#night and weekend nursing programs
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dolivia · 10 months ago
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Here are 4 Phases (Stages) of Nurse-Patient Relationship
Discover the 4 phases of the nurse-patient relationship on our website. Gain insights into the stages that shape this crucial bond. Explore now
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bisexualalienss · 2 years ago
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i have a phone interview for like. my dream job on Wednesday but i’m horrible at phone interviews. help
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elixirfromthestars · 2 months ago
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key: angst ☽ | fluff ☼ | 18+ ♡ | 500+ notes ✧ | 1,000+ notes ୨୧
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─ ⊹ ⊱ Series ⊰ ⊹ ─
The Biker's Tulip ☼ ୨୧
biker!bucky x florist!reader
A small town. A biker and a florist, each one carrying the burdens of their past, and yet despite that, finding solace in one another along the way...
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─ ⊹ ⊱ Two Parts ⊰ ⊹ ─
Conflict of Interest ☼ ☽ ✧
detective!bucky x lawyer!reader
After the many failed dates Natasha set you up on, you decide to give up on the dating scene all together. That is until Bucky makes it his mission to change your mind, but will he be enough to change it?
Part II ☼ ☽
After deserting Bucky at the fair, you are left dealing with the consequences. This becomes difficult as you are all assigned to a new case. 
A Night Of Frights and Delights ☼ ୨୧
athlete!bucky x artist!reader - college au
It's Friday the 13th and the college kids in town decided to host a weekend camping trip on the outskirts of town. Your best friend convinced you to go much to your reluctance. What could go wrong when the one guy you can't stand is also there?
Part II ♡ ☼ ✧
You and Bucky have danced around the lines you've placed ever since that weekend camping trip. Months later, when Tony Stark hosts an extravagant party, he finally makes a move to cross them.
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─ ⊹ ⊱ Oneshots ⊰ ⊹ ─
One Call Away ☼
agent!bucky x journalist!reader
You’re a journalist in the late 1950s working for a gossip magazine. You write an article about the actor Steve Rogers, and his agent Bucky Barnes is not happy about it. He confronts you and offers you a deal.
In Five Years ☽
bucky x enhanced!reader
Bucky was having a hard time expressing his feelings about finally being free from the Winter Soldier program. To help him out, you suggested writing a letter to his future self and burying it in a time capsule to visit this moment again in the future. The plan was to open the time capsule five years from now. That was until Thanos showed up.
My Dearest ☼ ✧ ☽
duke!bucky x lady!reader
On the night of Lady Maximoff’s ball you find yourself in the gardens, troubled by your emotions. As if by fate, the rain pours down reuniting you with the one who is the very object of your troubles.
Written in the Stars ☼
bucky x avenger!reader - established relationship
Your boyfriend, Bucky, takes you on a date full of surprises under the stars.
Boulevard Confessions ☼ ୨୧
40s!bucky x nurse!reader
Being a third wheel to Peggy and Steve wasn't your ideal Thursday night fun. However, when they tell you Bucky is tagging along you eagerly decide to join them. That is until a third party makes its presence known.
Sink Your Teeth In Me ♡☼୨୧
bucky x neighbor!reader
You and Bucky are supposed to attend Sam's party on Halloween. However, when you show up to his place looking like temptation itself—he gets other ideas on how to spend the night with you.
Crossroads ☽
bucky x neurosurgeon!reader
On a rainy night on your way home, fate decides to cross your path with someone who used to hold the dearest place in your heart.
Dancing Embers ☼
40s!bucky x nurse!reader
A cozy cabin, the love of your life, and the warmth of a fire. What more could you ask for on a cold winter night?
By The Warmth Of The Oven ☼ ୨୧
bucky x avenger!reader
You are baking cookies for the Avengers holiday party when a certain super solider comes into the kitchen tipsy for the first time...
In His Embrace ☼
agent!bucky x journalist!reader
As a new day begins and the snow cascades beyond your windows, you know there's no place you'd rather be than in his arms.
A Snow Day With You ☼
athlete!bucky x artist!reader - college au
The end of the semester has you stressing beyond belief, so Bucky decides to cheer you up by spending a snowy afternoon sledding.
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─ ⊹ ⊱ Drabbles ⊰ ⊹ ─
Together ☼ ✧
bucky x wife!reader
It’s been a month since you had a baby with your husband, Bucky. On the first day he went back to work, however, you can’t get her to stop crying—that is until Bucky comes home.
Fieldwork ☼ ☽
detective!bucky x lawyer!reader
You end up getting hurt while out in the field questioning a suspect. Thankfully, Detective Barnes is there to help. 
Lucky Day ☼
bucky x reader - college au
Bucky, your childhood best friend, takes you to a baseball game to thank you for helping him with his chemistry class. However, between bets and kiss cams, luck seems to be the real game being played.
Tranquility ☼
bucky x avenger!reader - established relationship
On your day off from saving the world, you decide to have a date in the park with your boyfriend Bucky.
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⌞‼⌝ I do not give consent to have my work posted, translated, or published to any third party site or app. 
⌞‼⌝ All images/gifs used are not mine, and come from google unless specifically stated otherwise.​
⌞‼⌝ Heart divider by @/enchanthings
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keyaho · 3 months ago
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summary: kyra returns to her hometown after ten years away. she ends up braiding the hair of the one man that had and still has her heart.
authors note: he was supposed to be breaking her in half like a glow stick. idk what happened. he's all soft and shit. sometimes I write and the characters will lead the way. terry was not with me bending kyra over so he could fuck......
wordcount: 2600
warnings: none
Kyra was home this time for good. Fontaine Street was lit up as her father hosted a block party in her honor. She had just finished her nursing program and was currently a registered nurse at the main hospital. It gave her a forty-five minute commute twice a day, but the pay was worth it. Plus, her father had given her his house as a gift, having moved to another closer to his ailing mother three months ago. Markus Fields was known around the block back in the day, having run the entire Fontaine block with his crew. Remnants of that still lingered with up and coming young men wanting to emulate him. 
She slipped in and out of the crowd, hugging older men and women who had watched her grow up over the years. Some neighborhood friends commended her on making it out the hood. She brushed them off, telling them she just wanted to be a nurse. Boasting around here led to rumors and the last thing she wanted was her hometown to think she had outgrown them in a way she thought she was better than them. 
Kyra moved towards her front porch, a few people lingered there, but she slipped into the house unnoticed just to get a break from socializing. The party was going to drag on for a few more house and if it wasn’t the weekend, she’d be sneaking to a hotel to get sleep. 
“Are you running from him,’ Markus sat at the kitchen table, eating a plate of ribs and baked beans. 
“Dad,’ Kyra sighed. “I haven’t even seen him. I just came in to get a break.” 
“Well, he’s been asking about you. He came in a few months ago. Retired from the Marines, some shit went down in some place called Rebel Ridge with his cousin,’ he rambled an Kyra grew concerned. “He passed. Terry showed up here a mess.” Markus sighs. 
“Oh,’ she replies, unsure of what to say.
