannon. He left  for Shannon and their baby. He could send them every paycheck and benefit he had to offer. They would be okay without him.

  “NASA loves military pilots…”

God,  he hated it. Hated himself; still thinking of his own damn future and convincing himself it was for Shannon (he wouldn’t even  be a pilot for fucks sake, at most he’d get promoted to Sergeant).

“I’ll be back,” he promised.

  “It’ll be too late.”

His plans changed. So he made a new one. Go to college, fight a war, explore space (more or less). Learn to be a dad somewhere along the way.  Leave them behind,  he left unwritten,  consider coming home (it’ll be too late).

Sixteen weeks of basic training and nine weeks shacked in some Air Force base in Alabama.  “Three years of relevant experience,” read every brochure he encountered. Two tours, three years of experience, one job application.

Eddie considered proposing. That’s what you do when you have a baby, you get married and start a family. But the idea died before he could really process the thought. It didn’t sit right, and part of him knew it would end too soon. A bigger part of him was half-sure she’d say no, anyways.

He apologized again and again. Every spare moment was spent calling home, reassuring Shannon that everything would work out (he didn’t know if it would; that’s a promise he wasn't ready to make). But it wasn’t enough. It was never enough.

Christopher was born. Eddie wasn’t there. His first tour ended nine months later and for the first time, Eddie met his son. He barely held him, scared to hurt him more than he already had. The military taught him to shoot and fly and throw a good punch in desperate times. College taught him to ask questions and write essays about books he barely read. His sisters taught him how to braid hair and avoid their parent's stern gaze. No one taught him how to be a dad.

Eddie wanted to hold him close and teach him everything he knew. He wanted Chris to have a good life. He didn’t want to leave.

But he was already gone. Eighteen more months. A stiff salute in one hand, his St. Christopher medal in the other, clanking against his dog tags.

In El Paso, the lights were too bright to ever see the stars properly. Afghanistan was darker, the lights much more muted. At night he could look up and see every constellation, every star, clouds dancing between the distant lights. His crew made fun of him for staring oh so lovingly at the sky;  “you look at your wife like that too?”

“She’s not my wife,” he panned, still staring up. Maybe she could see them too. Or maybe she was too busy looking down, caring for their child. Fixing his mistakes.

“Well, that’s certainly true now, my friend.” She would never forgive him for leaving, and he dreaded the day he’d come home to her rage. Fighting a war is easy. It’s a series of protocols and orders. In war, there’s always an answer. But coming home hurts. It’s regret and shame and scars that will never heal right.

His last mission was meant to be a rescue. To bring a wounded soldier home. Nothing they hadn't done thousands of times before. So of course everything went to hell. The one person he was supposed to save bled out before he had the chance to tend to him. He had a family, a real one who needed him to come home, and Eddie let him die.

Three gunshot wounds later, and somehow Eddie’s the hero; Staff Sergeant Diaz and his shining silver star. Looking at it made him nauseous. A symbol of heroism, and he wanted nothing more than to let it drown. Burn it, bury it, hurl it into the sea. Chris said it was cool. His parents said they were proud. Shannon said nothing at all (he feared her silence more than he feared her rage).

No words could make up for his absence. A thousand apologies meant nothing. He wasn’t there, he wasn’t enough. No dream was worth all this sacrifice. Go to college, fight a war, explore space.

  Go to college, leave your family, fight a war. Fight a war, come home, never leave again.

That soldier had a family. He wouldn’t have left them behind.

‘Explore Space!’ the brochure read, still hanging on the wall of his childhood bedroom. He ripped it from the cork board and let it fall to the floor.

Eddie always loved the stars. But he couldn’t leave Chris. Not again.

So Eddie stayed. He needed to stay. Somewhere along the line, Shannon left. He’s a hypocrite for being angry and a terrible person for being a little glad they never got married.

“You're such a downer,”  Adriana said. She and Sophia came to El Paso to surprise Chris for his birthday.  “Your sadness is making me sad. It’s making him sad too.” She nodded towards Chris.

“Did he say something to you?”  As much as he wanted to deny his feelings, he couldn’t. Not if it was hurting Chris.

“No. But kids are perceptive,”  she tried to level with him. “  You’ve been stuck in El Paso for years. At some point, you need to move forward. Or at least move out of our parent’s house.”

He frowned. “I can’t leave him. Not again,”  he said, unmoving.

“How do you think he’ll feel when he grows up and finds out you gave up your dream because of him? Eddie, I’m not telling you to leave him,”  she rested a hand on his shoulder,  “I’m telling you to bring him with you.”

He stood still, his head stuck to Adriana’s words. He wanted to do what was best for Chris. Jumping between jobs, trying to make ends meet, did more harm than good. He was at work more than he was at home, yet he managed to convince himself it was better for their family. Chris needed stability, something constant in his life. And Eddie needed to leave El Paso.

He watched Sophia stack Legos with Chris. Adriana watched Eddie as he considered his options.

“If you think any harder, your head might explode,”  she laughed.  “Stop trying to make a plan. Stop thinking. Just tell me, what do  you  want.”

Go to college, fight a war, explore space. One job application. Just one more step. Chris smiled up at him, and for the first time in months he felt content. An idea that was once so distant finally fell within reach. No plans, no hesitations.

  “I want to go to Houston.”

For Chris, he reassured himself, and this time he believed it. Everything he did, he did for Chris.

The next day he applied to be an astronaut. Two weeks later, and he was accepted, set to begin training at the Johnson Space Center in Houston.

“I was thinking of going on a trip. How would you like to come with me?” he offered Chris. Adriana and Sophia lived together just outside of the city and they offered to let Eddie and Chris stay with them (with the added bonus of free babysitting from his sisters).

“Together?” Chris was practically beaming. It broke Eddie’s heart to see how the simplest gesture brought so much joy. He never wanted Chris to doubt him again, never wanted him to think that at any moment, his dad might leave and never come home.

“Together.”

[hotchxprentiss]

Maybe Baby: Chapter Three

Ao3 Link

Series Masterlist

Summary: How Emily dealt with her pregnancy. 

Word Count: 2.2k

Chapter Warnings: angst, fluff, pregnancy stuff, mention of abortion

A/N: This is more of a filler chapter on Emily’s pregnancy. The next one will follow what happened in Chapter Two. 

1995

“Emily! How have you been?”

“I’ve been good, Pam. Just feeling a little nauseous.”

Emily met up with her old high school friend, Pam, at a brunch spot in D.C.

“Oh gosh I’m so sorry. Do you wanna just wanna hang out at your place? I don’t want you to get sick out here,” asked a concerned Pam.

Emily could feel her stomach turning and nodded at her friend’s question. The pair made their way to Emily’s apartment and ordered takeout. The two of them talked about college, their family, and most importantly, their love life.

“So, is there a special man in your life? Perhaps a woman?”

“Wait what do you mean Aar- Agent Hotchner left? He was just here two weeks ago?”

Emily stared at her mother, waiting for an answer. 

“He gave me his resignation letter last week. Turns out the FBI didn’t need an interview and hired him right away. Why are you asking anyway?”

“Oh nothing I’m just wondering where he went that’s all. He suddenly just disappeared.”

“He seemed quite excited to leave. I mean I don’t blame the man, it’s the FBI. Although, I am quite upset that we lost a great agent. Hopefully all goes well with his career.”

“Yeah, me too. I’ll just go upstairs now.”

Emily rushed to her room and clutched her pillow once she laid on her bed. Tears were streaming slowly down her face. As it turns out, Emily grew extremely fond of Aaron after the day they spent with each other. She appreciated his kindness and how gentle he was with her. Unfortunately they never really got to talk or spend more time together. Now he was gone and she had no way of communicating with him. Maybe it was for the best. 

The raven haired woman chuckled at Pam and shook her head. 

“No one as of now, unfortunately. Gotta focus on my studies first,” she replied, not wanting to mention Aaron. 

“Same here, boo. College is just too much right now.”

The two of them continued their chatter until a doorbell signaled the arrival of their food. Once they paid and set up the dining table, Emily’s mouth watered at the sight of the orange chicken, which was typically not her favorite of the bunch. However, the smell of beef and broccoli caused her to gag and rush off straight to the bathroom. The contents of her stomach filled the toilet and Pam rushed to the bathroom to pull her hair back.

“Thanks, Pam.”

“It’s no problem. You sure you’re okay? Are you sick or something?”

“Probably just caught a bug. There was one roaming around my hallway at Georgetown. You should probably leave before you catch it.”

“Are you sure, Em? I can stay here to make sure you’re okay.”

“It’s alright, Pam, really. Besides, your brother’s wedding is in a few days. I would hate to see you miss out on that.”

Pam thought about it for a while and hesitantly nodded at her friend’s statement. 

“Just make sure to call me if you need anything, and I mean anything at all, okay. I love you, girlfriend,” Pam smiled and blew a kiss. 

Emily blew one back and locked her apartment door. She went to her bed and decided to sleep the rest of the day.

~

“Oh fuck.”

Emily woke up to a pounding headache and immediately reached for the water bottle on her night stand. I didn’t even drink yesterday. Soon enough, she felt bile rising from her throat and rushed to the toilet. Emily wiped her mouth and began thinking. No one else reacted to the bug like this. I hate my immune system. She went back to sit on her bed and that’s when realization hit her.

“Shit.”

~

Emily headed over to the nearest pharmacy and picked up three different pregnancy tests. She needed to be sure her instincts were correct, or hopefully wrong. She quickly paid for her things and went back to her apartment to finally get an answer to her question. 

The tests were all laid out on the bathroom counter and she set a timer for three minutes. Please, be negative. Please, be negative. Please, be negative. The timer went off and Emily took a deep breath before she took a look at the tests. All of them were positive. Her knees gave out and she began sobbing on the floor. 

Emily knew right away that Aaron was the father. She hadn’t been with a man for months before their one night stand. There was no way she could tell him, with her still being angry at him and not having any clue on how to reach out. Emily was aware that she had no right to be upset with Aaron. It was a one night stand after all. But with the way he treated her, she thought he at least cared for her, too. He still left without telling you, she told herself. 

She then thought about what happened to her at fifteen, when she got an abortion with the help of Matthew. The truth is, Emily has always wanted to be a mother, but she knew she couldn’t handle taking care of a child at that age. 

Now, she was given a second chance. She was aware of the consequences of keeping it. She was still in college and wanted a career that could cause her to travel to various places, not to mention being in the FBI could put her and her child at risk. But those thoughts were pushed aside when Emily imagined herself carrying her own baby in her arms. She swore she would protect her child with her life. 

At that moment, Emily’s decision was already made. She was going to finish college and pursue a career in the FBI, all while being a mother and not having the father in the picture. 

~

3 Months Later

Emily was now five months pregnant with her baby. Once she informed her mother, they stopped talking for a while until Elizabeth finally gave in and wanted to be part of her grandchild’s life. In her mind it was her way of making it up to Emily after not being there for her when she was younger. 

Emily graduated college and put her career on hold until she gave birth. She wanted to focus all her attention on the pregnancy so that she and her baby are healthy. 

Pam eventually found out about her friend and even offered to drive Emily to every single doctor’s appointment and wherever else she needed to go. She even came along with Emily to help her find a bigger apartment since her current one was not suitable for a baby.

At one of her appointments, Emily’s gynecologist told her that the sex of her child could already be determined. She quickly informed the doctor that she wanted it to be a surprise and wait until their birth. 

After the appointment, Emily headed over to her mother’s house for a quick lunch. Elizabeth and her daughter started spending more time together and she hoped that they could move on from the past and start anew. Emily was reluctant at the idea at first but eventually gave in because even with what happened before, she loved her mother and wanted her baby to grow up with their grandmother. She arrived at the house and was greeted by her mother at the door.

“Emily, dear, how was the appointment? Is my grandchild a boy or a girl?” Elizabeth asked while hugging her daughter. 

“Hi, mom. And yea it went well. I decided to wait until I gave birth to find out the sex.”

Elizabeth frowned at her statement but then remembered it was Emily’s pregnancy, not hers, and that she was the one to make all the decisions. She then changed her frown to a smile and hugged her daughter once again.

“I’m extremely proud of you, you know. And I’m sorry for not saying it enough. You are an incredible daughter and I’ll be sure to remind my grandchild how amazing her mother is. I love you, sweet pea.”

Emily tried to control her tears but due to her hormones, she started sobbing into her mother’s shoulders. ‘Sweet pea’ was what Elizabeth called her when she was younger. 

“I love you too, mom. God, I’m sorry for the tears,” Emily laughed. 

Elizabeth gave Emily a kiss on the forehead and led her inside.

~

After lunch was over, Emily drove back to her place and received a call once she got settled on her couch. 

“Hello, is this Emily Prentiss?”

“Yes, this is her.”

“Congratulations, Miss Prentiss. I just called to inform you that you got the apartment on Greene Street. Are you still up for it?”

“Oh my god, yes of course! Thank you so much!”

“I’m glad to hear it. Would you be able to stop by tomorrow at noon and fill out some paperwork?”

“Tomorrow is perfect. And thank you once again.”

“It’s no problem at all. I’ll see you tomorrow then. Have a nice day.”

“You, too.”

Emily did a little happy dance on her couch, keeping in mind her small bump. 

“Well, my little one, it looks like we got a place now. It’s just gonna be the two of us for a while. Mommy loves you so much and she’ll do whatever she can to make sure you remember that.”

At the end of her small speech, the exhaustion caught up on the soon to be mother and she fell asleep. 

~

4 months later

Emily was now close to her due date and ready to pop. With the help of her mother and Pam, she was already moved into her new apartment. Pam and her went baby shopping a few times, buying a crib, clothes, diapers, a stroller, and little toys. Even though there was another room dedicated to the baby, Emily decided to have the crib be placed in her room to keep them closer to her. Everything was all set up, the only thing missing was the baby. 

Emily was walking over to the kitchen when she felt something wet dripping down her legs. She looked down and realized her water broke. She immediately called Pam while grabbing her go bag. 

“Hey, Pam, my water just broke. Can you please drive me to the hospital? I’m starting to cramp and I don’t think I can make it to my car.”

“Shit, okay, Em, I’m close to your apartment. Just give me a few minutes. Baby Prentiss is about to make their appearance!”

Emily smiled at her friend’s enthusiasm and hung up after saying goodbye. 

“Ow, fuck,” she cried. 

Emily came to the conclusion that her painful cramps were actually contractions. As the last one was over, Pam used her keys to unlock the door and helped Emily out to her car. 

“Are you ready for this, Em?” Pam asked as the two of them were buckled in. 

“At this point, I’m ready for everything. Let’s have this baby.”

~

“Mom, it hurts so much,”

“Shh shh, I know sweet pea. Your baby is almost here.”

Emily called her mother in the car and never in Elizabeth’s life did she move so quickly. She met Emily at the hospital and checked her into one of the rooms. She and Pam stayed inside to comfort her. 

“She’s right, Em. That just means Baby Prentiss is gonna make their appearance soon,” Pam said while holding her hand. 

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation and the doctor came in. 

She went over to examine Emily again to see if she was ready to give birth. 

“Miss Prentiss, it looks like you’re about ten centimeters dilated. I’ll go ahead and call in the nurses to set up.”