“He asked if you still braid hair.” 
Kyra looked to her father and slowly folded her arms over her chest. “Dad…’ 
“He’ll be by here tomorrow morning.” 
“I don’t have anything to do his hair with,’ she admitted, slapping her thighs after throwing her hands up. 
“You hair box is still in the bathroom. Combs and shit still down there.” 
“Dad,’
“Braid his hair and talk to him. He needs it.” Markus watched his daughter grab a drink from the fridge. As she left he thought, he needs you. A man in love was easy to spot and Terry long had been in love with his daughter. 
Back outside, she popped the tab on her Coke and walked towards the end of the street where the ice cream truck had parked. She needed something cold to ice out her nerves. Terry had been her first. Everything. They had fumbled one night in bed and though the sex was awkward and rushed, neither knew what they were doing, the intimacy with him could never be matched. Leaving for school had been the hardest decision of her life. She’s glad he found himself a way out too. 
Kyra saw him before he saw her. Standing next to the spades table, red solo cup held between his full lips as he pulled up his slightly large black sweats. MARINE was embellished on his shirt, the material old and faded. His hair had grown out and it framed his face in a way that Narcissus himself would fall in love. The afro was very different than the low cut cesar he had when they were kids. When she last saw him it was fresh and he came right to her house to show off. She remembered her father swatting him off the porch because she couldn’t come out once the street lights were on. From the porch she had waved, laughed and secretly pointed to her bedroom window. 
Now he was a grown man. She was a grown woman and the butterflies were still there. 
Stepping up to the truck she eyed the vintage flavors not found in commercial stores anymore. The buttercup shaped popsicle called her name and she reached into her back pocket when a hand reached over her shoulder, two ones and the two quarters held against his palm by his ring and pinky finger. 
“Aye Terry!” The seller greeted. “What you doing back here bruh? Heard you was out with them Marines and shit.” 
Maybe it was another Terry. She didn’t turn around and when the popsicle was passed to her. She ripped off the paper. 
“I got out,’ his rich baritone filled her ears. “Did my ten years.” 
That’s how long it had been since they last seen each other? 
“It’s good seein’ yall two.” He said, eyeing the way Terry stood behind Kyra. 
The whole block knew how they felt about each other. 
“Are you going to turn around?” He asked, still standing close to her. 
He moved them from the line and towards the sidewalk, people giving them way with knowing looks on their faces. She ignored them. They stood on the side of someone’s house, her back to the old wood. The ice cream tucked between her lips as she sucked on the smooth creamy treat. 
“Hey,’ she replied, unsure of what to say to him. 
“How you been, Ky?” 
“Good, um,’ 
He placed his hands beneath her chin, forcing her to look up at him. There was no hesitation in his next move. His hands slid up her cheeks to the curls at the nape of her neck. His lips were soft and he kissed her slow, tasting the ice cream, her strawberry lip gloss, and her. She dropped the ice cream and grabbed his waist. He took the initiate and stepped forward and pushed her up against the house. 
“Two deployments and I would do another one if it mean coming back home to kiss you.” 
He held her face in his hands, thumbs brushing her warm cheeks. He always said the most loving and romantic shit. Her knees weakened just a little and he smiled as she looked away from him. 
“Are you still shy?” He asked. “Can’t be if you’re coming out the house in those shorts.” 
The denim shorts were high waisted with ripped holes along the thighs and one in a particular place on her ass, showing just a sliver of cheek. 
“You put them on for me,’ he says, his lips dangerously close to hers. This was not the Terry she had grown up with. This was grown Terry.
“Fuck,’ she says, pushing him back to get some space to breath. 
He caught her hands and brought them to his lips. He wore a big smile, all 32 teeth exposed as his green eyes looked her over. He stepped back up to her and hooked his finger into the belt hook of her shorts. 
“I’ll be over in the morning to see you.” 
“Your hair.” She says, remembering what her Dad had told her. “I’m braiding your hair. $250.” 
Terry laughed, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. “Nah, how about head for head?” 
“Terry!” Kyra hissed. That was the Terry she remembered, shit talking. Only this time, she knew he could back it up.
He placed his hand on her stomach and pushed her back against the house. 
“You’ve been the source of all my dreams, my nightmares, Kyra.” He sighed. “All I’ve thought about was you for ten years. Hoping that when I saw you again there wasn’t a ring on your finger.” 
It was getting too heavy. His confession of his feelings were too much. She might have shared them, wondered where had been and doing, but hearing them aloud sent her mind into a free fall. 
“Tell me I’m not too late, Ky Ky.” 
Before she could respond he kissed her forehead. The sky had darkened and the music was louder, people yelling and enjoying themselves in the background. 
“You’re never too late,’ she admitted. 
Terry’s shoulders slumped and the tension between them snapped. 
“Kyra?” 
The pair looked up and Terry took a step away from Kyra.
“Yeah,’ she says, addressing one of her friends from college that had stopped by. 
“Your dad is looking for you.” Her eyes drifted to Terry and she made the connection. Kyra had talked about Terry plenty of times over bottles of wine and ice cream while they were in college. “I’ll tell him your busy,’ 
Kyra shook her head. “No no, I’m coming.” 
Her friend nodded, a knowing smile on her face. “Okay.” 
When they were alone again, Terry pulled her in for another kiss. He held her head back and she rose on her toes to meet his retreating lips. 
“We can finish this tomorrow.”
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Up at seven thirty, Kyra grabbed her hair supplies from the bathroom. She sifted through the box for her rattail comb and rubber bands. True to form, she had some blue magic grease and pink lotion. She kept up with braiding and didn’t need all that edge control and gel. Just the basics. Her side hustle on campus kept her afloat. She walked into the kitchen where a pot of coffee was brewing. She had ingredients for breakfast, but knew she didn’t have time to cook and eat before he came over. Terry was punctual and she had a hunch he was going to be early. 
She wore a pink robe over her pajama bottoms and shirt. The old sleepwear was loose and worn in from constant wear. She had bought it on a trip to Italy a few years ago and the soft material still held up. Her slippers were somewhere under her bed and her long polka dot socks came up to her thighs. If Terry wasn’t coming over to get his hair braided one would think she was about to go back to bed, which she probably would once he left. 
As Kyra set up the area she was going to use in her kitchen, facing the tv, she heard the doorbell ring and three hard knocks followed. Of course he was early. Taking her time, she flipped on the foyer light and unlatched the two locks. The deadbolt clicked back and she opened the door to see Terry in a black hoodie and another pair of sweat pants. His hair was picked out and she noticed his beard for the first time. He looked rough. 
“Goodmorning,’ she said through the screen door while reaching to unlock the tiny lock inside the handle. 
“Morning,’ he hummed, stepping inside as soon as he could. He brought her lips to his while dipping his tongue into her mouth. “Where you want me,’ he asked. 
“The be-uh, table, shit, there’s a chair at the table.” Kyra stepped around him so flustered she almost stubbed her toe on the table as she walked past. 