Once the doctor left, Emily started panicking. 

“Oh god no, I’m not ready. What if I’m a bad mother? What if my child hates me?”

Elizabeth stroked her daughter’s hair and said, “Emily, dear, listen to me. You will never be a bad mother. I saw how you were during this pregnancy. Your child will be extremely lucky to have you as their mother. I know you’re going to love them unconditionally.”

Emily teared up at her mother’s statement and squeezed her hand. 

“Thanks, mom.” 

The doctor returned with a few nurses and everything was set up right away. 

“Alright, Emily, when I tell you to push, I want you to push as hard as you can, okay?”

Emily nodded at her words and prepared herself for one of the most painful experiences of her life. 

“Push!”

Emily pushed with all her strength and laid her head back on the hospital bed. 

“I’m gonna need you to push again, hun. Just one more after this and you’ll finally meet your little one. Push!”

She pushed again, indescribable pain on the lower half of her body. 

“One more, Emily, you can do it. Push!”

Emily pushed to the best of her ability and felt relief at the sound of cries that filled the room. 

“Congratulations, it’s a girl.”

She smiled at the announcement and watched her mother cut off the baby’s umbilical cord. The nurses quickly cleaned her up and wrapped her in a pink blanket. The baby was laid on Emily’s chest and the new mother placed a soft kiss on her daughter’s head. 

“Do we have a name?” one of the nurses asked. 

Emily thought about names for a few months. She settled on one for a boy and another for a girl. Now that her daughter was here she could finally use the name she came up with 

“Her name is Charlotte Natalia Prentiss.”

[scaredandbored]

.ok i caved and wrote spones. academy au spones. with a really, horribly out of character spock. was this purely self-indulgent? yes. i’m not even 100% sure what im doing with this story, only that its spones, they share a dorm, and its going to be a gross, borderline self-insert fic lmaoooo. playing fast and loose with the academy’s curriculum because i’m a lazy piece of shit who won’t research the actual structure. also, idk if it even counts as slash, because it contains what i consider flirting, which is ACTUALLY just bickering and academic/scientific discussion combined with gentle physical contact. let me have this. 

additional note : i snuck in some pining at the end! so it’s definitely romantic! ha! (it’s not worth it dont bother)

additional additional note : i fucked up a perfectly good spones fic by trying to add jim but it turned into McSpirk 

Collectors poke and scalpels ring

(title from billy corgan’s poem “a wax seal”)

warnings : don’t read this spock is so badly written in it.

                 blatant abuse of the comma, oxford and otherwise

                 someone gets burnt but it’s not severe and it’s off of tea 

                 cursing. a lot of it. 

words : c.6’000 (i’ll count properly tomorrow, it’s hard to get a word count on mobile)

If Leonard was being completely honest with himself (which he tried to be, dammit), his studying had stopped being productive at some stage between midnight and one a.m, but he’d be damned if he was going to grant his smug-enough-already roommate an “I told you so” by going to bed. Not that Spock would use such colloquial, illogical language. Resisting the urge to groan, Leonard let his head fall to his desk, confident the pile of pages he had accumulated while studying for his assessment in Standard Procedures in Classifying Non-Humanoid Life-Forms would muffle the thud enough to prevent upsetting his roommate’s meditation in the bedroom next to his. Walls were thin at the academy, that was the whole reason he’d had to turn down Jim when he’d requested Leonard to bunk with him for their second year in the academy. Bones loved the kid, he really did, but if he wasn’t blasting his frankly awful study music through the whole night, he had someone over from wherever he’d been that evening, and Bones had come to learn (quickly, and unwillingly), that Jim was loud in bed.

Making the decision to go make a coffee (not with one of those godawful replicators, but with some decent coffee beans that his younger sister had brought as a present on his birthday, for which he’d had to actually purchase a grinder and coffee press for afterwards, but it was the thought that counts), Bones couldn’t help but miss the all-nighters he and Jim used to pull together in their previous year at the academy, using each other to keep awake and motivated. The kid’s taste in classical music left much to be desired, but he didn’t seem to mind Bones’s preferences, so they’d throw on the med student’s study playlist on Jim’s maybe-technically-banned-but-no-one-is-going-to-snitch-on-us-because-we-all-have-one-Bones-relax speaker and bounce flash cards off of each other, explaining things to one another, and sharing notes. Jim had always been very much an aural-oral learner, unable to retain information unless he had explained it to someone, or had it explained to him, and while Bones definitely did not mind helping his friend out, he’d always been a more individual learner, preferring to take his notes and summarise them, re-writing the most important points until he had them ingrained in his subconscious. Which was all well and good, except it was a pain in the ass of a technique that only became more frustrating when it was employed in a long night of cramming.

Quietly, Bones took his mug as well as the rest of the required paraphernalia from the almost-bare shelf in the equally almost-bare cupboard he and Spock had voted to dedicate to Bones’s “illogical need to entertain guests with a strange variety of baked goods paired with one of two hot beverages” and Spock’s “ostentatious pots and probably poisonous concoctions”, all while chiding himself for reminiscing about study sessions. Of all the stupid shit he could reminisce about at the ripe age of twenty-two, study sessions with a friend he could easily invite over to join him was probably the one of the most stupid. Bones was forced to pause and evaluate his situation as he realised that all his quiet tip-toeing about in an effort to leave Spock’s meditation undisturbed was probably null and fucking void, seeing as he had to manually grind the coffee beans, which would indubitably create enough noise to irritate those over-sensitive ears. Not that the vulcan could feel irritation. Fucking asshole.

Rolling his eyes at his own cankerous mood, he began to prepare his coffee, keeping half an ear on the sudden rustling noises from Spock’s bedroom as the disturbed vulcan did god-knows-what before coming out to lecture Leonard. Or to glare at him. Or condescend him. Maybe criticise him on how late he’d left it to study for this godforsaken exam. Or maybe Leonard was projecting onto his poor roommate, who he’d only known for the better half of a month. (During which, the cranky bastard side of his brain argued, said roommate had made his distaste for human culture and illogic clear, his particular dislike (it was dislike, regardless of whatever “vulcans don’t feel” bullshit he was trying to pull) of Leonard thinly veiled, and his disinclination to speak to Leonard in general blatantly obvious.) Most likely Spock would simply head into their shared living area to procure a cup of his noxious evening teas before returning to his meditation, not stooping so low as to acknowledge the source of the disruption to his nightly routine. Leonard’s mission to caffeinate himself was not under threat. It took more energy than Leonard would ever admit to quell the disappointment that bubbled up at the thought of Spock just ignoring him.

It was stupid-o-clock in the morning, of course the vulcan wasn’t going to engage in a full-blown academic conversation with him, what was he thinking? Bones haphazardly plopped the filter over his mug just as the kettle came to a boil, doggedly ignoring the squeak of Spock’s door and the sound of his bare feet against their tile floor.

“It is not recommended for humans to ingest beverages of such a high caffeine content at this hour.” Spock’s voice breaking the eerie silence of the late hour was enough to make Leonard’s usually still hands jerk, splashing his knuckles with the hot water. He managed to suppress a hiss of pain, determined not to let the vulcan see any weakness.

“It’s not generally recommended amongst humans to get your medical degree at Starfleet Academy, yet here I am, Spock.” Griped Bones, turning to face Spock with his mug in hand, the eye contact he made intended as a challenge. Try and stop me, Pointy.

Spock raised an eyebrow, which alerted Leonard to the vulcan’s significantly slower than normal movements. The damn vulcan was sleepy, he realised. In an infuriatingly adorable way, Spock blinked slowly twice before responding, a significant delay in his usual response times to Leonard’s taunts. “On the contrary, an education in Starfleet Academy is highly coveted amongst humans; its expansive curriculum makes its graduates highly sought after in careers outside of the academy. I see no logic in your statement.”

Bones rolled his eyes, knocking back half his coffee in a matter of seconds, and burning his tongue in the process. “I don’t see the logic in continuing to hold conversations with an individual you find so distastefully illogical, Mr.Spock.” He passed the strange traditional vulcan teapot out to his roommate along with the decidedly terran-style mug Spock seemed to prefer using.

Spock offered three more of his slow, dazed blinks before responding with a tilt of his head that was slightly more pronounced than the one he tended to make during the day. “Distasteful? I do not believe I have ever said as much, McCoy.”

Bones gave a single, barking laugh, shaking his head as he began to move back towards his bedroom. “Careful, Mr.Spock. Keep up the flattery and you might say something you regret.”

“You are studying?” Spock called after him, just as Leonard was closing his door.

Leonard watched Spock as he shuffled around their kitchen, preparing his tea, his normally purposefully brisk steps reduced to a half-asleep stumble. His roommate gave no indication of having spoken to him. “In my usual, time-consuming way. Yes I am, Mr.Spock.”

Spock did not face him, but the delay in his response was still significant, for the vulcan, “You study using this highly inefficient method only when learning independently, correct?”

“What is it you’re getting at? There’s only so many hours in a night, and some of us have work to do.” Growled Leonard, his prolonged view of the back of Spock’s house robes frustrating him. Their arguments were much less entertaining and all the more aggravating when he couldn’t look Spock in the eye. Spock attempted to answer while turning to face Leonard in his sleepy daze, forgetting that he was halfway through pouring the boiling water over the strainer, effectively dousing his front in the scalding liquid. There was a brief pause where Spock blinked down at the front of his robes, while Bones processed what had just happened before jerking into action. “Get that glorified dressing gown off of yourself, Spock!” He whisper-shouted, determined not to wake the entire residential block. Spock just blinked at himself, then at Leonard.

“It is burning.” He deadpanned, prompting Bones to roll his eyes and cross the room in a few quick strides.

“It’s boiling water, Spock, of course it’s burning.” He hissed tapping the lapels of the robes. “You need to get out of this so we can get you under some running, room temperature water, try and stop any blistering.” Spock finally seemed to register what was going on and began to unwrap the ties of the robes, turning away from Leonard as he did so. Leonard noticed his roommate look uneasy at the prospect of being shirtless around him, and decided to leave him to it. “I’ll go run the shower, you dry yourself off a bit and run any part of your arm that got caught in the stream under the tap. I’ll call you when the shower’s the right temperature, ok?”. Leonard waited for Spock’s nod before bolting off to their shared bathroom to start working. 

So much for his productive night studying. It was starting to look like he’d be playing nurse for Spock until the on-campus medbay opened at five am. He was just beginning to realise exactly how fucked he was for the exam the following day when the door to their bathroom creaked open slowly. “Nearly there, Spock. I don’t recommend using any of your pungent herbal shit, we don’t want anything getting into any burst blisters or anything.” 

“Your alarm is unwarranted, Leonard. There is no lasting damage done to my person.”

“Congratulations on your medical degree, Spock, didn’t realised you’d discovered a fast track. Y’could’ve told me.” Leonard drawled, not taking his eyes off of the shower, his wrist under the stream of water to monitor the temperature. 

“You know I have done no such thing.” Spock huffed, his less alert state loosening his restraint enough to allow for such blatant emotionalism. 

“Sarcasm, Spock. Somethin’ you’re gonna have to get used to if you plan on launching into the void canned in with a bunch of humans once we graduate.” Leonard was angling for a mild version of their normally acerbic exchanges, but Spock didn’t seem willing to take the bait.

“If you insist I must bathe in tepid water, I will comply, but I trust you understand the state of my health is my concern alone, and you have no power to forbid me from assisting you with your studies.”

“Bold of you to assume I want your assistance.” His final attempt to goad Spock fell just as flat as his others, and he gave a defeated sigh. “Please stay in until your skin’s returned to its normal complexion, alright?”

Spock gave a half nod and stood to the side to let Leonard pass out of the bathroom, which he did a mite faster than was strictly necessary. Sighing as Spock closed the door, Leonard began weighing the benefit of trying to study against the fact he was just worried enough to be distracted from anything too difficult. Leonard scoffed. “Who am I kidding, everything in this module is difficult enough to make me want to rip my fucking eyes out.” He continued grumbling incoherently as he made his way back to his room, throwing a dirty look at the mess of teapots, mugs, and cafetieres as he walked past it. Spock would have a hissy fit. Or, the closest thing the teachings of Surak would allow to a hissy fit. “Goddamn, green-blooded, neat-freak.” Leonard groused, frowning at the state of his room.

Leonard often consoled himself for his lack of cleanliness within the confines of his bedroom using the fact he very rarely sullied shared living areas. He liked to think of his room as a sort of nesting area; cluttered, but cosy and homely. Spock thought the state of his room was indicative of his disorganised mind and illogical outlook on life. He looked around his room, trying to decide how to partially tidy it most effectively before Spock got out of the shower. 

Ultimately, he decided to leave anything that could be passed off as studying material (including, but not limited to the notes Jim had left behind on Starfleet-approved mixed martial arts) and to gather all clothing into one pile behind the door. He had just finished that and was contemplating moving some of the collection of unwashed, half-empty mugs he’d forgotten about into the sink when someone cleared their throat at the threshold of the door, causing Leonard to jump. “Goddammit, Spock, y’could’ve killed me!” He snapped, subtly kicking the sleeve of one of his hoodies behind the door. 

Spock’s eyes followed his foot as he attempted this subterfuge, which lead him directly to the pile of clothes. He raised an eyebrow, looking back at Leonard. “I was unaware the human heart was so poorly designed that even one belonging to a relatively fit for duty, young man was susceptible to cardiac arrest caused by unpredictable scenarios. It leads me to wonder why Starfleet consists mostly of such an inept species.”

The adorable, sleepy Spock had disappeared, leaving the sharper, more alert, more dangerously attractive Spock that Bones was going to have a hard time not coming onto over the next year. “I think I preferred you when y’couldn’t string together a sentence.”   

Spock’s eyes narrowed infinitesimally as he stepped purposefully towards Leonard’s desk. “You are hardly the image of a functioning officer after your rest cycle has been disrupted, McCoy.” He quipped, pouring over the notes Leonard had been working on before the whole tea-spilling fiasco. “You have been repeatedly transcribing the same five notes for upwards of an hour, if you maintained a constant rate of words per minute.” 

Leonard shrugged, striding over to his desk to snatch the notes back defensively. “What of it?” He snapped, picking up his pad of paper (not good for the environment, but he’d loaned his PADD that he usually used for revision to Jim a week ago and wasn’t due to get it back until that weekend) and old-fashioned pen that used to belong to his mother. 

Spock raised an eyebrow at Leonard’s odd behaviour, picking up the textbook that had started to slip down the back of the overcrowded desk to leaf through it. “It is a highly inefficient method of study. Particularly given your current time constraints.” 

“Spare me the lecture, Spock. It works, and that’s all that matters.” Leonard drawled, having already resumed his scribbling, desperately attempting to commit one of the longer definitions required for the exam to memory. 

“That statement has no grounds in fact, nor does your extension based on the untruth follow any semblance of logic.”