She could feel him behind her. The last time they were in this house they were saying goodbye to each other. Horizontality. Their fingers fumbled over each other as they clung to one another. 
Terry smiled and pulled off his hoodie, a fitted black tank top clung to his muscular frame. He plopped down in the chair, legs spread as if he was waiting for her to sit in his lap. She moved behind him after checking on her coffee.
“How many braids?” She asked, her fingers reaching into his hair. She was surprised his hair was freshly washed. 
Reaching behind her, she pour pink lotion into her hair and rubbed them together before sinking them into his head. She pulled the lotion through his hair, grabbing oil to apply to his ends. 
“Do what you want, baby,’ he replied. 
She hadn’t braided men’s hair in a long time so she decided to have a bit of fun. Making the first zig-zag part, she used the comb to hold his hair to the side. She applied a little ore oil to her fingers and placed her hands at the top of his hair line, gripping the hair firmly as she started to braid. 
“Is that too tight,’ she asked. 
“No, feels good.” 
Thirty minutes passed when her stomach started growling. Terry tiled his head back. 
“I can order something,’ he says. 
“You heard that?” 
“It’s been grumbling for the past ten minutes. I just didn’t want to say nothing.” 
She smacked a hand over his chest as he stands up, half his head braided. He reaches into his hoodie for his phone, pulling up a menu from a diner a few blocks over. 
“Why didn’t you say anything,’ she folds her arms over her chest at his smile. 
“You already popped me with the comb!” He laughs. “I wasn’t trying to get beat up.” 
When he sat back down, he let her work for a few more minutes as he worked up the courage to start the conversation they needed to have. 
“I was serious last night,’ he began. “There’s never been anyone else….long term for me.” Terry sighed, his hand coming to rub the back of his neck. “No one was you.” 
On braid six, with two to go, Kyra listened to him. He poured his heart out to her, telling her about Rebel Ridge, losing his cousin, the hate in that town and how it almost killed him. She noticed a scar on his back and when he mentioned getting shot she glanced down at it. Her fingers touched over the raised scar. Kyra smoothed her hands up his arms and rested them on his shoulders. 
“There’s a lot I want to tell you,’ she admitted. 
He was numerous entries in her journal. Her thoughts and feelings were all on paper and it was much easier to have him read it than say it aloud, but she’d get to that later. She could at least admit to one thing. 
“Terry,’ she says, wanting him to look at her. 
He tilted his head back and his hazel eyes stared into her brown ones. His full lips were slightly parted and she leaned down, kissing him upside down while she whispered her deepest feelings against his mouth. 
I love you. 
Terry jerked up, almost flying out of the seat. Kyra jumped back as he turned around and pushed her into the fridge. Hand on her belly, he propped the other on top of the fridge. 
“Say it again,’ he begged, lips wet after licking them twice. “Say that shit again.” 
“I love me some you.” She looks down for a moment. “When I went off to school I had hoped you would stop me and beg me to stay.” 
“I wouldn’t keep you from your dreams Kyra. I knew how much you wanted to be a nurse. I would have hated myself if I kept you here.” 
“I know. I would walk around campus hoping you were there, but we both needed to find out way out of Fontaine before we could find each other again, I guess.” 
“You don’t have to wonder where I am anymore.” 
Kyra glanced up at him. His eyes were hooded and low. The emotions swirling between them was overwhelming. He bent his knees so they were eye level. 
“As long as you’re at 345 E Fontaine Street I’m here with you. And if you leave, baby, I’m right behind you.”
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sluttywonwoo · 2 years ago
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aemulus. (noun) latin for rival or competitor. thought to be the origin of the name emily.
park seonghwa is in no position to ask you for a favor. but being underqualified for something has never stopped him before.
pairing: academic rival!seonghwa x fem!reader
details: grad school/nursing school au, fake dating
word count: 8.1k
warnings: swearing, food allergy, smut (18+ mdni), oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, discussion of birth control methods
a/n: for @sluttywoozi's birthday <3 (just a month and a half late)
playlist
“I need a favor.”
“From me?”
Seonghwa tongues his cheek and looks around. “Is there anyone else in the room?”
You scoff. You aren’t friends with Park Seonghwa. You don’t even particularly like Park Seonghwa. You know the feeling’s mutual so why was he asking you for a favor?
“If you want something from me you should try being a little nicer,” you mutter, turning your attention back to the textbook on the desk in front of you. 
You hear Seonghwa sigh beside you before he tries again. “Sorry, yes, I need a favor from you. I need a date to this event Dr. Harvey is hosting for all of his graduate mentees next weekend.”
Date? You? Your face must be scrunched up into an expression of confusion and concern because Seonghwa puts his hand out to stop you before you interject. 
“Yes, it has to be you. I-I’m trying to secure a position on his research team next semester and I need an extra edge.”
You raise an eyebrow. “And I’m the extra edge?”
“Exactly! Dr. Harvey loves you. If I show up with you on my arm, the spot is mine for sure.”
“You really think it’ll be that easy? I haven’t taken one of Dr. Harvey’s classes since undergrad.”
You’re not even a student in Seonghwa’s program, the one Dr. Harvey was the head of. There just happened to be some overlap between your field of study and his that required you to take some of the same courses. 
“But you were his TA last semester, and you’re the top student in the department, after me-” you have to fight the urge to roll your eyes, “he brings you up in almost every meeting we have,” he continues, sounding more than a little annoyed, “when we’re supposed to be talking about my dissertation.”
Despite the non-case Seonghwa was making on his behalf, you couldn’t help but feel a little curious. “He does? What does he say?’
“Usually, it’s little comments about how you would do something differently, which is not-so-subtle code for better. If you ever decide to write a dissertation on microbiology, let him know. I’m sure he’d love to be your mentor-” Seonghwa stops himself there, taking a deep breath as if to physically shake the bitterness from his demeanor. “Sorry. The point is that he thinks very highly of you and it would really help me out if you were my plus-one to this thing.”
“And what exactly does ‘this thing’ entail?”
“It’s a little appreciation banquet for all of the students he’s mentoring. He said it’s at this hotel, I think it’s downtown, and it’s a dinner and drinks in the evening and a brunch the next morning-”
“Wait, it’s overnight?” You hadn’t meant or intended to interrupt him but the prospect of spending the night in the same room with Park Seonghwa was enough to make you panic and forget your manners. 
Seonghwa looks annoyed that you cut him off but holds himself back from responding with something snippy. Instead, he lets it go. Unheard of for him.
“Yes, but it’s just one night.”
“One night?” He nods. “And I just have to show up with you?”
“Well, you’d pretend to be my girlfriend. ”
Right. That had sort of been implied when he asked but you were hoping that wasn’t the case. It honestly sounded like a nightmare, but the idea of having something to hold over Seonghwa’s head was tempting. 
Doing him the favor was one thing. The execution of said favor was another. Were you going to be able to put on a believable act as Seonghwa’s girlfriend? It certainly wasn’t going to come naturally to you... but you were friends with a bunch of theatre kids. You could pull it off. Probably. 