Leonard uttered a string of curses in his native tongue, making Spock consider taking Earth English classes on the side, if only to aggravate the med student in his own native tongue. Not that Spock would ever admit to such irrational motivations.  “Dammit, Spock,” Leonard’s familiar growls in Standard had less venom than they usually did this early in their verbal sparring, a fact that drew Spock’s concern sharply onto the med student. “,either sit down and help a guy out, or get out and let me be. Ain’t that hard.” Spock eased himself down onto the human’s bed carefully, sitting cross-legged beside him with the textbook balanced carefully on his knee.

“I have heard you listening to music whilst studying on previous occasions. I have noted you do not tend to do so while I am meditating, however, I am doing so now. If it assists you, I would recommend you indulge.” Carefully watching the human for signs of distress while he spoke, Spock decided another snip at him would not hurt him. “Your human focus is dismal enough without depriving it of the stimulus necessary for it to operate at an acceptable level of efficiency.”

Spock watched with mild satisfaction as Leonard threw his archaic study materials down in a small rage, his eyebrows practically dancing as he spluttered furiously for exactly 3.2 seconds before responding coherently. “Why, you listen here, you green-blooded son-of-a-bitch, y’ain’t doin’ much good in this here bedroom, so you’ve got about three seconds ‘fore i throw you out!”

Spock unfurled himself and stood, but he didn’t make a move for the door. Instead, the stoic bastard moved back to Leonard’s desk, sorting papers into piles as he systemically searched the surface for something. Finally, he picked up Leonard’s music device: a miniature PADD his younger sister had constructed for her first set of practical engineering exams, programmed to run audio files only. “A’ight, give it here.” Leonard stretched out his hand, palm up, waiting for Spock to hand it over. Spock took a moment to briefly page through the audio files Leonard had equipped the tiny device with, the corners of his mouth turning down fractionally. “Somethin’ the matter, Spock?”

“I was under the impression that humans preferred to listen to classical music whilst studying?”

“That is classical, Spock.”

“I do not recognise it.”

Spock looked up just in time to watch the furrows between Leonard’s brows deepening. “Well, it’s classical, terran music, not vulcan, so I don’t suspect y’would.”

Without thinking, Spock said, “My mother made sure I was acquainted with many kinds of classical terran music as a child. I expected to recognise at least one of these songs from the information she provided me with.”

“Your mother liked terran music?”

Spock didn’t even pause to consider the trust required for him to offer an insight into his personal history. He just did. “My mother was human. I am only half-vulcan.”

“Might be half-vulcan, but you’re still a whole pain in the ass.” The rapidity of Leonard’s answer set Spock totally at ease, and the vulcan allowed himself to relax slightly in the presence of the human. “Y’still’ve done absolutely fuck all to help me, and I really do need to study. Y’can stay if y’want, but I can’t be shootin’ the breeze with you all night, y’hear?”. Spock’s look of confusion at the idiom was enough to send Leonard back on the defensive, and he was about to launch into a strong verbal eviction from his room when something almost-but-not-quite-clear quickly swept over Spock’s eyeballs. “What in the fucking HELL was that!” He shrieked, immediately grabbing his training tricorder from under his bed and scanning Spock, studies forgotten.

Spock’s alarm was only notable in his shoulders, which tensed as Leonard crowed into his personal space to a degree that would’ve been considered improper on Vulcan. Spock did not make any movement to rectify this situation. “McCoy?”. Leonard was muttering to himself as he scanned Spock for a third time. “Leonard?”

“What was that, Spock?”

“I am unclear on what it is exactly you are referring to.” Spock maintained solid eye contact with the Leonard, concern for the human’s mental well-being bubbling under his cool exterior. Leonard blinked, twice, incredulously, before putting his hand on the junction between Spock’s neck and shoulder, which was covered by his turtleneck. He looked at though he was going to say something before he went extremely pale and spluttered incoherently for a few moments before beginning anew with his tricorder scans. “Leonard?” 

“Spock, something’s happening to your eyes.” He growled in response, pressing at the junction where his hand rested. “Turn your head, I want to scan it from another angle. Do you feel dizzy, nauseous, anything out of the ordinary?” 

“Nothing. The level of confusion I am experiencing is within normal parameters for my interactions with you.” Spock felt a wave on content pass over him when McCoy stopped scanning for a second to glare at him, before shaking his head and resuming his activities.

After a few minutes, he withdrew the scanner, dragging a hand down his face. “Spock, I don’t suppose vulcans happen to have a second pair of eyelids, do they?” 

“Have your anatomy classes failed to cover that of vulcans?” Spock narrowed his eyes, deflecting from the fact that he didn’t actually know if the second eyelid was still a functioning part of vulcan biology. He’d learnt about it as a vestigial organ, but his hybrid nature had fascinated many scientists back home. One of the reasons he had decided to leave for Starfleet; Spock had hoped to avoid the invasive poking and prodding done in the name of research. That being said, the soft poking sensation of Leonard’s fingers through his shirt was far from uncomfortable, and Spock felt strange when the sensation stopped. 

“We do, but the piss-poor files the VSA are willing to relinquish to us mere humans are so fucking full of redaction and contradiction that all we’ve left to work with are a few vague diagrams and thoughouly unhelpful paragraphs on the composition of vulcan blood.” Leonard took a step back from Spock, restoring the traditional respectful distance between them. Much too distant for Spock’s liking. “You’re sure you’re not going to die in the next few hours until we can get you to the sickbay tomorrow?”

“I do not need-”

“Spock, you’ve not only burnt yourself-”

“It is superficial at most, and does not require-”

“-but you’ve just discovered what might maybe be an eyelid but could equally -for all we know- be-”

“-medical attention. Your anxiety is unwarranted and your focus on your studies has waned to what could prove to be a detrimental degree if you do not-”

“-a malignant growth of some sort, you have to go to find out if that thing is hurting you or not at least-”

“-cease your illogical fussing and resume.”

“-and I- Spock are you even listening to me?” Leonard’s gradually increasing volume finally peaked out, and Spock raised an eyebrow at the outburst. “Ah. shit, the neighbours.” 

“At this hour, we can hope they are in a deep enough sleep not to have heard-”

“Are you kidding me Spock, I practically screamed-”

“If we continue in this vein, you will lose what little volume control you posses. Please sit down once again and I shall try and gauge how much you have prepared for this test already and we shall start from there.” Spock’s eyebrow lowered itself slowly as he relaxed once more, Leonard sitting down on the bed close to the headboard, making it easy for Spock to sit relatively close to him without making it look like anything but a logical decision for optimum viewing of the human’s notes. Not that it wasn’t motivated by logic. The fact his side was pressed soothingly to Leonard’s was a pleasant bonus. “That eyelid thing is a bit strange, you’re sure it doesn’t hurt?”

Spock levelled him with a flat stare. “I shall visit the nurse tomorrow if you cease this discussion.”

Leonard shrugged and dropped his head down and began working on a list of things he felt confident on for the next day in an attempt to hide his smug smile. It didn’t work, but Spock didn’t say anything. 

A few hours later, they had taken a break from Spock’s relentless verbal assessments for Leonard to give his brain a chance to process the points they had been drilling and for Spock to asses the data he had collected on Leonard’s rate of retention of information to try and streamline their next bout. Except Leonard’s head had dropped onto Spock’s shoulder, and the heat from where their sides were pressed tightly together was relaxing Spock into a borderline meditative state. It was only when his chest started to vibrate lightly when Spock snapped himself back to reality, confident he had not woken his study mate with his unfortunate vulcan habit. Hubris was not a trait vulcans were capable of possessing, so Spock classed his slide in judgement as a calculation error, not as a result of unfounded pride.

“Were’y’... purrin’, Spock?” The human’s voice was muffled by Spock’s turtleneck, so the flush high on the his cheeks went unnoticed by Leonard. 

“It is... an unfortunate, involuntary response of Vulcans.” Was Spock’s clipped answer, suddenly awake and almost frantically pouring over the notes he had made on Leonard’s progress. 

“Mmm, sounds like more of y’all’s goddamn cagey nature. Outta be somethin’ your doctor outta know.” Leonard slowly picked himself up off of Spock’s shoulder. Spock felt irrationally irate at the loss of contact, despite the fact their sides remained pressed together. “Ah, shit. How long was I out?”

“Twelve minutes.” Was Spock’s response, glad to have moved on from his embarrassing lapse in control. Leonard’s response wasn’t forthcoming, so Spock chanced a glance at his roommate, only to find his mouth wide open, eyes closed, and seemingly struggling for breath. Spock’s basic first aid training kicked in, fully aware that humans, much like vulcans, required a constant supply of oxygen, and he began to thump at Leonard’s back, the angle much too awkward for him to apply the force necessary to dislodge whatever may have been blocking the med student’s airways. Except, the med student seemed to have cleared his airways on his own. And was using his perfectly clear airways to yell at Spock.

“The hell’re you doin’? Coulda seriously hurt me with that goddamn “superior vulcan strength” you won’t shut up about! Ain’t a fella allowed t’yawn in his own damn bedroom?”

Spock quickly stood up from the bed, and Leonard watched as the relaxed stance the vulcan had had previously completely vanished. “You appeared to be in respiratory distress. The training I have thus far received in first aid on humans required the first thing to do in such a situation would be-“

“Dammit Spock, I’m a med student, I know what t’do when someone can’t fucking breathe! I, oddly enough, was breathing just fine!”

Spock’s chin lifted fractionally, the last of his near-tender demeanour hardening. “Incorrect. Your chest ceased to rise and fall regularly, you had opened your mouth for maximum oxygen intake and yet you did not inhale, and the distress weakened you insofar as you were forced to close your eyes.”

Leonard looked at him, incredulous. “I yawned.”

“I do not understand. Does this correlate with your -“

“I yawned, you thick-skulled-“ Leonard stopped and took a breath, scrubbing his face with his hand. “Don’t worry, s’just an unfortunate, involuntary response of humans.”

Spock recognised he was being quoted, but unlike previous, malicious quotations made by various humans (including this patprticular one), his roommate did not seem to be trying to get a rise out of him, so he decided to retaliate. “That is the nature of most human responses, voluntary or otherwise.”

The outraged eyebrow that was slowly creeping up Leonard’s forehead was completely undermined by the sleepy grin that was taking over his entire face. “I’m not going to get much more study for this assent done, huh?”

“Assessment?”

“Yeah, the thing we’ve been studying for.” Leonard looked confused, but Spock’s head tilt betrayed his own befuddlement. 

“You referred to it previously as an exam.” His arms crossed his chest, marring his perfect posture slightly. It looked to Leonard that, despite his confusion, his roommate was more relaxed than he had been. 

“Yeah, an exam, an assessment, no difference, is there?”

Spock would later deny the look he gave Leonard was ‘incredulous’, Leonard would exaggerate his expression into one of absolute shock when retelling the tale to Jim the following evening. “There is a considerable difference, Leonard. Considering the brevity of this particular elective, the only grade that might impact your final score will be the final examination. Assessments in such a relatively insignificant elective will not affect your final grade in any serious manner.”

“It’s a matter of pride, Spock.” Leonard smiled, shaking his head. “Gotta keep up appearances.”

Spock glowered down at his roommate, the expression so slight that Leonard didn’t notice it at all. The silence strung out for a moment longer than absolutely necessary before Spock sat down at the foot of Leonard’s bed. “Pride is illogical, McCoy.”

Leonard snorted, shaking his head. “Pride and spite are the only things that keep me going, take ‘em away and I wouldn’t do a thing.” 

He watched as Spock’s eyebrow crept upwards, his head tipping lightly towards him. “Your finger brushed my collarbone earlier, when you touched my robes.”

Leonard went a bright red, and his respiratory distress seemed genuine this time. He leapt off of the bed, putting the distance of the width of the room between them. “Fucking shit, Spock? Why didn’t y’tell me! Fucking touch-telepathy, that was probably stupidly invasive, wasn’t it? Shit, shit, shit! I’m sorry. I’m fucking dense, I thought- I don’t know what I was doing, shouldn’t’ve gone near you-”

“Calm yourself Leonard-”

“And now you’re too polite to call me out on it, goddammit, we had lectures on proper conduct with vulcans, fuck-”

“Leonard.” Spock had stood and walked over to the human. Leonard was shocked when Spock put his hand on his shoulder. “There is no offence taken, do you understand?”. Leonard seemed to have lost his voice, but nodded. “I only brought up the incident because I sensed only concern and concentration from you through the contact. There was no bitterness, no concern for your pride or reputation. You saw your patient and thought of nothing but how best to administer effective and efficient treatment.”

Leonard had not made any indication of wanting to brush off his hand, so Spock decided to return to the personal space he had occupied while Leonard had been scanning him earlier. Leonard blinked several times, eyes crossing slightly to stare at the tip of Spock’s nose, only an inch, maybe less, from his own. His mouth suddenly went dry, and he swallowed hard, once. Spock’s nose had never looked so kissable. He shook his head- not an appropriate thought to be having while Spock was, wait, what was Spock saying? Leonard could hear him speaking, but his brain wasn’t processing the words correctly. Or at all. He thought maybe he was complimenting him, or maybe trying to get Leonard to explain his dry, almost self-critical comment. Hell, Spock could be reciting Shakespeare for all Leonard knew. Or cared. The vulcan’s voice was deeper than it was normally, more like it was when he had been sleepily pouring his tea earlier, less like it had been for their shared life up until today. The vibration of this deeper voice reminded him of the purring, the utter relaxation and warmth that had accompanied those vibrations, and... and Spock was still talking and Leonard still had no idea what he was saying because his mouth was moving very nicely, had his mouth always moved that nicely?

“BONES!” That voice would pull Leonard out of any dazed stupor he could possibly fall into. That voice, with that tone always meant one of two things. Jim needed his help, or Jim had done something he needed to confess to that would probably piss Leonard off. “BONES? YOU HOME?”

Spock had somehow managed to perch himself on the edge of Leonard’s desk, textbook and notes in hand, pointedly not looking at Bones. Rolling his eyes, Leonard walked out into the living area. “What the fuck have you done, Jim?” 

“Bones!” Jim practically bounced over to the med student, which meant he’d absolutely fucked something up that was going to piss him off. Clapping his shoulder playfully, Jim used the momentum of his bounce to swing himself around Bones, heading for his room. “You’re not going to believe what a weird mix-up there’s been, man! So, look, I-why, hello, Mr.Spock!” Jim glanced over his shoulder with an “i-cannot-believe-you-got-the-hot-guy-we’ve-both-been-crushing-on-into-your-room’ look on his face, his mouth slightly open and his eyes comically large in mock disbelief. “What’s a hot guy like you doing in a dingy place like this?” He had turned his impish gaze back on Spock, gesturing vaguely around Leonard’s room as he mentioned the ‘dingy place’.

Spock’s face remained impassive, not betraying the flash of amusement he always felt when the younger human flirted blatantly with him. “Vulcans’ core temperatures are, on average, actually lower than that of humans.”

Where Leonard would’ve snapped back a witty counter attack in order to incite a fascinating debate, Jim simply leaned right into the lewd implications only he could draw from such a droll, basic fact. “Are you saying that you think Bones and I are hot, Mr.Spock?”. The man had far more confidence in his charismatic abilities than any other human Spock had seen knocking their own glasses off of their face when discussing something passionately with a lecturer.