“Okay, well, what’s in it for me?” you ask.
He blinks, clearly caught off guard by your question like he hadn’t expected to get this far. 
“What do you want?”
Oh fuck. You scramble to think of something worthwhile that he could be of use for, coming up short in pretty much all aspects.
“My dad’s getting married in a couple of months. Our little duet can have an encore then.”
Seonghwa grins and offers his hand for you to shake. “Send me the details. Pleasure doing business.”
-
It isn’t until Seonghwa’s already left the classroom that he realizes he doesn’t even have your number. He’s known you for years now but has never had to contact you outside of the context of school. Never had reason to. He could turn around right now and go back and ask for your phone number. You’re still in there. 
He lets his pride get the better of him, and with a quiet groan, he shoves his hands in his pockets and keeps walking. He’ll just email you later to ask for it. 
-
You iron out the details over text, once Seonghwa finally gets your number. You had made fun of him in your reply email for forgetting to get it back when he begged you to come with him in the first place, which only reassured Seonghwa that he had made the right choice that day. It would’ve been way more embarrassing to have you say that to his face. 
He asks you to meet him at a cafe the day before the event so you can iron out your story together. You look nervous, he notes, so he tries to break the ice. 
“Thank you for agreeing to meet here. I would’ve had you over to my place, but my roommates are kind of obnoxious.”
“That’s okay. Thanks for the coffee.” You gesture with your cup, shaking the ice around before taking a tentative sip. 
“Least I could do, considering.”
You shrug. “You’re already repaying me by going to my dad’s wedding with me, but I’m not one to turn down free coffee.”
“Fair enough.” He clears his throat. “So, how’d we fall in love?”
-
Seonghwa picks you up at five pm on Saturday. He makes some comment about you looking nice that you don’t really believe he means, but you return the compliment anyway. He does look good. Annoyingly so. He had told you it was a formal event but you hadn’t expected him to show up in a fucking three-piece suit. 
His hair is slicked back on the side to show off his undercut, and wire-rimmed glasses sit on the bridge of his nose, the reflection of traffic lights and street lamps shining in the lenses. It’s a little intimidating to be on his arm for the night when he looks like that, not that you didn’t also dress for the occasion, he just... looks so sharp. 
“Do you have everything you need?” he asks as you climb into the passenger seat. “Pajamas? Toothbrush?”
“I think so.”
“If you forget something we can probably grab it at the kiosk they have in the lobby,” he assures you.
You groan. “Yeah, but we’ll have to pay a small fortune for it.”
“That’s the price of convenience.” He puts the car in drive and navigates out of your apartment complex’s parking lot onto the main road. “You can pick the music,” he offers after a moment of silence. 
“But you’re the one driving.”
“Is that a rule?”
“Yeah, the driver picks the music. Have you never heard of that before?”
He shakes his head but hums thoughtfully. “No, but I don’t mind. I’m not picky.”
“Shocking,” you mutter under your breath. 
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
You plug the aux into the lightning port on your phone and scroll through your playlist until you land on something you deem to be neutral enough to play in the background. You can feel Seonghwa watching you out of the corner of his eye but you willfully ignore it. 
“Do you remember the story?”
You nod. “We only got together officially a couple of months ago. You asked me out by waiting outside the door of one of my classes last semester-”
“Which class?”
“Um...” you frowned, trying to remember. 
“It was pharmacology.”
“Right. Sorry.”
“Just be sure to remember that.”
“I don’t think anyone is going to be interrogating us about our relationship,” you scoff. 
Seonghwa takes a deep breath. “You’re right, I’m sorry. This is just important to me and it needs to be believable. If anyone were to find out that I tried to pull this shit off just to get on Harvey’s good side... I don’t even know what would happen to me. Like, would I get expelled? I definitely wouldn’t get the position, I-”
“Woah,” you cut him off before he can spiral any further, “we... don’t have to do this. You can drop me off back at my apartment and pretend like it never happened. I won’t make you go to the wedding...”
“No, no I need you,” Seonghwa insists, panicked. “It just... didn’t occur to me how stupid this idea was until now.”
“If you think it’s a bad idea we shouldn’t do it,” you reason.
“It is a bad idea,” he agrees, “but I don’t know what else to do. Jung Wooyoung is vying for the same spot and he’s way more likable than me.”
“That’s not true, he’s just more of a kiss-ass.”
“Same thing. Either way, I already told them I was bringing a plus-one so I can’t show up without you.”
You nod, holding back from suggesting other alternatives. Seonghwa seemed resolute on going through with it and it wouldn’t do any good to try and convince him otherwise. He was like you in that way. Stubborn to a fault. Trying to “fix” the problem would only start an argument and that was the last thing you needed right now. So you let it go, and it only killed you on the inside a little bit. 
-
Seonghwa checks into your room as soon as you get to the hotel. Since it’s late in the afternoon, it’s already ready, and you go up to drop off your things before navigating to the ballroom together. 
You try to ignore the single king-size bed in the middle of the room but it’s like it’s glaring right at you, taunting you in the reflection of the vanity mirror as you reapply your lipgloss. If Seonghwa notices your apprehension about it he doesn’t say anything. 
“We don’t have to go over the top,” Seonghwa reminds you in the elevator. “You don’t have to kiss me or be super touchy if you don’t want to. Some hand holding and familiarity should do it.”
“Are you sure?” 
He smirks at you. “I mean, if you want to kiss me, you’re more than welcome to. But it wasn’t part of our agreement.”
You stare at him. He had never said anything like that to you before. It felt like it had come out of nowhere. The smirk falls when he sees your reaction and he side steps away from you, clearing his throat awkwardly. 
“Sorry, I was, uh, I was kidding. It was, I wasn’t-”
The elevator dings to signal its arrival on the first floor before Seonghwa can finish whatever excuse he was stuttering through. He motions for you to exit first, putting his arm in front of the door to keep it from closing. When you turn back to look at him, he’s all calm and collected again like nothing even happened. The only evidence of ruffled feathers was the pressed set of his lips and the pink tinge of his cheeks. 
“Ready?” he asks, straightening his tie. 
“As I’ll ever be.”
He offers his hand to you and you take it, entwining your fingers with his. His thumb finds the back of your hand and draws absentminded circles. You’re not sure if it’s supposed to be comforting but it is. 
There are already a few people mingling when you and Seonghwa make it to the ballroom. You don’t recognize any of them but that was to be expected. Seonghwa had said that it was an intimate event, just Dr. Harvey, his mentees, and their potential plus-ones. Not everyone is here yet from what you can tell. You can’t hear Jung Wooyoung’s loud voice echoing throughout the hall so you figure he must be one of the late ones. 
The way the room is decorated reminds you a bit of Christmas with the opulent chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and the ivy garlands laid across the tables. All that's missing are the trees wrapped in lights and potted poinsettias in every corner.
Dr. Harvey is in the middle of a conversation with a couple of other students when he spots the two of you. He excuses himself and approaches you with a smile. 
“I’m glad that you both could make it!” he says, greeting you with a hug. 
He hugs your fake boyfriend next and claps him firmly on the back. Seonghwa coughs at the unexpected hit but plays it off easily with a chuckle. 
“When Park told me he was bringing you, I thought he was kidding. I couldn’t believe he finally got the guts to ask you out.”
Seonghwa stiffens next to you but keeps the smile plastered on his face. You, on the other hand, can’t mask your surprise. 
“What do you mean?” you press. 
“Oh, just that I sort of wondered if you kids would get together,” he explains. “You used to argue in my class all the time as undergraduates, but whenever we had group activities you would pair up anyway.”
“That’s because we didn’t trust anyone else with the work,” Seonghwa points out. 
You squeeze his hand urgently, trying to tell him to shut the fuck up before he ruins his chances with his big mouth. Thankfully, he seems to get the message and relaxes a little but you can tell he still wants to protest.   
“You didn’t even trust each other with the work,” the professor corrects. “You would bicker about every little thing under your breath when you thought I couldn’t hear even though you always sat in the front of the classroom.”
“I guess we are a little competitive,” you admit with a grin, looking up at Seonghwa with what you hope comes across as affection. 
“That’s an understatement, my love,” he agrees.
“Well, it’s nice to see that you’ve been able to turn that energy into something positive,” Dr. Harvey says. “What changed?”
“Well, we’d been seeing each other for a while and finally decided to make it official,” Seonghwa muses. 
And by ‘seeing each other’ he meant fucking. When you decided on your story that day in the cafe, Seonghwa had said it would make the most sense if your fake relationship budded from a friends-with-benefits thing- or acquaintances with benefits, whatever the two of you were. But of course, you couldn’t tell your professor that so you had to more so imply it by talking around the subject.
“Well, I hope that you being together means I’ll get to see more of your face. Park, you need to bring your girlfriend around the department some time. I’m sure the other faculty miss you too.”
Seonghwa nods. “I’ll be sure to do that, sir.”
“Great! I think some more people are starting to trickle in so I should go say hello, but please help yourselves to drinks while we wait for dinner.”
You both thank him and wait before saying anything else to each other. 
“I think that went okay,” Seonghwa sighs.
“Could’ve been worse,” you agree. 
He takes a quick look around before turning back to you. “Do you want something to drink, baby?”
“God, yes.”
At the bar, Seonghwa orders you both a glass of wine. It’s an open bar but there’s a little fish bowl for tips balanced on the edge of the counter so he deposits a couple of bills in it as he thanks the bartender.
He holds one of the glasses out to you with a half-smile. “Cheers.”
“To getting through the night,” you propose. 
“To getting through the night.”
-
Dinner is a choice between a chicken pasta dish, a beef and potatoes dish, and ratatouille that could be made vegan upon request. 
“Does the pesto have pine nuts in it?” Seonghwa asks the server when he reaches your end of the table.
“No, all of our options tonight are nut-free,” he replies. 
“Perfect, thank you. Did you want the pasta, then, baby?” 
“I- yes please.”
“And I’ll get the beef and we can share.”
“Sounds good,” the server says as he jots down your orders on his little notepad. 
You wait until he moves on to the next guest before leaning over to your date and whispering “I can’t believe you remembered.”
“Hm?”
“You remembered... I’m allergic to tree nuts.”
He shrugs like it’s no big deal and murmurs, “you almost dying in the middle of chem lab our freshman year is pretty hard to forget.”
He had a point. Still, you were surprised he remembered the girl that collapsed to the floor and had to be stabbed in the thigh with an EpiPen all those years ago as you. You’re not sure if you’d remember the details so clearly if it were the other way around. 
All of the dishes were pre-prepared by the hotel’s event catering staff so they were served almost immediately after the orders were taken. 
Dr. Harvey led the conversation, engaging each of his students about their studies and personal lives. He was even sure to include the plus ones at the table, making an effort to get to know them as well. That was why Dr. Harvey had been one of your favorite professors, why you’d agreed to TA for him when he asked. He genuinely cared about his students, wanted them to succeed and was willing to go the extra mile to help them do so. You still remember crying in his office over a failed lab report, remember how he had patiently walked you through what you’d done wrong until it finally clicked for you, how he ended up giving you half of the credit you missed back just for following up and showing how dedicated you were to learning the material.
Even now as he listens to his mentees talk about everything under the sun, he doesn’t want anyone to feel left out. 
A hand on your thigh startles you out of your zoning out. You had been trying your best to pay attention but it’s just so hard to stay attentive when Wooyoung opens his mouth. He’s been talking about algae for what you estimate to be the past twelve minutes- so in your defense, you never stood a chance anyway.
“Do you want another glass of wine?” Seonghwa asks, low enough for only you to hear.
You hadn’t even realized you’d finished your first one. It had probably happened sometime in the middle of Wooyung’s rambling. 
“Yes please.”
“Okay, be right back.”
He stands from the table and takes both yours and his empty glasses in one hand, using the other to push his chair back in. Thankfully, he’s back before you can be cornered by the others at the table. You can feel it, the curiosity your presence invokes from your peers. You only recognize a few of them but all of the sideways glances make you wonder how many of them suspect why you’re really here. Maybe you’re being paranoid. Maybe they’re just surprised Seonghwa managed to pull anyone at all... no, that couldn’t be it. He’s too hot, his personality alone wouldn’t be enough to deter anyone from going out with him. 
“What’s wrong?”
You take a sip from your newly refilled glass of wine and try to play it off. “Hm? What do you mean?”
“You’re making a face.”
“What face? This is just my face.”
“No, you’ve got that wrinkle in between your eyebrows. You’re worrying about something. What is it?”
You sigh and lean over to whisper in his ear. “I feel like your... friends think it’s weird that I’m here.”
“These people aren’t my friends.”
“I know. I didn’t know what else to call them- is that really the part of what I said that you think is important?”
“Why do you think they think it’s weird?”
“I don’t know, I just keep noticing everyone looking at me.”
“It’s probably because you’re pretty,” he suggests, which makes you want to change the subject entirely. 
He thinks you’re pretty? Does he think you’re pretty or does he think other people think you’re pretty? What would possess him to say something like that?
“That- no, it’s not that.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because I know what a dirty look is and I’ve been getting a lot of them. Do you think they’re onto us?”
Seonghwa makes a displeased sound in the back of his throat. “I don’t know. Maybe I underestimated the number of people applying for the same position as me.”
“Maybe, and maybe they know we haven’t always gotten along and are suspicious of why this is the first they’re hearing of us dating.”
“I guess we need to turn it up, then,” Seonghwa muses under his breath. 
“Wha- that’s not what I-”
-
After dinner, there’s a bit of mingling. You get the opportunity to formally introduce yourself to the guests you’ve never met before and answer the burning question on everyone’s mind as to why you’re there in the first place. 
Seonghwa’s hand is warm on the small of your back, making you wish you had decided against wearing a backless dress. Although, you suspect you still would have been able to feel the heat of his palm through the silk had it offered more coverage. 