Spock was about to fire back a response -noting in the back of his mind that of the friendships he had deliberately built with a select few humans in the hopes of appeasing his mother, the ones he had formed with Jim and Leonard, though not particularly strong yet, brought him a feeling of completion- when Leonard came into the room, red-faced and rolling his eyes. “Shut up, Jim, you’ll make him uncomfortable. Vulcans don’t flirt, that’d require expression of emotion.”

Spock raised an eyebrow at Leonard, mildly puzzled. Had Leonard not recognised their discussion before Jim had arrived for what it was? Was his respect and admiration of the medical student not clear?

“What is it you’ve done, Jim?” Bones had leaned himself against the door frame, staring fixedly at his ex-roommate, who was glancing between Spock and Bones with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. 

“Well, I was going to apologise for a stupid thing I did, but seeing as it wound up with all three of us in a room with a bed, I’d say no apologies needed.” Jim couldn’t keep a straight face delivering that line, his flirtatious demeanour crumbling into pure giddiness. “Sorry, sorry, I’ll stop. S’just weird seeing the two of you together, it’s like you guys exist separately in my mind, and seeing you getting cosy in Bones’s room is just so wacky-“

“Jim!” Bones’s bark made Jim laugh even harder, and Spock allowed the corner of his mouth to twitch ever so slightly as Jim’s merriment grew and Leonard became more and more flustered. These humans affected Spock more than he’d care to admit, and watching them interact brought a sense of contentedness over him. “It’s fucking crazy o clock in the morning, what in the hell could’y’ve done that y’need to confess so bad?”

“Small scheduling error, Bones, no big deal! In my defence, I didn’t realise how late it is, I was reading this really cool book that Galia’s sister sent her, so far it’s been absolutely gripping, can’t put it down-“

“Jim.”

His blue eyes darted around the room nervously as he giggled anxiously. “You don’t have a test tomorrow, Bones, I do. I fucked up and logged it in the PADD you’d loaned me instead of my own PADD, so I guessed you got a reminder and I know your memory is shit outside of your studies, so I figured you’d be up cramming-“

“Jim-boy, what’d you just say? Because if you said what I think you said, I’m going to-“

“Leonard, I would not recommend engaging in a physical altercation with Jim. He has considerable more experience in such matters.”

Spock felt a shiver down his spine as Leonard’s dangerously icy glare turned on him. “Are you sayin’ y’don’t think I can take ‘im, Spock?”

“That is not what he said Bones! C’mon, how bad was it? You got to bond with your roommate, and now my two best friends are on speaking terms, at least. Sounds like a win-win to me!”

“I’m gonna need the two of y’all to get the fuck outta my room, if I’m going to get any sleep at all before tomorrow.” 

Jim’s smirk got even more mischievous, the glint in his eye almost dangerous. “Maybe we’ve planned for you to get no sleep tonight, Bones.”

“I resent your implicating me in your antics, Jim.” Spock was definitely grinning, goddammit! There’s no way a vulcan could manoeuvre their mouths any further into a vague smiling shape.

“You’re not denying it-”

“Both of y’all need to shut up and go to bed, it’s late.” Leonard groused, having had enough of Jim’s playfulness, which was a bit too much for how late it was. Also, the thoughts and feelings he was invoking in Leonard with his meaningless teasing were enough for him to overthink on for the rest of his life. Jim’s pout made Bones fully aware of just how much he wouldn’t mind kissing his best friend, which reminded him of how close he had been to doing just that to his roommate, which reminded him of how it was just his fucking luck to be attracted to the two people he most defiantly shouldn’t be attracted to. The two most unattainable people on campus. He was probably a sadist. Jim sat next to Spock on his bed, and Spock had turned to mutter something in Jim’s ear. On his bed. He was absolutely a sadist. 

“That’s a good point, Spock. I think it’ll be difficult to strong-arm him into spending more time with the two of us as well.”

Spock had the good grace to look up at Leonard with what could be interpenetrated as an apologetic expression. “Those were not my... exact words.”

“I’m a med student, not a socialite, dammit!” Jim was sitting very close to Spock, they looked so right together it was sickening, and Spock was clearly mooning over Jim, and Bones... Bones needed to sleep. Now. “I’ll come over to your place tomorrow after I get out of the labs at six, Jim. If Spock comes, he comes. I don’t care.” He did care. A lot. 

“Seeing as two of us live in these quarters, it would be more logical for us to reconvene here, would it not?” 

“Nah, Jim’s got a better replicator.”

“I’ve also got better taste in holos, so...”

“You absolutely do not-”

“I don’t think watching documentaries counts as a relaxing night in-”

“I shall be there, eighteen-hundred hours.” Spock interrupted, his expression doing nothing to ease the daydreams determinedly banging at Leonard’s subconscious as he looked between the two humans. That odd eyelid-thing slid open and shut twice, which Leonard probably shouldn’t have found cute when he didn’t know whether or not it was hurting Spock. But he did, nonetheless. 

Jim clapped Spock’s shoulder, which stopped the eyelid blinking, and resulted in a rather cat-like freezing of his entire frame. “Excellent!” Jim jumped up, bouncing out the bedroom door. “It’s a date, gentlemen!” And he was gone before Leonard’s outraged spluttering could hold him up. 

“It’s not a- dammit, we’re not- Spock-”

Spock stopped to place his hand on Leonard’s shoulder, deliberately making eye-contact. “To borrow Jim’s turn of phrase, ‘it’s a date’, Leonard.” 

And that rendered Leonard totally speechless, left staring mutely at Spock’s retreating back. What the fuck kind of emotional fuckery had he gotten himself into?  

[theasstour]

hello miss nora🧚🏼‍♀️i have a question- when did you know what you wanted to study in uni / do after graduating? i’ll be entering my 2nd yr of uni in the fall & i’m a bit stressed about if i chose the right path of study / what i’ll do after graduation ? xoxox

Hiya bumblebee 🥰 I’ve kind of always had this one passion in life, I’ve always known I’ve wanted to end up working and dedicating all my time to literature! At one point I wanted to become a vet, but I’m not very good with any science subjects so ajoifjwoijfwerioj! I didn’t even hesitate to study English Literature so I’ve never stressed about studying it. I know that work won’t pay much wherever I end up, but I’ve never needed much and I’ll be happy so idc!

Since I’ve never questioned my own path, I can’t even imagine what it must be like to not be sure if you’ve chosen the right one for you! I did a lil Google search and found a few questions you might ask yourself if you’re still a little confused! Here they are! There are quite a few, so hopefully it helps!

I know that you probably want to have a good idea of what your future looks like, knowing what’s to come calms us down and it gives us reassurance we’re moving in the right direction. But trust yourself! Trust your intentions, your goals, and your choices! Life will get you where you’re supposed to be; it will always balance itself out and hand you the same type of energy you give out into the universe 🥰 You will find the path meant for you, I promise you! Life always works out 💖

[tomoyanosekai]

One Year Later, Five Years Later ~今のできること~ (Ima no dekiru koto: What I Can Do Right Now)

This is dedicated to everyone whom I’ve met through these past few years. Thank you for everything. 

I’m not gonna lie, there’s nothing much to do during quarantine. Most days, I’m stuck inside trying to find something to do, and any opportunity to go out at this point for me is a real treat, considering the fact that I have nowhere to be, aside from home. In this case, that rare chance of going out to help out at my Grandma’s house was one such moment when I could go outside and get a change of scenery. In most normal cases, usually before leaving the house, a force of habit for me was that I’d always grab my keys and School ID; a large and noticeable card holder with my keys that was hung from my pants belt loop. Having it on me at all times was always a mainstay and necessity for me for the past five years of my daily life. This time however, was different. Before leaving the house, my Dad asked me this:

“Why’re you still carrying that? You don’t need to carry that with you anymore, do you?”

It dawned on me then that I didn’t need to carry it anymore. That’s right; I’m officially done with my classes. April has probably been the least eventful month so far this year, but it does carry some emotional weight. At this point, it’s been one year since my original intended graduation date, and life since then has changed dramatically. 

“One year.” It’s been one year since I went through an emotionally challenging time where I found out I wasn’t graduating after fighting Biola for some time, followed by the parting of ways between many of my friends due to graduation. But at the same time, it’s been one year since I found out I was going to Japan for the summer to fulfill a childhood dream of mine. In between then and now, it’s amazing to think that so much has changed over one whole year. Within that one year since then, I finally went to Japan and lived out my childhood dream, came back and got a job at a ramen shop, messed up my second attempt in graduating, got into a hit and run accident, went back to my roots at a community college via an acting class, saw my good friends get married, and coming into the present, I’m currently quarantined alongside the whole world due to a global virus. A lot happened within that one year since then. One year later, here I am now, quarantined but with all my classes finished and I’m finally able to graduate… At some point, whenever graduation happens and the whole COVID-19 panic dies down. 

Like I wrote earlier, this month marked the end of my acting class at ELAC, and I managed to pass with flying colors. With classes over and graduation happening eventually, I’m officially done with school, but even with my collegiate time coming to an end, the world for me is still on pause. I still have no job, I can’t go anywhere and I can’t really do anything to move forward. Within the free time that I’ve had to just live life, the only question I’ve been asking myself is this: 

 “What can I do right now?” 

In all honesty: there’s not much I can do, since I’m limited in what I can do. Throughout this whole month of quarantine, I’ve been cooking, trying to exercise/jog/go for long walks to think about life, playing Animal Crossing, and watching TV Shows via Netflix and Hulu. In short: I’ve been doing my best not to become a couch potato, but in the end, that’s sort of what I’ve been becoming whether I liked it or not. As much as I run and walk every day and look into other job opportunities to try and continue moving forward, it’s still been lonely in the end. Loneliness has been hitting me extremely hard within these times, and it’s been really easy to get into my own head and thoughts and get discouraged. Nonetheless, I’ve been trying to keep some semblance of hope during these hard times for both myself and everyone else I interact with. However, I’ve been learning to take it even slower. The thing I found most relaxing was cleaning and reorganizing my room since I never really had the time or chance to do that since coming back from Japan. 

During my time of cleaning, I’ve been rediscovering things from the past five years of college. Each thing that I found I was at least able to find one thing from every big thing that left a giant impact on me throughout college. Each item represented important memories and experiences that went into shaping me. 

Spring Cleaning through Five Years’ Worth of Nostalgia

From all the time spent in classes and at different jobs, to every hard and frustrating moment that broke me, to the fun and great times shared with friends, to all the people I met through my dorm in Sigma and Hope Rising; along with everyone else in between and beyond, to even going to Japan and living out my dreams; it’s been one heck of a journey.  I’ve been reminded of the adventures I lived through and experienced with each hard lesson coming one after another. Although I haven’t officially graduated yet, this five year journey I’ve been on now finally comes to a close. Just like my journey to get me to this point, and looking into the present, although we’re living in hard times, I think these verses are only fitting. As it is written in Hebrews 12:1-2, 

“...And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, 2 fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God” 

It’s been one year since I made mistakes, which led to an even bigger opportunity on a global stage to live my childhood dream. Likewise, it’s been five years since this whole journey began for me, where I met so many great and fantastic people and grew a ton. I know that I will graduate for sure sometime sooner or later, but just as I persevered, I know myself, along with everyone else, will get through this. Just like Paul writes in 2 Timothy 4:7,

“7 I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.”

Whenever this COVID-19 panic ends, we’ll get there; there’s no doubt about it.

For now, this marks the unofficial end of my college journey at Biola University.

Wherever the next stage is, I’ll go out and claim it (eventually.)

From here on out, it’s our stage!!

[kieranoruadhain]

Awakening (Continued)

Short story WIP. Mature content warning. Parts 1-3: http://khyranoisin.tumblr.com/post/166063662238/awakening

four Months of routine came and went. No matter how hard or how long he was drilled for, Kyrahn was not a healer. Day in and day out, he failed. Any burst of Light that came forth in his hands always, always burned whatever it touched. He wasn’t sure if he would ever learn. Some days, he wondered why he was even here. He didn’t need to graduate, like some of the other students did at the behest of family, honor or country. He could just pack up and leave, if he wanted to.

But go where?         

For some, they were here because they wanted freedom. For others, it meant becoming a ranking medic in the Stormwind army. Some wanted to dedicate their lives to the Light and leave the Abbey as a licensed, freelance healer or preacher. Some, after graduating, might never leave the Abbey at all.

Others were simply here because they had nowhere else to go, and didn’t know what to do with their lives once they left. They knew, though, that whatever was out there must be better than in here. They would equip themselves with skills necessary to survive the world beyond, and leave with a hope that they could forge their life into something greater than what they were given.

Kyrahn was one of those. And that was why he still stayed.

The dreams still plagued him, as well as his friendlessness. Jackie and the others sometimes treated him well, but left him generally alone. The rumors would die down and spark up again, depending on how prominent he made himself during the seminars.

He was not outright mistreated, or hated, and he considered himself fortunate in that fact. But his peers didn’t seem to know how to speak to him, or approach him, because the same was true for him. He was a man of few words, and only bothered speaking if he considered it exceptionally important.

More often than not, he spoke in disagreement.

He’d disagree with his professors and peers on many points, often landing him in philosophical debates on the dichotomy of good and evil, mercy and justice, cause and effect. And the more grey his lessons became, the more uncomfortable he was. In his world of blacks and whites, there was always a shadow of relativity looming over him.  

An ultimate truth always remained inches from his grasp.

It was a breezy winter morning and the classroom was so cold, everyone sat huddled on the benches that encircled the lecture hall. Professor Heather paced in her usual manner, though she seemed a bit brisker in her movements today. She was probably trying to keep warm.

“Kyrahn Oisin,” were the first words she spoke.

Kyrahn stiffened where he sat.

“Do you remember, six months ago, when you let captive gnolls free?”

Kyrahn nodded.

“The female one is reported to have attacked a soldier naught several days ago.”

Kyrahn’s eyes widened. He felt the class’s eyes on him. “How did you know it was her?"

“The brand."

Kyrahn felt sick. He sat frozen in silence.

“The winter months have left many gnoll tribes in the area starved. Though the soldier survived, he reported that the gnolls who attacked him were trying to eat him.” Heather continued to pace. “My report states that when he went missing, several soldiers left to search for his patrol. They rescued him and slaughtered the gnolls in the campsite.”

“I knew we should have killed them when we had the chance!” Derick barked. “Someone could’ve been killed, Kyrahn! How could you have lived with that, huh!?”

Kyrahn buried his face in his hands, saying nothing.

“I don’t think he could live with killing a helpless child, either, even if it was a gnoll.” Heather spoke in his defense. “We, as servants of the Light, must face and accept this world of cause and effect. If we free the rabbit from the trap, we rob the fox of its meal. In this world, even our righteousness can be rewarded with agony. Such as the rain and lightning falls on the holy and unholy in equal measure, the consequences of good decisions may lead to bitter ends.”

“If… if that man died. It… w-would have been my fault… wouldn’t it?” Kyrahn said.

“In a way… yes.”

Kyrahn had no arguments that day.

Nor did he remember how he managed to enter the storage room at midnight with a rope in his hands.

He found himself looking up, examining the rafters, tugging a wooden chair behind him. His mind was blank, save for the image of a blood-soaked hallway, the landscape of his only recurring dream.