“Didn’t think you had it in you, Park,” Hongjoong, you thought his name was, says as he wraps an arm around his own date. In her heels, she’s taller than him by an inch or so, and somehow it only makes the man more intimidating. “Thought you were too busy for dating, or was that just an excuse?”
“I am busy. But when you meet the right person, you make time. You of all people should know that.”
Hongjoong narrows his eyes almost imperceptibly and grins. “You’re right, we’re all fools for love, aren’t we?”
“It certainly seems that way.”
Seonghwa and Hongjoong continue exchanging semi-polite small talk until the latter’s date tugs him away, mumbling something about needing another drink. 
“I didn’t realize you were so popular,” you say under your breath once the two are out of earshot.
“Yeah, you’re not the only one who hates me,” he mutters. 
“And here I thought we had something special.”
Seonghwa gives you a half-smile. “Sorry to break it to you like this.”
“For what it’s worth, I don’t hate you,” you clarify, voice lowered. 
He can’t hide his surprise as his eyes widen. “Wait, really?”
You nod. “I wouldn’t lie about something like that.”
He straightens up a bit, stiffening, and you wonder if you’ve said something wrong. “Good to know.”
You each have another drink before the night ends. Champagne is served with dessert and Dr. Harvey proposes a toast to all of his students once everyone’s gathered around the table again. 
You clink your glass to Seonghwa’s and take a sip. The bubbles soothe your throat, making the lies you’ve been telling all night easier to swallow. 
You’re not drunk, you haven’t had that much to drink, but the alcohol is definitely making you feel lighter. People have started filtering out of the ballroom to go to their rooms but a few linger a little longer, taking advantage of the free booze and relaxed atmosphere. Your professor flits between the remaining students, continuing conversations that had been cut short during or before dinner. 
Soft music is playing over the speakers and a few couples are dancing to it. Seonghwa hadn’t said anything about dancing, it probably wasn’t on the actual itinerary, but he draws you out to the floor without warning. You want to protest but his hands are already on your hips and your chest is already pressed to his. You don’t think you’ve ever been this close to him, save bumping into each other in labs and accidentally spilling samples down your coats. Based on the number of times that had happened, you don’t expect Seonghwa to be particularly graceful. But he seems intent on proving you wrong as he leads you to the rhythm. 
“I didn’t know you could dance,” you murmur. 
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he quips back. 
You quirk an eyebrow. “Yeah? Like what?” 
He seems to think about it for a moment before answering. “I love Star Wars.”
“I already knew that.”
“What?”
“You used to bring a Darth Vader thermos to class. The lid was his helmet.”
“Legos?”
“Lego guy keychain.”
“Animal Crossing?”
“You’d literally play it in class.”
Seonghwa smirks. “Wow.”
“What?”
“I just didn’t realize you were obsessed with me.”
“Wha- I’m not obsessed with you!” you sputter. “I’m just very observant! And you make your interests too obvious.”
“Sure, whatever you say,” he teases, making you roll your eyes. 
He spins you before you get the chance to argue again, extending his arm all the way and then whipping it back so that you’re stumbling into his embrace. 
“My turn, then?” he asks. 
You feel your face scrunch up in confusion before you can stop it. “What do you mean?”
“Your favorite color is pink,” he whispers, as if it’s some kind of secret. “You love The Lord of the Rings. You quote it all the time. You like to cook. You always brought your leftovers for lunch and everyone would ask how you made whatever it was because it smelled so good.”
You’re staring at him now, lips slightly parted in surprise. His gaze flickers down to them and then back up. He smiles. 
“You’re not the only observant one.”
A song is still playing but you’ve stopped dancing. It’s like you’re standing in the eye of a storm, surrounded by music and conversation that blurs and distorts around you. It all sounds muffled, but that might just be the ringing in your ears. You realize what’s about to happen a moment before it does but you’re still unprepared when Seonghwa kisses you. 
His lips are softer than you expected, not that you’ve imagined kissing him before... not that you ever wondered. His arms are still around your waist and he pulls you in closer, deepening the kiss. 
You’re stiff at first, unsure of what to do with your arms or your own lips, but you relax when you feel his tongue swipe at your bottom lip. He makes a contented sort of sound in the back of his throat when you open your mouth for him. It’s just slightly, just enough for him to get a taste, but he seems pleased nonetheless. 
Distant cheering in the background startles the both of you out of your daze, pops the little bubble you’d somehow found yourselves in. It’s then that you remember that you’re in public, and that you probably shouldn’t be sucking each other's faces off in the middle of this very nice ballroom in front of your peers. 
You part, both a little breathless. 
“I hope that was okay,” Seonghwa whispers against your cheek. 
“It was, yeah. It was okay. More than okay.”
“Good. I’m glad.” He grins, the upturn of his cheeks pushing his specs higher on his nose, making glimmers of light from the chandelier dance in the reflection of the glass like stars falling from the sky. One of his hands strays from your waist to take your own.  “Wanna get out of here?”
You’re nodding before your brain can fully process the question. “Yes please.” 
-
The journey back up to your room is a blur. You vaguely register bidding Hongjoong, Dr. Harvey, and a couple of other people whose names had long since slipped your mind goodnight. You’re not sure what you said, Seonghwa probably took the lead. 
Your cheeks are warm with embarrassment as you make your way out of the hall hand in hand. You feel like everyone knows what you’re about to do. And with a kiss like that in a crowded room, it wouldn’t be hard to figure out.
But did it really matter if they knew you were about to get your back blown out? It would only help sell the story to them even more. At least, that’s what you’re telling yourself, still not ready to admit that you’re not playing pretend anymore. 
The clicking of your heels on the marble sounds entirely too loud as you walk through the lobby to the elevator bay. The lights have been dimmed for the night, emulating the darkness outside. Only a few employees remain behind the desks, stationed for any late check-ins. The rest had surely clocked out hours ago when the rush ended.
“Do you have a key?” Seonghwa asks you, eyeing the purse you’d somehow remembered to grab on your way out. 
You did, but, “there’s one in your pocket.”
His hand comes to the front of his pants, feeling for the plastic card. “Right. Sorry.”
He uses the key to activate the elevator and then he uses it again to open the door to your room. The ride up had been silent, and a little awkward, both of you standing on opposite sides of the tiny room, avoiding eye contact.  
You wonder if the energy has shifted, if the moment has passed. Had he suddenly come to his senses? Was he already regretting kissing you? 
You don’t get the chance to ask either of these things, however, because he’s kissing you again as soon as you stumble into the room. It’s dark, so everything is a little uncoordinated, but it almost seems fitting for you and Seonghwa. 
He presses you up against the door, fingers fumbling with the ties on the back of your dress. It’s hard for him to undo them when he can’t see what he’s doing, too occupied with kissing his way down your neck. 
“Fuck this,” he gasps, breaking away. “Lift up your arms.”