He didn’t hate himself. His life wasn’t awful. He would even say he enjoyed living, no matter the constant nightmares or the aching in his damaged leg. But he felt guilty for living. He couldn’t lie to himself anymore. Every day he lived was greeted with an overwhelming sense of shame, as though he was surviving on someone else’s time. He didn’t know why. He couldn’t explain it to himself.

And maybe it was for the best that he stopped trying.

He looked for a place among the rafters of the storage room to tie the rope. He’d figure out how to prepare the noose later. He finally found a good place- a hole in the wood that seemed strong enough to bear his meager weight. His hands trembled violently as he tried to tie the knot.

Don’t think about it. Just do it.

His hands were shaking too much. He couldn’t even stay properly balanced on the chair he was using to reach the ceiling. His peg-leg wasn’t helping matters.

Just as he was about to fit the rope through the hole, he heard footsteps outside. Every muscle in his body tensed and he yanked the rope free and tossed it as far as he could, where it landed behind some barrels.

The door to the storage room flung open and a whistling cook began to descend the stairs into the cellar. When he saw Kyrahn standing there on his chair, looking like a cornered mouse, he stopped whistling.

“Wot’re you doin’ in ‘ere?”

Kyrahn gaped like a fish out of water, searching for words. “Uh- I. I… w-was… trying to… reach that bread.” He pointed to a shelf conveniently close to where he was standing.

The cook gave him a skeptical look, then shrugged. “I’ll get it for ya, then. Get down from there, eh?”

Kyrahn stopped arguing during his lectures, and the next several weeks had left him more silent than he had ever been. He would not even answer when a peer asked him how he was doing, in that annoyingly casual way people start conversations when they don’t really mean what they’re saying.

Nothing triggered the desire. No particular incident, no particular murmur in the hallways, no particular recollection of a dream he was already so accustomed to. His decision was not fueled by hatred for his own life.

The slow, steady buildup of tension was the only source of his agony, like a droplet of water hitting his forehead in the exact same place for hours, days, months. Each drop carried a thought: "you don't deserve to live." And with each drop, the thought was absorbed deeper and deeper through his skin and skull until it permeated every ounce of his thoughts.

It was hard to concentrate on life when the only thoughts in his head was how to end it. No one usually locked the doors to the infirmary, where the more experienced healers kept first aid and natural remedies for more severe cases. He stole every vial he could find off the shelves, no matter what their labels said. Some were health potions, some pain relievers, some sleeping droughts- others he didn’t care to observe- he took them all. He stuffed his pockets with them and wandered away. Should he go outside? No… too risky. A night watch would notice him. He found himself in a nearby supply closet. He uncorked the vials, one by one, and drank them. All thirty-eight of them.

“I knew he was unhappy, but… this?”

A dull humming filled his ears, ceaseless. Occasionally, a voice broke the lull. His throat burned and scratched. He tried to will his eyelids open, but they wouldn’t budge.

“How we doing?”

“Still has a pulse. The treatment is working.”

Kyrahn’s attention lapsed. He could still hear voices, but they took no form in his mind. The dull humming in his ears droned on until he forgot it was there. An uncomfortable warmth and pressure filled his abdomen and he gave a soft groan.

“Kyrahn.”

Somebody said his name. He ignored it. His attention lapsed again. The warmth and the humming persisted. He might have been sleeping, or dying. Of that, he wasn’t certain. Maybe dying felt a lot like sleeping.

“Kyrahn."

Somebody said his name again. A different voice. Janice. This time, he fought. His eyelids fluttered and opened. Wherever he was, it was bright and the light stung his eyes. He closed them again, but she knew he was awake. 

“Can you speak?”

Kyrahn tried to respond. He managed a weak “hello”. His voice sounded like sandpaper. His throat felt like it, too.

“You’ve been in and out of consciousness for three days. You were on death’s door. You’re very fortunate someone heard you having a seizure in the closet naught a few minutes after you did what you did.”

Kyrahn blinked at Janice’s face, partially to clear his vision, and partially because he could hardly remember what she was talking about.

“I told you if you should remember anything, you needed to speak to me.” Her voice was strained with exhaustion. Kyrahn wasn’t sure if she was upset or annoyed.

“I don’t, though.”

“Then why did you do this?”

He didn’t meet her eyes. “A feeling.”

“What sort of feeling?”

Kyrahn didn’t reply. Janice then spoke.

“What do you remember?”

He still didn’t reply.

“Kyrahn.” Janice said firmly.

He looked up at her.

“Will you tell me what you remember?”

“Nothing. Just a feeling. Like I’m supposed to be dead but I’m not… and it’s unfair.”

The look in Janice’s eyes made Kyrahn uncomfortable. She seemed less upset and more disappointed.

“I did something very bad. Don’t try lying about it. Why else would I have no memories?  Why else would I know that I am supposed to die?” Kyrahn asked, though it seemed more like a statement than a question. “Did you do it? Did you wipe my memories?” Janice straightened a little. “No.” He watched her stony face. He wasn’t sure if he believed her.

“It doesn’t matter how you lost your memories. You’re a fresh mind in an old body now. So make something of it.” She said.

“I’ve not a fresh mind."

Janice’s expression hardened again and she straightened in the bedside chair. “You have two options. You can accept that you’re alive, and whatever regret you feel from your past, you can atone for it by doing good deeds and saving people’s lives. Become the greatest healer in Stormwind. Or, you can throw that away and die useless and alone. You won’t be appeasing any gods or souls, and I worry for your afterlife.”

When Kyrahn met her with lingering silence, Janice stood up. “I’ll be checking on you again in a few hours. I hope you’ve made a decision by then. And I hope you’ll make the right one.” five

Two weeks passed. On occasion, a student would shyly visit him- Jackie and a few girls, mostly- but he was left generally alone. He preferred it that way. Everyone in the entire Abbey knew what had happened and none of them said a word about it around him. What was there to say? “Sorry you almost died, glad you’re okay?”  As far as he knew, there wasn’t even any whispering about him anymore. That was perhaps the best thing that had come of the whole incident. Apparently the best way to free himself of the rumors and teasing and stares was to nearly die for it.  Janice made him promise that he wouldn’t do anything stupid again. She made him vow upon the Light’s name to pursue the healing arts and eventually leave the Abbey a full-fledged healer. She told him it was the sort of thing that would atone for whatever sins his old life bore. And Kyrahn almost believed her, if only he could succeed in doing anything other than destructive magic. He wasn’t sure he would ever succeed. He wasn’t always able to attend lectures or prayers, but he tried his very best when he did. But people kept a close eye on him. His peers, guards, the ranking priests- people were always watching him, as if expecting him to fly off the handle. It made him uncomfortable, and he wasn’t sure what to do about it. An exceptionally beautiful and green spring morning greeted the Abbey, and the morning found Kyrahn making his slow way from the early prayers to locate something suitable for breakfast when he was stopped by an odd sight near the entryway. Almost every student in the Abbey was lined up at the massive arched doors of the Abbey entrance. Kyrahn blinked, wondering just what he was missing. He made his way into the entrance hall, and the voice of Professor Heather became clear. “...to put everything you’ve learned into practice tonight. You will be evaluated by High Priestess Laurena herself. It is she who will determine which of you are ready to move up to the more advanced classes at the Stormwind cathedral. Any questions?” A student up front raised her hand. “What happens if we fail?” “‘Fail’ is a bit of an inaccurate term. Priestess Laurena will evaluate the areas in which you are lacking and will recommend that you re-take courses in those areas before accepting to see you again for a re-evaluation.” “So we WOULD get held back, then?” “Well, yes.” There was some fidgeting among the lines of students. As Kyrahn came closer, he heard the professor announce, “Well, let’s be off, then.” They began to exit the front doors, into the startlingly vivid outdoors. Kyrahn squinted in the light, then

he attempted to follow the procession of students. Professor Heather noticed this and stopped at the doors while the rest of the students were still leaving. Her eyes met his and Kyrahn froze. “Yes, Kyrahn?” “I… uh. Aren’t… I supposed to be going?” “Unfortunately not. You were not selected to attend.” There was an uncomfortable silence. Then, Kyrahn asked, “...is it because I missed last session…?” “No, it is because you are not ready. You’re very unwell.” Kyrahn puffed his chest out. “I’m ready.”

The professor’s voice came much more sternly. “No, you are not.” She states. “You almost killed yourself. You can’t cast healing spells. Your mind and your body are too weak.”

Kyrahn’s stiffened shoulders relaxed into a slump. Without another word, he turned, and headed back down the hall towards the dormitories.

Crickets sang their songs at the moon outside Kyrahn’s window. It must have been eleven-o-clock by the time the other men returned to the dormitories, all chattering excitedly about their evaluations. Kyrahn turned to watch the procession enter from his bedside, scanning their faces. When he noticed Jackie bringing up the rear, looking a little bit unhappy, Kyrahn stared at him. He seemed to understand the silent invitation to speak, and he came closer. “Did you fail?” Jackie sighed. “One of the categories, yeah. The, uh, defensive techniques. Shields n’ stuff have never been my strength… I wasn’t really surprised.” Kyrahn nodded. Then, he said suddenly, “I need you to help me get there.” Jackie paused. “Uh… what?” “She wouldn’t take me. Uh, Professor Heather. I want my evaluation, too.” “What, tonight? I’m tired, man- and the night shift will be different there.” “No, this morning. Early. Before anyone else wakes up.” Jackie pressed his lips into a thin line and looked away. “I can’t take you there, Ky. We’ll get in trouble.” “No one will have to know.” “Stormwind’s at least a three hour walk from here. By the time we get back, they’ll wonder where we’ve gone. Breaking curfew and all that…”

Kyrahn sighed and looked away. “Right.” An uncomfortable silence lingered. Jackie broke it. “You’re not going to try to go alone, are you?” Kyrahn didn’t answer. Then, the faintest hint of a smile played at his lips. “You’re crazy! You’ll die! A single wolf will sniff you out and kill you with a bite to your ankles!” “I’m not that weak.” Jackie let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine, if you want to be all suicidal again, then do it! I’m tired of worrying about you.” With that, he headed off to his bunk, leaving Kyrahn to ponder in silence.

Morning came quicker than he was ready. Dressed in his best robes, Kyrahn slipped on his shoe, adjusted his peg-leg, picked up his walking stick and headed wearily for the doors. He descended the spiral staircase leading into the main hall, where he examined his environment closely. As usual, there was a night watch at the doorway, but he was quiet, unresponsive, leaning against the wall with his head against it. Kyrahn wondered if he was asleep. He snuck across the threshold and reached the heavy doorway. The night watchman didn’t even budge. Kyrahn grasped the handle of the door and pulled the latch, pushing it open. The creaking seemed all too loud, echoing through the hall. The guard against the wall muttered, but did not move. Kyrahn drew in a deep breath and escaped into the night air. He stayed off the road, in fear of patrols finding him. He slipped between the trees, heading for the walls which kept the Abbey secluded from the rest of Elwynn. When he saw the distant flickering of a torch, he stayed in the shadows until the patrol passed, before he continued on. However, just as he reached the walls, he heard a sharp whisper from behind him. He stiffened. “Ky!” He whirled around, catching sight of a familiar young, blond-headed man weaving between the trees. “Don’t forget me.” He said with a cheeky grin

[wumbleberry-fc]

Chai, Flowering Tea, Blueberry-muffin Tea, Kombucha

Chai: Where do you want to travel next?

I would like to visit Canada, since I’m going to live within 60 miles of the border real soon, and I would also like to visit more states in the US, as I have been in 20 states now (not including only being in an airport).

Flowering Tea: What is a movie you can always watch?

I am always down to see the movie Airplane! It’s hilarious I recommend it with high regards.

Blueberry-muffin Tea: Tell me a memory that makes you smile.

This is the story of June 2nd. (WARNING: VERY LONG)

So, the last assembly of the school year is dedicated to the senior class, and it’s known as the Senior Assembly. It features speeches by a couple students, final performances by senior drillers and senior cheerleaders, a performance by ‘Man Drill’ (where some male juniors dress up and perform in a hilarious parody of what regular drill might do, meme style), performances by any senior soloists or groups of senior students who wish to play something for the class (2016 featured a lovely original jazzy performance by all the senior brass, and then some students sang ‘Fix You,’ among other things), announcements of the staff who will be leaving with the seniors, department honors,  and then there is a moving up thing where each class transitions to the next class, and the seniors go into the middle of the gym and watch a slideshow of whatever pictures the students sent in, and then the band plays the alma mater for the last time for them (also, they play at the entrance procession as well).

This year, it was combined with Gordy Games, which is a day where pretty much classes are super short, and then it’s a fun, casual day, with food trucks on campus, bouncy houses, a dodgeball tournament, video games, a movie, and yearbook distribution, where anybody can go wherever they want and nobody cares what you do, so long as it’s legal. It’s the one day where no administrator even semi-actively tries to enforce the no underclassman off-campus policy, and it’s just a super easy day to not worry about the end-of-year stress and just be kids for a day.

Well, this year, I was one of the three seniors who gave a speech. Back in late April, word was sent that they were looking for seniors interested in speaking at graduation. One student would speak at graduation, a couple would speak at the Senior Assembly, and one would speak at the Last Lesson.

Only a total of 7 of us even bothered to draft a potential speech. A week after writing the draft and presenting it to a panel of teachers (on May 1st), I found out that I was one of those chosen for the Senior Assembly (which was the one I wanted).

Flash forward a bit: Three days before the assembly, I was pulled from my last period and told to report to the principal. When I got there, she told me that a meeting should’ve happened way earlier but she was swamped. She then told me that there was no flow in my speech at all, there seemed to be no clear point, and it needed to be completely rewritten, and so I promised that I’d have a brand new speech written with a point and a flow by lunch the next day (Yep! 21 hours to rewrite from scratch a 5-minute speech).

The next day, which just so happens to be my birthday, I had my new speech printed out and ready, and I was a ball of nerves as I walked into her office at 11:30. She had me read the new speech, and she said “This is a million times better, thank you. I approve of this speech,” and I was so relieved oh my goodness.

Now onto the day of the event and the happy memories!

It was a late start Friday (8:50 instead of 7:20), but we had to be there by 6:30, which was fine. We did the run-through of things, and when us three speakers finished, we were able to go, and I joined the philharmonic orchestra in a zero period rehearsal to practice our combined pieces for the concert the week after, and then we had 12 minute classes.

The entrance was long but I loved walking in to the sounds of everyone cheering for our class with the band playing some pep tunes and it was great! There was a greeting, the drill performance, the first speaker (who was alright, not very emotionally stirring or anything. It was... speechy.), the cheerleaders, the Man Drill, and then it was my turn.

I went up to the podium, and gave this speech:

Hello. I am Alex Walter, and I have one thing to say:

I love Hazen.

Well, I have more to say than just that. I stand here before you today representing the senior class. I am not a Representative of the class, I am not the four-year three-sport varsity athlete, I am not the most popular guy in the class—I am a regular, run-of-the-mill senior student. Except for one thing.

I love Oliver M. Hazen Senior High School. After 4 years, not many of the 388 of us can say the same. While I don’t hold the belief that ‘Hazen is whack,’ I do understand where it comes from.