You do, gasping as Seonghwa tugs the silk up and over your head. It’s the kind of dress you can’t wear a bra with so you’re left completely bare from the waist up. 
“Fuck me,” he breathes, running his hands over your body. 
“I’m trying.”
A beat lapses before Seonghwa lets out a quiet chuckle. You’re the one to pull him back this time, tugging at his suit jacket as you kiss him in an attempt to get it off his shoulders. 
“Let me, um,” he mumbles against your lips, feeling along the wall of the little hallway you’re standing in for something. “Let me turn on a lamp or something. I want to see you.”
The comment makes you feel shy but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to see him too so you let him go and only laugh a little bit when he trips over his suitcase on the way over to the desk.
“Oh, would you rather have it off?” he asks, noticing the way you’re holding your arms over your chest. 
“No, no, I want to see you too,” you assure him. “I just feel kind of weird being the only one naked.”
“Well that’s an easy fix.”
He makes his way back over to you, loosening his tie as he does. He leaves it hanging around his neck so that you can take it off for him. The satin feels heavy in your hands and you wonder briefly how it would feel tied around your wrists- another time, maybe. 
Seonghwa focuses on unbuttoning his shirt while you lift the tie over his head, hands brushing together as you work in tandem. 
You reach for his belt but he ducks out of your grasp with a grin, shrugging off the button up as he sinks down onto his knees in front of you. You barely register the feeling of his hands on your thighs. You’re too caught up with the way he’s looking up at you. He’s taken his glasses off, though you don’t know when- or where he’s put them for that matter, and is gazing up at you like painted the cosmos themselves. Like he fully intends on worshiping you. 
Park Seonghwa on his knees. What a sight. 
“Can I?” he asks, fingers gently wedging themselves in between your legs to part them. “Please?”
You nod. 
“I need you to say it.”
“You can,” you whisper. 
“I can... what?” Seonghwa presses. “I haven’t even said what it is I want to do to you.”
He’s taunting you now. It’s obvious what he meant when he asked you but he just loves pushing your buttons too much to stop, even when he’s on the verge of begging to taste your pussy. 
“You can do whatever you want to me,” you breathe. 
“Fuck.”
You nearly lose your balance as Seonghwa lifts one of your legs over his shoulder but he plants both of his hands on your ass and pulls you onto his face before that can happen. He groans at the first taste of you, even though it’s over your panties. You’re not sure whether he meant to leave them on to be even more of a tease or if he had just simply forgotten to take them off in the rush to get you on his tongue. 
They’re the seamless kind, the kind that aren’t supposed to show through thin material. You’d chosen to wear them with your dress instead of suffering through the discomfort of a thong all night. The comfort was a benefit. The sheerness was a drawback. You might as well not be wearing anything with how form fitting they were, especially considering how wet you already are.
Your hands are in Seonghwa’s hair and you’re trying not to pull too hard but you have to anchor yourself to something or you’re afraid your knees will buckle. 
“That’s it,” he praises, nose nudging your clit as he licks into you. It’s muffled but you can still make it out, if just barely. “Harder, baby.”
“Are you s-sure?”
He nods and the motion makes you want to cry out. “I won’t break. Promise.”
You decide to trust his word and tug a little harder. He moans and rewards you by pushing his tongue inside of you. He can only go so far with the fabric of your underwear restricting him but it’s enough to get you to whimper his name. 
-
God, you sound so pretty, it’s almost too much for Seonghwa to handle. You taste just as good as he’d always imagined, better even, and he’s losing all sense of control because of it. He can tell he’s making you feel good but this won’t be enough to get you to cum, at least, not as hard as he wants you to before he fucks you... if that’s where the night ends up going. He would be more than happy to have you cum on his tongue, kiss you goodnight, and then fall asleep beside you if that’s what you wanted.   
He manages to get your panties out of the way and to the side with his teeth before diving back in and sucking your clit into his mouth. You make a little surprised sound and melt into him even more. 
He wants to get his fingers inside of you too, but it would be difficult with the way the two of you are positioned so he pulls back and jerks his head in the direction of the bed. You help him to his feet and pull him in for a kiss, moaning at the way you taste on his lips. 
Seonghwa didn’t think it was possible for him to get any harder than he already is but you’re always going and proving him wrong. 
You release him after another moment and fall back onto the mattress, calling to him like a siren. You don’t actually say anything, but you don’t have to. The sight of you on the bed you’ll share with your legs spread and your thighs still glistening with your arousal and his saliva is all it’d take for Seonghwa to throw himself into the sea and drown in you. 
He takes off his slacks finally, just to give himself a bit of relief, and joins you on the bed as fast as humanly possible.
“Can I take these off?” he asks, running his fingers over the soaked patch of your underwear. 
“Please,” you laugh. 
You lift your hips so that he can pull them off of you and then he’s back in between your legs with your thighs clamped around his head so tightly he can’t hear anything aside from your desperate pleas for him not to stop. 
He doesn’t even realize he’s been grinding into the mattress until you’re cumming on his tongue and it takes everything in him to hold back from falling over the edge with you. 
“Hwa...” 
Your voice is so distant he doesn’t hear it until you repeat it. The nickname makes his heart do a little somersault. You’ve never called him that before. It makes him want to smile like an idiot and not fight so hard to suppress those pesky feelings he’s been harboring for you for God knows how long. He wants to kiss you all over and make love to you and give you a little house on his Animal Crossing island even though he’d have to rearrange the entire layout. He actually brought his switch with him, it’s in his bag and he could go get it right now and-
“Hwa!”
Fuck. Right. He pushes the aforementioned feelings down again, clears his throat, and plays it cool. “Hm? What’s up?” His voice cracks on the ‘up’ because of course it does. So much for playing it cool. 
“Can you fuck me, please?” 
He feels like he could fall through the floor. How the fuck could you sound so polite asking to get your back blown out like that? His dick twitches against his thigh and Seonghwa has to take a deep breath to steel himself before answering. 
“You sure you want to keep going? You want this?”
“God, yes,” you whine, leaning forward to try and pull him on top of you. “Are you going to make me beg for it?”
Tempting, but, “no, it’s just... I have to tell you something.”
Jesus, was he really doing this now? It felt like the worst possible moment to bring it up but he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he slept with you without coming clean. He’d already gone further than he probably should have, judgment clouded by lust and alcohol and the lingering scent of your perfume on your neck. 
You face falls, making Seonghwa realize he definitely should have worded it differently. 
“It’s not anything bad! I don’t think...”
“Just tell me,” you say flatly. 
“Um, remember in the car earlier today when we were going through our story, and you couldn’t remember what class I asked you out after?”
“And you yelled at me about it?”
“I didn’t yell at you-” he pauses, and squeezes his eyes shut. This was why he kept going back and forth over what he was about to say, why he was hesitating even now. “I reacted the way I did because... I actually was going to ask you out that night after your pharmacology class got out.”
“What?”
“I was there, waiting outside and I-I chickened out.”
You blink in disbelief. “You don’t... hate me?”