It began four years ago, when 368 of us sat in these bleachers for the first time as a Hazen student. At our orientation, we were oriented to Hazen, told the rules and guidelines, and given our first warning about our culminating project. Immediately after, we forgot our way around, nobody remembered to not clump around in major hallways and stairwells, and were told not to put off our culminating project. Four years later, and we still don’t know the bell schedule, where everything is in the school, how to keep walking in the hallways, and what the culminating project is.

Furthermore, thanks to No Child Left Behind, we were privileged to have the opportunity to take all these BRAND NEW Standardized Tests. Wasn’t that Smarter Balanced Assessment Consortium fun!? And how about that new version of the SAT WITH Essay?!

Miscommunication, though, is one of the biggest reasons Hazen isn’t always kept in the highest regard. I miss the days where the food services accounts emailed about a low balance $5.00 before overdrafting, instead of $5.00 after. I’m waiting for the day when the system finally marks excused absences as excused. Especially when I was in the Lecture Hall all day. And speaking of the Lecture Hall, as I pointed out there during the Constitutional Convention, it took three and a half years to find out how to check how many detention hours I had. Luckily, despite not being the best student, I didn’t have any.

Beyond all of this, though, we must keep in mind that, just like life, Hazen is more than a few things. Hazen has many layers, just like onions, ogres, and all of us. We are more than our grades and test scores. We have our special interests, hobbies, priorities, and lifestyles. Our beloved Assistant Principal Mr. ____ is more than a strict disciplinarian. He is a loving father, a fantastic dancer, and the best reader of Green Eggs and Ham that I have ever met! And Hazen is more than kids who don’t listen, government-mandated and -implemented educational standards, and faulty electronic systems.

Hazen provides amazing acceptance and diversity in both opportunities and activities. Seriously, last year we formed a club where we would literally sit around and play Super Smash Bros. Brawl for an hour and a half each week. And that is on top of D&D club and Gamer’s Guild club.

We have a Gay Straight Alliance, a Black Student Union, an Asian Student Coalition, and a Latino Student Union. We have the Yearbook, the Kilt, and Lit Mag, which all feature superb writing and artwork! We have a drama department that puts on an astounding two shows a year, or in the case of this year, eight! We have top-class, state championship-winning FBLA, Drill, Cheer, Choir, Orchestra, and Band programs! WE HAVE A MARCHING BAND!!!!! We have a school store operated by DECA that introduced me to the wonderful world of bagels. We even have athletics!, who, while they might not win all their games, they win spots in our hearts.

I personally don’t participate in all of these activities and groups, as, well, it’s hard to be an active member in seven groups who all meet at 2:15 on Thursday. But the ability to have so many choices to pick and choose from is brilliant.

It’s these choices that define our Hazen experience. For me, I chose to join the band. I joined a group that not only gets to make music, but gets to support our school and our community. I got to scream, or cheer, to my heart’s content and dance like nobody was watching at games. I got to play stand tunes and pop songs for you all. I got to grow as an individual in both musical maturity and emotional maturity. I gained an accepting environment filled with friendly people. And by marching this year, I even got the athletic component in and did some physical exercise. I got the full Hazen experience, all in one.

It’s our choices that characterize and embody Hazen as a whole, and, I have to say that I don’t want to leave. You make me proud to be a Highlander. You make Hazen a place I want to be at. You make Hazen a place I love.

I’ll miss you.

(I know at least two people who recorded my speech, but I still haven’t seen either of them so I can’t provide that for you guys, but it was beautiful!)

After that, it was a Orchestral Quartet, the final senior speaker (who’s speech was sad and deep), the senior dances, the farewells to the departing teachers, the moving up, the slideshow, and then we left for Gordy Games.

At Gordy Games, I kept receiving compliments on my speech, and I hung out with my three greatest friends. We ended up bailing the school, and went an got Thai food at a place about a mile from campus, and then walked over to a park another mile away and had a picnic and it was my first ever picnic type thing and we just sat there for over 2 hours eating and talking and hanging out and it was like the best ever, and then we walked another 2 miles back to one of our houses, and departed from there at around 5, after 4.5 hours together.

And every time I think about that day, my face just brightens up completely, because it was the four of us, together, completely happy on a stress-free afternoon being best friends and I love them all and that is one of the happiest days of my life!

TL;DR: A speech that I had to rewrite last-minute for a school-wide assembly went brilliantly well and afterwards I hung out with my 3 favorite people (that I’ve met physically) and had an even better time, for one of the best days in my life.

Kombucha: What do you order on pizza?

Either an all meat pizza, an all meat stuffed pizza, a cheese pizza, a sausage and green pepper pizza, or what I just found to be good, a chicken bacon ranch pizza.

-----

Thanks for the asks!!!

[itsmomorin]

Coffee and Notebooks

Coffee and Notebooks

- Dahyun Focus

Word Count: 1515

“Here’s your change, 65 cents, miss.” You stated politely.

The young girl took her change and thanked you as she proceeded down the line to wait for her frappuccino. With no more customers in line, you finally caught a small break to relax. Glancing towards your watch, you noticed that there was still half an hour before you got your actual break. I guess I’ll just restock some of our ingredients for the next wave of customers. Just then, you heard the bells jingle, indicating that a potential customer might have just entered. So, in response, you turned back to the front counter and waited patiently. But no one was there. Looking out from the counter, you wondered if they just came in to study, after all, the environment in the café was very tranquil, optimal for working in peace and quietness. You knew all the regular customers, so you would be able to easily detect someone new. Finally, you spotted the newcomer. She sat at a table all by herself, and upon close inspection, you could tell that she was frustrated or angry with something. Not that you really cared, since it really wasn’t any of your business. You’ve worked in this café for only 2 months, yet you feel like you know every nook and cranny like the back of your hand already. As you leaned onto the counter slightly and sighed, you wondered what you were going to do with the rest of your life. People often called you a genius since you graduated a few years earlier than others. However that didn’t solve your financial problem, and that’s why you were here, working away at a café near the local high school. Slowly saving up for the dream university that you wanted to go to, wherever that was, but for now, you had a solid routine going on.

Staring off into nothing, the new girl almost gave you a scare when she appeared right in front of you and spoke up.

“Uhm, excuse me?” She asked shyly. “Hm… oh, yeah, hey, hello. What can I get you?”  “I’d like a regular london fog latte please.”  “Yeah, of course, that’ll be $4.95.”

She gave you a quick and discreet smile before she began to take out her wallet. As you waited for her, you couldn’t help but notice that she was having trouble trying to find her wallet.

“Sorry, give me a second, I swear it was in here…” She muttered quietly to you. “Yeah, of course, take your time.” You replied with a grin.

After a few more minutes you decided that enough was enough, that if she didn’t have the money then she could order the drink when she did have the money. However, as you looked at her scramble around her bag for her wallet, you unexpectedly felt bad for her. Alright, just this once. I shouldn’t be so harsh on a newcomer anyways, what if she doesn’t come back?

“Hey…” You began. “I’m so sorry, I think I forgot my…” She cried, her voice breaking a little. “It’s okay. Don’t worry, it’s on the house.” You said calmly, trying to comfort her. “What? Really? Are you sure? Are you even allowed to do that?” She asked quickly. “Technically? Nope. Haha, it’s on me then.” You chuckled. “I can’t possibly let you do that…” “It’s really alright. If you really have to, then pay me back next time since my shift is about to end.”

She nodded respectfully, as she fully bent over to show her gratitude. You smiled, and turned to make the drink for her.

“Here you go! One large london fog latte.” You exclaimed cheerfully.  “I didn’t order a large…”

You shot her a quick look and she lowered her gaze again, but you were sure that you caught a slight smile before she lowered her head.

“Oh, are you a student at the high school nearby?” The girl quickly asked as you began to take off your uniform. “Hm? Oh, well yeah, I was.” “Was..?” A concerned expression suddenly washed over her face. “Oh no, no, I didn’t get kicked out. I just finished early because of… special circumstances.” You explained promptly.  “In that case… do you have anything right now? Can you please help me with something?” “Uh, I guess not… yeah sure, what is it?”

She motioned for you to follow her and so you followed her back to her table in the corner of the café. From the mess that was sprawled all over the table, you soon began to worry if you made the right decision, agreeing to helping her. She sat down, lifted, moved, and slided papers around the table, adding to the mess.

“So… this is calculus.” “And I am (Y/N).” “Oh, that’s right, my bad. My name is Dahyun and I’m a third year.”

You shook her hand gently, taking notice of a slight amount of sweat that was on her hands. As you sat opposite to her, you began to analyze the papers. She must’ve noticed, since she grew quiet and watched you while you tried to figure out which unit they were doing at this time of the year.

“As you can tell… I’m not very good with calculus… and I’ve been meaning to get a tutor for a long time but all of them are just too far away from my home.” Dahyun began. “And so, you want me to help you since I’m already graduated. I work in your neighbourhood café, and I’m technically your senior, since I finished school before you. Is that correct?” You asked with an intelligent glint in your eyes. “Yea… that’s actually exactly what I had in mind. You can decline of course, I don’t mean to impose any of this onto you… wait, what do you mean you’re ‘technically’ my senior, aren’t you?” “Uh, nevermind that. I’ll see what I can do.”

She nodded happily and waited for you to finish looking over the scattered papers. You grabbed a pencil and speedily corrected all of her mistakes with a few strokes.

“Uh, there you go. Done.” You said as you clapped your hands together. “I don’t really know what you just did though… can you explain it to me?”

Oh boy, I really got myself into something this time. Welp, I can’t just leave her hanging, might as well brush up on my calculus skills. You sighed discreetly, trying to hide your slight annoyance since you knew you sucked at explaining concepts, especially math concepts.

“I can try and explain it, I’m not very good with words though. I apologize in advance if I confuse you, do let me know.” “Oh sure, of course. Thanks so much, would you mind helping me every once in awhile? I’ll bring my wallet next time!” Dahyun pleaded.

You laughed and agreed. And as you began explaining the concept to her, you felt at ease, almost as if this was what you should have been doing for the past 2 months. Soon, one lesson became two, and two became four, and before you realized it, Dahyun was coming to the café at least 3 times a week. She began to bring in homework from other subjects, such as chemistry, biology, and history. Even though you should be annoyed with the workload, you slowly became expectant of Dahyun’s appearance. At the beginning of each lesson, she would always tell you how her day went, and you always listened intently as if the two of you were childhood friends.

One day, Dahyun showed up with no textbooks, and no bags with her. She strolled into the café and order her usual drink, the london fog latte and because she came so frequently, she knew that your shift was about to end.

“What? No homework today? You understand everything at school?” You questioned her jokingly as you slipped out of your uniform. “Mhm! Thanks to you, of course.” She replied with a wide grin. “I dropped by to see if you wanted to grab dinner with me. I want to properly thank you since you dedicated many hours to tutor me, and I know I’m a pretty dense student… so it’ll be my treat!” “That’s okay, I find myself looking to the door every time the bells jingle, hoping that it’s you. You know, you made my job here a lot less boring.” Dahyun blushes, and avoids your eyes as she sarcastically asks, “Fine, how about you treat me to dinner then? To thank me for bringing excitement into your life.” You let out a small laugh before saying, “Alright, sure.” “Really? It’s a date!” Dahyun yells loudly, and then proceeded to cover her mouth a little after realizing how obvious she was being.

You raise your eyebrows in surprise as you finally discovered what her true intention was, but secretly you knew that you enjoyed Dahyun’s company as much as she enjoyed spending time with you, even if it was just studying.

“A date, huh? Yeah, I guess it is, isn’t it?”

I am back guys!! So sorry for the long wait, and it actually took me a long time to get back into the swing of things but I am back for good. For now, please don’t send any requests since I still need to work through a lot~

- itsmomorin

[aamilkeeyankhan]

Jim Carrey Commencement Speech

Transcript of Full Commencement Address by Jim Carrey, Maharishi University of Management, May 24th, 2014

Thank you Bevan, thank you all!

I brought one of my paintings to show you today. Hope you guys are gonna be able see it okay. It’s not one of my bigger pieces. You might wanna move down front — to get a good look at it. (kidding)

Faculty, Parents, Friends, Dignitaries… Graduating Class of 2014, and all the dead baseball players coming out of the corn to be with us today. (laughter) After the harvest there’s no place to hide — the fields are empty — there is no cover there! (laughter)

I am here to plant a seed that will inspire you to move forward in life with enthusiastic hearts and a clear sense of wholeness. The question is, will that seed have a chance to take root, or will I be sued by Monsanto and forced to use their seed, which may not be totally “Ayurvedic.” (laughter)

Excuse me if I seem a little low energy tonight — today — whatever this is. I slept with my head to the North last night. (laughter) Oh man! Oh man! You know how that is, right kids? Woke up right in the middle of Pitta and couldn’t get back to sleep till Vata rolled around, but I didn’t freak out. I used that time to eat a large meal and connect with someone special on Tinder. (laughter)

Life doesn’t happen to you, it happens for you. How do I know this? I don’t, but I’m making sound, and that’s the important thing. That’s what I’m here to do. Sometimes, I think that’s one of the only things that are important. Just letting each other know we’re here, reminding each other that we are part of a larger self. I used to think Jim Carrey is all that I was…

Just a flickering light

A dancing shadow

The great nothing masquerading as something you can name

Dwelling in forts and castles made of witches – wishes! Sorry, a Freudian slip there

Seeking shelter in caves and foxholes, dug out hastily

An archer searching for his target in the mirror

Wounded only by my own arrows

Begging to be enslaved

Pleading for my chains

Blinded by longing and tripping over paradise – can I get an “Amen”?! (applause)

You didn’t think I could be serious did ya’? I don’t think you understand who you’re dealing with! I have no limits! I cannot be contained because I’m the container. You can’t contain the container, man! You can’t contain the container! (laughter)

I used to believe that who I was ended at the edge of my skin, that I had been given this little vehicle called a body from which to experience creation, and though I couldn’t have asked for a sportier model, (laughter) it was after all a loaner and would have to be returned. Then, I learned that everything outside the vehicle was a part of me, too, and now I drive a convertible. Top down wind in my hair! (laughter)

I am elated and truly, truly, truly excited to be present and fully connected to you at this important moment in your journey. I hope you’re ready to open the roof and take it all in?! (audience doesn’t react) Okay, four more years then! (laughter)

I want to thank the Trustees, Administrators and Faculty of MUM for creating an institution worthy of Maharishi’s ideals of education. A place that teaches the knowledge and experience necessary to be productive in life, as well as enabling the students, through Transcendental Meditation and ancient Vedic knowledge to slack off twice a day for an hour and a half!! (laughter) — don’t think you’re fooling me!!! — (applause) but, I guess it has some benefits. It does allow you to separate who you truly are and what’s real, from the stories that run through your head.

You have given them the ability to walk behind the mind’s elaborate set decoration, and to see that there is a huge difference between a dog that is going to eat you in your mind and an actual dog that’s going to eat you. (laughter) That may sound like no big deal, but many never learn that distinction and spend a great deal of their lives living in fight or flight response.

I’d like to acknowledge all you wonderful parents — way to go for the fantastic job you’ve done — for your tireless dedication, your love, your support, and most of all, for the attention you’ve paid to your children. I have a saying, “Beware the unloved,” because they will eventually hurt themselves… or me! (laughter)

But when I look at this group here today, I feel really safe! I do! I’m just going to say it — my room is not locked! My room is not locked! (laughter) No doubt some of you will turn out to be crooks! But white-collar stuff — Wall St. ya’ know, that type of thing — crimes committed by people with self-esteem! Stuff a parent can still be proud of in a weird way. (laughter)

And to the graduating class of 2017 — minus 3! You didn’t let me finish! (laughter) — Congratulations! (applause) Yes, give yourselves a round of applause, please. You are the vanguard of knowledge and consciousness; a new wave in a vast ocean of possibilities. On the other side of that door, there is a world starving for new leadership, new ideas.

I’ve been out there for 30 years! She’s a wild cat! (laughter) Oh, she’ll rub up against your leg and purr until you pick her up and start pettin’ her, and out of nowhere she’ll swat you in the face. Sure it’s rough sometimes but that’s OK, ‘cause they’ve got soft serve ice cream with sprinkles! (laughter) I guess that’s what I’m really here to say; sometimes it’s okay to eat your feelings! (laughter)

Fear is going to be a player in your life, but you get to decide how much. You can spend your whole life imagining ghosts, worrying about your pathway to the future, but all there will ever be is what’s happening here, and the decisions we make in this moment, which are based in either love or fear.

So many of us choose our path out of fear disguised as practicality. What we really want seems impossibly out of reach and ridiculous to expect, so we never dare to ask the universe for it. I’m saying, I’m the proof that you can ask the universe for it — please! (applause) And if it doesn’t happen for you right away, it’s only because the universe is so busy fulfilling my order. It’s party size! (laughter)

My father could have been a great comedian, but he didn’t believe that was possible for him, and so he made a conservative choice. Instead, he got a safe job as an accountant, and when I was 12 years old, he was let go from that safe job and our family had to do whatever we could to survive.

I learned many great lessons from my father, not the least of which was that you can fail at what you don’t want, so you might as well take a chance on doing what you love. (applause)

That’s not the only thing he taught me though: I watched the affect my father’s love and humor had on the world around me, and I thought, “That’s something to do, that’s something worth my time.”

It wasn’t long before I started acting up. People would come over to my house and they would be greeted by a 7 yr old throwing himself down a large flight of stairs. (laughter) They would say, “What happened?” And I would say, “I don’t know — let’s check the replay.” And I would go back to the top of the stairs and come back down in slow motion. (Jim reenacts coming down the stairs in slow-mo) It was a very strange household. (laughter)

My father used to brag that I wasn’t a ham — I was the whole pig. And he treated my talent as if it was his second chance. When I was about 28, after a decade as a professional comedian, I realized one night in LA that the purpose of my life had always been to free people from concern, like my dad. When I realized this, I dubbed my new devotion, “The Church of Freedom From Concern” — “The Church of FFC”— and I dedicated myself to that ministry.

What’s yours? How will you serve the world? What do they need that your talent can provide? That’s all you have to figure out. As someone who has done what you are about to go do, I can tell you from experience, the effect you have on others is the most valuable currency there is. (applause)

Everything you gain in life will rot and fall apart, and all that will be left of you is what was in your heart. My choosing to free people from concern got me to the top of a mountain. Look where I am — look what I get to do! Everywhere I go – and I’m going to get emotional because when I tap into this, it really is extraordinary to me — I did something that makes people present their best selves to me wherever I go. (applause) I am at the top of the mountain and the only one I hadn’t freed was myself and that’s when my search for identity deepened.

I wondered who I’d be without my fame. Who would I be if I said things that people didn’t want to hear, or if I defied their expectations of me? What if I showed up to the party without my Mardi Gras mask and I refused to flash my breasts for a handful of beads? (laughter) I’ll give you a moment to wipe that image out of your mind. (laughter)

But you guys are way ahead of the game. You already know who you are and that peace, that peace that we’re after, lies somewhere beyond personality, beyond the perception of others, beyond invention and disguise, even beyond effort itself. You can join the game, fight the wars, play with form all you want, but to find real peace, you have to let the armor fall. Your need for acceptance can make you invisible in this world. Don’t let anything stand in the way of the light that shines through this form. Risk being seen in all of your glory. (A sheet drops and reveals Jim’s painting. Applause.)

(Re: the painting) It’s not big enough! (kidding) This painting is big for a reason. This painting is called “High Visibility.” (laughter) It’s about picking up the light and daring to be seen. Here’s the tricky part. Everyone is attracted to the light. The party host up in the corner (refers to painting) who thinks unconsciousness is bliss and is always offering a drink from the bottles that empty you; Misery, below her, who despises the light — can’t stand when you’re doing well — and wishes you nothing but the worst; The Queen of Diamonds who needs a King to build her house of cards; And the Hollow One, who clings to your leg and begs, “Please don’t leave me behind for I have abandoned myself.”

Even those who are closest to you and most in love with you; the people you love most in the world can find clarity confronting at times. This painting took me thousands of hours to complete and — (applause) thank you — yes, thousands of hours that I’ll never get back, I’ll never get them back (kidding) — I worked on this for so long, for weeks and weeks, like a mad man alone on a scaffolding — and when I was finished one of my friends said, “This would be a cool black light painting.” (laughter)

So I started over. (All the lights go off in the Dome and the painting is showered with black light.) Whooooo! Welcome to Burning Man! (applause) Some pretty crazy characters right? Better up there than in here. (points to head) Painting is one of the ways I free myself from concern, a way to stop the world through total mental, spiritual and physical involvement.

But even with that, comes a feeling of divine dissatisfaction. Because ultimately, we’re not the avatars we create. We’re not the pictures on the film stock. We are the light that shines through it. All else is just smoke and mirrors. Distracting, but not truly compelling.

I’ve often said that I wished people could realize all their dreams of wealth and fame so they could see that it’s not where you’ll find your sense of completion. Like many of you, I was concerned about going out in the world and doing something bigger than myself, until someone smarter than myself made me realize that there is nothing bigger than myself! (laughter)

My soul is not contained within the limits of my body. My body is contained within the limitlessness of my soul — one unified field of nothing dancing for no particular reason, except maybe to comfort and entertain itself. (applause) As that shift happens in you, you won’t be feeling the world you’ll be felt by it — you will be embraced by it. Now, I’m always at the beginning. I have a reset button called presence and I ride that button constantly.

Once that button is functional in your life, there’s no story the mind could create that will be as compelling. The imagination is always manufacturing scenarios — both good and bad — and the ego tries to keep you trapped in the multiplex of the mind. Our eyes are not only viewers, but also projectors that are running a second story over the picture we see in front of us all the time. Fear is writing that script and the working title is, ‘I’ll never be enough.’

You look at a person like me and say, (kidding) “How could we ever hope to reach those kinds of heights, Jim? How can I make a painting that’s too big for any reasonable home? How do you fly so high without a special breathing apparatus?” (laughter)

This is the voice of your ego. If you listen to it, there will always be someone who seems to be doing better than you. No matter what you gain, ego will not let you rest. It will tell you that you cannot stop until you’ve left an indelible mark on the earth, until you’ve achieved immortality. How tricky is the ego that it would tempt us with the promise of something we already possess.

So I just want you to relax—that’s my job—relax and dream up a good life! (applause) I had a substitute teacher from Ireland in the second grade that told my class during Morning Prayer that when she wants something, anything at all, she prays for it, and promises something in return and she always gets it. I’m sitting at the back of the classroom, thinking that my family can’t afford a bike, so I went home and I prayed for one, and promised I would recite the rosary every night in exchange. Broke it—broke that promise. (laughter)

Two weeks later, I got home from school to find a brand new mustang bike with a banana seat and easy rider handlebars — from fool to cool! My family informed me that I had won the bike in a raffle that a friend of mine had entered my name in, without my knowledge. That type of thing has been happening ever since, and as far as I can tell, it’s just about letting the universe know what you want and working toward it while letting go of how it might come to pass. (applause)

Your job is not to figure out how it’s going to happen for you, but to open the door in your head and when the doors open in real life, just walk through it. Don’t worry if you miss your cue. There will always be another door opening. They keep opening.

And when I say, “life doesn’t happen to you, it happens for you.” I really don’t know if that’s true. I’m just making a conscious choice to perceive challenges as something beneficial so that I can deal with them in the most productive way. You’ll come up with your own style, that’s part of the fun!

Oh, and why not take a chance on faith as well? Take a chance on faith — not religion, but faith. Not hope, but faith. I don’t believe in hope. Hope is a beggar. Hope walks through the fire. Faith leaps over it.

You are ready and able to do beautiful things in this world and after you walk through those doors today, you will only ever have two choices: love or fear. Choose love, and don’t ever let fear turn you against your playful heart.

Thank you. Jai Guru Dev. I’m so honored. Thank you.

[kiddo-oscar]

Understanding Grief

As i just finished reading A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis, i do want to share a story about grief from my own experience. Though i have watched, and read hundreds of sad story that ended with one character has to died; i have never experience grief myself. Not until at the beginning of this year, on January 21, 2018; that Sunday morning at 9 a.m. Boston Time when i received a phone call from my parents saying that my grandmother has just passed away. 

Few days before i already knew that she was indeed in a critical situation where they were only a slight chance that she will recover. As a grand daughter, who is is Boston and not even on her side while she was on her deathbed, gave me huge agony and sorrow. Knowing that if bad things happened you won’t be there to send her off to her resting place. As i remembered how we have spent so much time together, and how she always there for me, i just don’t want to lose her. I prayed and prayed for miracle to happen and she will be just fine, just like when i left her last September. 

C.S. Lewis portrayal of grief is something that i can totally related to. The way he can’t seems to function well without his wife, his sorrow, his confusion, and his thought about questioning God and His decisions. But i think he is luckier than me, as he was there by her side on her last days. 

Few days before she left, we supposed to have a phone call together, but i did not pick up the call due to my schedules at school. Have i know that it will be the last time that we might talk, i’ll choose her over my school for sure. But what is done is done and nothing i can do about it, right?

Right after getting the news, i should say life seems blurry for a period of time. I still do my routine, but my mind seems to wander somewhere else. As if my mind still cannot comprehend that she is no longer in the same earth as i am, breathing the same air and looking at the same sky. We can no longer telling each other secrets and asking for what to cook for lunch. Though i try to pretend to be okay, for the sake of convenience (i really don’t want people to ask me if i was okay, although i’m pretty sure that they have seen my swollen eyes those few days), i know i don’t. Every night for the first few weeks i fall asleep while crying and waking up just to find my pillow is soaked with tears and another day has gone by. 

My biggest fears of losing someone is to be the only person who bears the memories, to be the only one who knows our little secrets. What if as the time goes by i started to forget how she look? or her sound? little details that i used to know will started to fade away in exchange? Or perhaps i started to mixed up reality and imagination of her that i have in my mind? 

When people say “Time will heal all wound” i always believe that it will, but in the case of separation through death, can it heal? Because nothing can change the fact that she is no longer here and whatever i do will not change anything. Time cannot bring her back and all we have are the past memories that we treasure inside the little mind of mine. 

I remembered i prayed so hard, so sincere more than i’ve ever did before. I prayed for healing, and miracle that perhaps the good God will listen and heal her completely. So my reaction when it did not go the way i asked Him, i blamed Him, hated Him, i blatantly said,” You’re not as good as You said You are and I hate You. You took her away from me, when i told You not to.” Then i stopped praying at all. 

Few days later, i encounter a sort of thought. In my prayers i have always said,”Thy will be done” that may His way be done in my life. But when things happened not in my favor, i often get mad and blame Him for everything, just like this time. I do ask for her healing, but what if it’s not the best for her? what if there is perhaps greater things that He wanted her to do? what if she indeed has finished her job on Earth and it’s time to reconcile with Him?

My parents once told me,”She is in a better place now”. Sometimes i wonder if it’s true, but i really hope it is. All i can do now is to embrace all the memories that we have together and that’s what i am still learning to do. To let her go, but hold on to the memories. 

I still remember how proud she was during my graduation photoshoot with her last year, her smile, and the way she told me i did a good job. And this time, she won’t be there to see me waving my master’s degree diploma, but i will dedicated my achievement for her this time. This is for you, nai. Wherever you are, I hope you’re proud of what I have done. I love you and I miss you so much.

With love,

Your grand daughter. 

[malcolmteller-blog]

[HORROR] The Best Laid Plans of Machines

Alyssa and I loved each other deeply. No, not that way. We were only just friends. But we were close enough that we were basically brother and sister.

Where did we begin? Well, I’d known her for as long as I could remember. I vaguely remember being six and thinking that because we were so close, we were gonna get married one day. Typical kid logic, right. But as we grew, we become even closer, and as we went through elementary school, then middle school, then high school, and then university, it was always Alyssa and Jeff. Jeff and Alyssa. Always.

I remember coaching her on how to ask out her crush when we were thirteen, or the time we ended up running across a bunch of backyards in the middle of the night after our very first party got crashed by the cops at sixteen. Or how I was there for her when she gave up her baby for adoption when we were nineteen, because the father was a deadbeat who refused to acknowledge that it was his and she didn’t think she could raise a child alone. That was rough on her, real rough, but I helped see her through it. Something she said to me then stands out to me even now. “Jeff,” she said as we both sat on her bed, her wiping the tears away from her red and puffy eyes, “we really lucked out finding each other, didn’t we?”

We did. We really did.

But I try not to think about her, to be honest. I try not to because it hurts too much.

I have to go back to when everything started to unravel. It all started when we were just out of university. I was twenty-four, and so was Alyssa. I was working as an office drone in downtown Vancouver - basic data entry bullshit. She, on the other hand, was a budding journalist. She’d been published in various papers and magazines, but she hadn’t found sustainable, full-time work. Yet. She would eventually. I knew she would. She was just that good. It was inevitable that someone would notice her skill.

It was just that skill which got us into the whole mess to begin with.

It was one warm, sunny July day about seven years ago. I had just gotten out of work and was on my way to a dinner date with Alyssa. She really wanted to meet with me, there was something she was mega excited about.

As I walked there, I was wondering about stuff. Mainly my future, and the nature of my friendship with Alyssa. I mean, having graduated with a degree in History, and with barely any work experience at all, I didn’t have many career prospects. Hence my working as an office drone, and wondering where I’d be ten years down the road. But I did have one hope - but it was a long shot: writing. See, I loved writing fiction, and I did think I was pretty good at it. But I knew fully that it took a hell of a lot of luck, hard work and knowing the right people to make it in that industry. Still, I was willing to try.

And then there was Alyssa. I was starting to feel more warm toward her, but I didn’t know what that meant. Was I falling in love with her? Did I want to be in love with her, even if that shift was happening inside of me? She was my closest friend, and that relationship had served us well our entire lives. Would stepping forward into romance risk throwing all that away? Thinking about all this… yeah, total mess.

Anyways, I finally got to the diner. I stepped inside, peering around. I’d never been there before, but it was one of Alyssa’s favorites. It looked kind of run-down, but in a cozy kind of way. The wallpaper was peeling, there were scuff and scrape marks all over the floor, and a couple lightbulbs kept flickering, but somehow, this felt like the kind of place you could have a deep, intense conversation in.

Scanning the inside of the place with my eyes, I spotted Alyssa sitting at a table, intensely focused on an open file full of papers in front of her. Idly looking up, she spotted me and her eyes lit up in excitement as she waved me over.

As I settled into the diner booth across from her, I was curious about why she’d called me here. She sounded excited as hell when she talked to me on the phone as I was getting off work. I figured it had to do with something she was investigating. She always shared her big scoops with me whenever she found them, so I figured that had to be it. As it happened, I was right.

“Jeff!” she exclaimed, her voice bubbly and energetic. “You won’t believe the lead I’m on!” From the way her voice sounded, and the look of her eyes, I could tell this was serious business.

“Alright,” I asked slowly, “what is it?”

A wide grin appeared on her face. “First,” she said, holding up a finger, “you know all about the people going missing lately, yeah?”

I should explain. Back then, there was a rash of folks going missing. Some here, some there, from various parts of life. Not really enough to form a pattern - at least outside of the minds of dedicated folks like Alyssa - and not really enough to set off a citywide police operation, but enough. I’d mainly heard about it from Alyssa, oddly enough.

“Yes, Alyssa,” I said, cracking a smile, “I do remember you telling me all about it for the past month.”

Nodding excitedly, she continued. “Good. So, long story short, I have a lead on who could be behind it all.”

My eyes went wide. If she was actually onto something legitimate here, this could break the whole matter wide open. It’d be big. Not even making-her-career big, but big as in taking-down-a-serial-killer-the-police-didn’t-even-know-about big. Now I was interested.

“Alright, tell me more,” I said, leaning in.

Pushing her papers toward me, she started going through them. “Alright, so basically, people are going missing, right? Well, I’ve been tracking who’s gone missing and what their usual routines and travel patterns in the city are. That information, combined with the network of homeless informants I have-”

“Wait, you have a network of homeless informants?” I asked, cutting her off, my eyebrows raised in an expression of surprise.

She looked surprised. “Yeah, totally. You help them, they’re willing to help you. Works well for both of us.”

I shrugged, and motioned for her to continue.

“Anyways, yeah, network of homeless informants. They’ve been giving me information on when they’ve actually seen the people get grabbed.”

“Wait,” I cut in, “they actually witnessed the abductions? Alyssa, you and them have to go to the cops with this.”

Leaning in, she spoke urgently. “We did! Only the police wouldn’t believe a word we said. Look, just let me finish, okay?”

I nodded, and she continued. “It’s what they actually saw when they saw the people get grabbed. Now, let me tell you, I didn’t believe it at first. But… every person in my network who saw something - and these are people from across the city, who don’t even know the other people who witnessed stuff - says the same thing.”

She paused, took a deep breath, and finally dropped the bombshell she was holding back.

“They saw these people hanging around darkened spaces - like, alleyways, or building alcoves, stuff like that. Always at night. And then… then they saw these… little, machines. Mechanical creatures. ‘Machine elves’, one of my informants called them. Little, mechanical dwarf figures with these sharp, pointed ears.”

My eyes must have shown that this sounded crazy as hell, because she started to speak more quickly, trying to hold my attention. “They saw them basically swarm the people in question, render them unconscious somehow, and then drag them away.”

I leaned back, and tried to figure out how to break it to her. This wasn’t real. She was being bullshitted. Or maybe not, maybe the people telling her this actually did believe they saw that, but come on - it couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be.

“Alyssa,” I said carefully. “Look. This can’t be real, I mean-”

She cut me off. “Jeff, listen. This… I know. I know it sounds crazy. But it’s worth some digging, don’t you think?”

I was stuck. Slowly shrugging, and figuring it’d be a way to get her off this track, I went, “Yeah, but-”

“Great!” She shot out brightly, cutting me off again. “Then you’ll come with me to their hideout tonight.”

My eyes shot open wide. What the fuck? First off, she wanted me to come follow her on this wild goose chase? Secondly, she found their fucking hideout?

“This is… wow, this is…” I started to stutter out. She took my confusion as an opportunity, and said, “Great! It’s agreed then. Come on, I’ll lead the way.” And with that, she had taken her papers, put them into her messenger bag and was up and heading out the door.

I was left sitting there, really wanting to tell her, no, we weren’t going to go there together, this is crazy, and I’m going home. I wanted to do that. What actually happened was me muttering angrily under my breath as I got up and followed her out the door and then proceeded to follow her to wherever it was that she was leading me.

It took us an hour to get there. First we transited near the place, then we walked the rest of the way. She ended up leading me to an abandoned warehouse deep in the city. She led me to a back door, and I was just wishing I’d been strong enough to stand up for myself and go home. But I couldn’t. I felt loyal to her, like I had to see this through with her.

Trying the door, she found - to my surprise - that it was unlocked. She pushed it open and, flashlight pulled out and switched on, stepped inside, with me following her. What we saw there will haunt me forever.

It was… Christ, it was a horror show. Blood streaks all over the walls and floors. Not only that, but… dismembered body parts. Arms, legs, hands, feet, chunks of flesh and gore. Just littered all over the floor. The place stunk with the smell of blood and rotting flesh. I brought my hand up to my face, trying to stop myself from vomiting at the horror of it all. I glanced over at Alyssa, and her reaction was the same.

This was it. This was where I’m gonna make my stand, I thought to myself. “Alyssa,” I whispered urgently, “we should go. We should really, really go, and let the police handle this.”

Her response surprised me. “No, we need to go deeper, really get evidence that these machine elves exist.” Her tone was firm and resolute. Before I could argue, she headed off deeper into the warehouse. I… well, what do you think I did? I followed.

As we ventured deeper into the warehouse, I noticed that the air kept getting warmer and warmer as we went further in. There was also an odd glow, coming from deep in the warehouse. We also heard the sound of metallic movement and scraping, which got louder and louder the deeper in we got. Finally, we approached a slightly ajar door, which had a bright light shining behind it, the air thick with the heat radiating from the room ahead. My heart pounding and my blood pumping, and terror and tension rushing through me, Alyssa and I peered through the crack in the door. What we saw still makes my blood run cold.

It was a wide, open space, with the floor covered in fresh blood. The lights were on, casting a dull glow over all that was happening. Littered across the floor were fresh corpses, in various states of dismemberment. Limbs, and even organs, replaced with mechanical parts that crudely resembled what had been removed. That wasn’t what made my heart freeze, though. What made that happen were the mechanical beings operating on the bodies. They were made up of various plates and sheets of metal, sharp corners and edges all over their metallic bodies. They were the size of dwarves - think Santa’s elves - and their ears were sharp and pointed. How the hell could they be moving? How the hell could they be alive? They weren’t robots, because every now and then we got a glimpse of their insides through the gaps between the metal - there were none. No interior materials. They were literally just a bunch of metal stuck together, and yet… they were alive? This didn’t make any damned sense.

The blood covering the floor reeked to high heaven. I don’t know if I can properly convey the horror of all this. All these bodies, just laying there, cut wide open in pools of their own blood. The mechanical elves drilling crude metal arms into the shoulders of the corpses, where the arms had been amputated. Gently putting a crude metal fashioning of a heart into the chest cavity where a real heart had just been. All the bodies, these things just cutting and slicing arms off and cutting out hearts and stomachs and then putting in crude mechanical limbs and organs, it just… fucking Christ, it was insane.

I glanced over at Alyssa as we witnessed this. Her eyes were shot wide with terror and fascination, and her mouth had dropped open completely. As we watched, I noticed her finally fumble to get her phone out, to snap photos of these things. But… as she fumbled, the phone fell out of her hand. With us desperately grasping for it, it hit the ground with a loud clatter. Inside the room, the machine beings stopped everything they were doing and quickly swerved their heads in our direction. Alyssa and I froze. For a couple brief moments, the two of us and all of them were frozen, staring directly at each other. Then a bunch of the mechanical elves - I don’t know what else to call them - started to race toward us. Fight or flight kicked in, and Alyssa and I took off running.

We raced through the warehouse, desperately trying to make it outside. We could hear - practically feel - the elves behind us in hot pursuit. Every time I gave a quick glance behind us, they were closer. Just the noise they were making - clank clank clank - getting closer and closer, our fear shooting higher and higher the nearer they drew to us. Finally, before we knew it, we burst out into the cool, night air and took off running toward the closest skytrain station. We ran and ran and ran, and didn’t stop until we had been running outside for a good ten minutes.

Slowing to a stop outside a closed storefront and leaning against the window, panting hard in a desperate attempt to catch our breaths, we glanced at each other. Alyssa’s eyes were filled with terror. We both knew that she never expected this. I thought that maybe she never even expected her hunch to actually pan out. Maybe to her it was just a kind of game, like playing investigative reporter, only now it was all too horrifyingly real.

Long story short, we made it to a skytrain station and headed straight to the nearest open police station. We told everything to the interviewing officer. Of course, she didn’t believe a word she said, but we managed to prevail on her to send a couple officers to investigate.

We never expected what happened next. We were sitting in the office, trying to calm our nerves, which were still rattled, and then the officer who had interviewed us earlier burst in. She looked pissed.

“What the hell kind of game do you two think you’re playing?” she asked in an accusatory fashion, an angry edge to her voice. We just looked at her, then at ourselves, then at her, unsure of what to say. In our silence, she continued.

“We searched the entire building. Not a sign of anything out of order. No blood stains, no body parts, and sure as fuck no goddamned mechanical elves!” She yelled the last part. In the end, she ended up telling us that against her better judgment, she wasn’t going to charge us for wasting police time but that if she ever saw either of us again in cases where we weren’t reporting actual, real life crimes, we’d regret it. Then she kicked us out of the building.

Alyssa and I numbly parted ways and headed to our respective homes. Neither of us really knew what to think. What the hell was that back there? What the hell happened?

But, what else to do? I got home and went to bed, but not before calling Alyssa to make sure she made it home alright. We didn’t talk much on the phone - just checking in with each other. Sleep came fast that night.

I got up in the morning, went to work, and tried to forget what had happened. I mean, you may think that’s crazy - how could I just go back to living my life, seeing what I’d seen? But witnessing something like that… it does something to you. You don’t try to attack it head on, or even solve it, really. You just try to go back to life and forget it exists.

It wasn’t like that with Alyssa, though. She wouldn’t let herself forget it all.

On my way home from work, I got a call on my cell phone. It was her. I picked it up.

“Alyssa?” I asked.

“Hey, Jeff?” She asked back. Her voice was small, hesitant. I could tell she was still impacted by what had happened last night. After a moment of silence from both of us, she continued.

“Jeff, we have to get to the bottom of what happened.”

I blew up at this. I still don’t know why. I guess everything that had happened, all the stress and fear it built up in me, just burst forth. “No, no fucking way!” I yelled into the phone. Alyssa didn’t respond, so I continued. “You drag me out there, when I didn’t even wanna fucking go, and then we see all this horrible stuff. And we just barely get away, and now you want to go and kick the nest again? No, count me out. Count me the fuck out.”

She was silent for a long time. Then she spoke very quietly.

“Okay. Alright. I’ll figure it out myself. Goodbye, Jeff.” Then she hung up.

I didn’t hear from her for a long time after that. I didn’t see her, either. As it stood, I didn’t care. Something about what we saw there, what nearly happened to us, it… I’m just gonna be honest. It scared me. It scared the living shit out of me, and I wanted nothing more than to put it behind me, pretend it didn’t exist, and pray those things didn’t find me. If doing that cost me my friendship with Alyssa, so be it.

So, I went to work, and I finally decided to pursue my dream of writing. I started to send stories off to magazines and anthologies. About a month later, I’d received word that one had been accepted into a major genre fiction magazine. That was about a day before Alyssa re-established contact with me.

I was at home on my day off, watching a movie I’d gotten from the library late in the evening. I was really relaxed, calm, and happy. It hadn’t occurred to me at the time, but not only had I put what I witnessed behind me, I had put Alyssa behind me as well. So I encountered mix feelings, to put it mildly, when I noticed her name on my ringing smartphone.

Slowly - hesitantly - I answered the phone and put it to my ear. I heard Alyssa’s hesitant, careful voice speak from the other end.

“Jeff?”

“Hey, Alyssa,” I said politely, trying to keep things level. I didn’t know how to really conduct things, not after what had happened, and not after we’d been out of contact for so long.

“Jeff… look. I… I need to say something.”

“Okay,” I said simply, waiting for her to continue.

“I’m sorry for everything that happened. I shouldn’t have dragged you into it, and I know you were really in over your head - I mean, Jesus, so was I - and I’m sorry for that.” She paused. Then she continued. “But I need to see this through. I’ve tracked these mechanical things back to their hideout. I’m ending this, tonight. You can come with me if you want. I hope you do. But one way or another, this ends.”

I started to protest, but she cut me off. “I’ll text you the address. Bye.”

I sat there, stunned. So this was it, huh. As I thought on this, my phone dinged, and I glanced at it. There it was, the address of the building.

But something odd happened. I found myself actually debating on whether or not I should go. After how I was nearly murdered by those things, I was actually considering going up against them again. It was crazy, insane! But I couldn’t leave Alyssa to go up against them alone. I mean, for god’s sake, she was my friend. My best friend. I went back and forth on it for the next half hour, but in the end, there was no real choice.

I tried to get there on transit. Unfortunately, a medical emergency at one of the stations delayed the train for about forty minutes. It would turn out to be a fateful turn of events.

I made it there close to midnight. It was a different warehouse, on the other end of the city, but as I approached I could vaguely hear the mechanical movements inside. I ventured inside, the heat and raw stench of blood hitting me. As I ventured deeper into the warehouse, close to the door of the room where these things were based I noticed what Alyssa had brought - homemade explosives. Big ones, and lots of them, too. Enough to take down this entire building. But if the explosives were here… where was she?

My heart racing, I gently and carefully opened the door to the room where the mechanical elves were located and peeked inside. What I saw… it shattered me.

All the bodies being operated on, but not just that. I saw Alyssa - dead, laying on the floor, her stomach cut wide open as the mechanical elves carefully removed her heart, stomach and lungs. Setting her organs down on the floor, they gently put crude mechanical facsimiles of her organs where her actual organs had been. She was just… she was just fucking lying there, her eyes all glassy and lifeless. Everything she’d ever been, everything I knew her to be, fucking gone. Because of these little fucking bastards.

I was numb when I gently closed the door. I was numb when I walked over to the explosives and set the timer. I was numb as I took off running out of the warehouse and down the street, and I was numb when the warehouse went up in a massive ball of flame after I was two blocks away.

The police ended up investigating me for the warehouse explosion and Alyssa’s disappearance, but in the end they couldn’t dig up any clear evidence, so I was left alone. In the end, I moved to Toronto. I couldn’t stay in Vancouver. Too many memories.

I did end up pursuing my dream. As of now, I have two novels out, with a third on the way. One of ‘em’s won a number of awards. But even now, with my life so radically different and changed, I’ve never forgotten - and I will never forget - Alyssa. Most of all, I will never - ever - forget those… those mechanical things. Even now, I still dream of them.