“Hate you? I never hated you!” You give him a look. “There was a bit of... animosity between us, but it was never hate! At least, not for me! Did you hate me?”
It’s your turn to feel exposed. That’s what Seonghwa thinks you feel anyway, from the look on your face. 
“No... I already told you I didn't! It was... what you described.”
Seonghwa narrows his eyes at you. “I don’t believe you.”
“I mean, like you said, it wasn’t hate. I just didn’t particularly like you. And I thought that was a mutual thing.”
“It was!” he agrees quickly. A little too quickly, maybe. “It was. For a while. And then it wasn’t. But I never said anything about it because I kept thinking it was just a phase I was going through. I thought I’d get over it and you’d never have to know.”
“But that never happened?” He shakes his head. “But you built up the courage to show up and ask me out that day. You had to have accepted it then.”
He sighs and rolls onto his back. “I guess I did, but like I said, I was a coward. When I peeked through the window on the door, I saw you laughing and joking around with your friends and I just thought about how it’s never been like that with us. And I thought it’d never work out because we’re... us. We bicker all of the time. We’re always competing. That didn’t magically go away when I realized I had feelings for you. So I thought you deserved someone who you’d actually get along with.” 
“Well, that should have been up to me to decide,” you say. 
“I know,” Seonghwa admits with a groan. Then, he bolts upright. “Wait, would you have said yes?”
“Probably.”
“What do you mean probably?”
“I mean, I would’ve liked to see where it went. I’ve always thought you were attractive.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, it’s one of the things about you that annoyed me.” Seonghwa scoffs. “Just being honest.”
“Well, if I’m being honest,” he counters, propping himself up on his elbow. “I kind of like it when we bicker.”
“Don’t tell me it turns you on.”
“Only sometimes.”
You roll your eyes at him. “You’re sick.”
He shrugs. “It’s only because you’re so hot when you’re mad at me.”
“You must be really horny right now, then,” you mutter. 
“You’re mad at me?” 
“Yes, I’m mad at you! You’ve been keeping your little crush on me a secret all this time! And you chose now to tell me?”
“I know, I’m sorry. I have the worst timing.”
“Understatement of the year.”
Seonghwa figures he deserves that one so he lets it slide even though it chips at his pride. “Wait, so... what does that make us? If we feel the same way, shouldn’t we give it a real shot?”
You groan, putting your hands over your face. “Can we talk about it after you fuck me stupid? I’m still so wet I can’t think about anything else.”
“Oh yeah, right.” He sits up and rolls back on top of you, caging you in. He presses his thigh between your legs so that you can grind on it as he kisses you again. “Are you sure arguing with me doesn’t make you horny?” he teases. “Can feel you throbbing against me, baby.”
“I’m horny because you’re hot and your dick is hard.” 
And because you like him, Seonghwa thinks giddily. 
“We can talk about it later, then,” he surrenders, reaching down to pump himself a few times. “As long as you’ll say you’re mine.”
You tilt your head to the side as you process his request. “Yours?”
“Mine.”
“You want me to be yours?”
“If that’s something you want.”
“It is something I want.”
“Then say it.”
“I’m yours.”
“Fuck,” Seonghwa hisses, grinding against you. He’s not even inside of you yet and he feels like he could explode.
“Please, Hwa,” you whisper and reach down to line him up yourself.
“Wait fuck, I don’t have a condom.”
“I have an IUD. It’s okay,” you assure him.
“Are you sure?”
“As long as you’re clean.”
“I am, I haven’t been with anyone since last year, and I’ve been tested.”
“Me too.”
“Then we’re good?” he asks. 
“We’re good.”
“Perfect. Deep breath, baby.”
Seonghwa’s arms threaten to give out the instant he begins to push himself inside of you. He should have been the one to take a deep breath. He already knows how you taste so he really should have been more prepared for how good you would feel but then again Seonghwa had always been a bit Icarian in nature so his overly ambitious attitude is pretty par for the course in light of everything. 
“Hold on, just... just give me a second,” he stutters.
He swears you clench around him purposefully, playing it off with a meek “sorry, it was an accident” when he glares at you. He wouldn’t put it past you to turn this into a competition too, but he wants to remember your first time together as something special. He wants to be in the moment with you, wants to make you cum over and over and over on his cock until you can’t say anything but his name. He wants to make tonight all about you. He wants to make every night about you, but he’ll have to start with tonight. 
“Are you okay?” you ask him, voice so sweet he almost has to pull out so he doesn’t end what’s barely started. 
“You feel too good,” he admits, dropping his head into the crook of your shoulder. 
“If you cum now, we can just go again, right?”
Right. He forgot about that. He needs to stop thinking with his dick. 
“Yeah, right. Right.”
“Fucked out already?” you tease, brushing his hair out of his eyes. 
“It’s you,” he pants weakly. “How can I not be?”
You open your mouth, probably about to say something smart in reply but he rolls his hips just as you do, pushing himself deeper inside of you. The words seem to dissolve on your tongue, your mouth falling open in a moan instead.
“What was that, baby?” he asks, moving even faster now.
You answer in mumbled nonsense. Seonghwa smirks down at you and leans forward to kiss the point where your neck meets your collarbone. He thinks about what a hickey would look like there, what kind of attention it would draw from everyone tomorrow morning. 
He can’t dwell on it for too long, though, because you’re yanking him back up by his hair, warning him that you’re about to cum.
“Already?”
“It’s you,” you repeat his own words back to him, and he feels his own stomach tense up in anticipation. “You and your perfect dick.”
Okay, so, less romantic than his sentiment but the structure was still there. It made him feel warm inside nonetheless. 
“Can I cum, please? Please?”
“Do you think you can be quiet? We don’t want a noise complaint, remember?” 
“I c-can be quiet.”
You’re lying through your teeth and Seonghwa can tell, he’s known you for so long now that he;’s memorized all of your tells. But he’s right there on the edge too and he wants nothing more than to cum with you.
“I’m close too, baby. Shit, can I cum inside you? Please?”
“God, yes- please, give it to me...”
He kisses you as he cums, managing to swallow some of your moans and cries of his name as you cum even harder than you did the first time. He’s sensitive by the time you finally come down from it but he doesn’t pull out. 
“Can we lay like this for a second?”
You nod easily, letting out a soft laugh when Seonghwa drops his weight on top of you. “I don’t think I can move anyway.”
“Not with that attitude, you can’t.”
“Oh my god, get off of me.”
“Sorry, what was that? Couldn’t hear you.”
“You’re the worst!”
“The worst at what?”
“Everything!”
“You didn’t seem to think that a few minutes ago,” he points out. 
“I’m having post-nut clarity,” you mumble, pushing weakly at his shoulders. 
“I didn’t know that happened to girls,” he muses. 
“There’s a lot you don’t know about women,” you snap, still struggling underneath him. “Maybe if you talked to one once and a while you’d be more knowledgeable on the subject.” 
“I’m talking to you, aren’t I?”
“That’s because I- are you getting hard again?” you ask in disbelief. 
“I told you that bickering with you turns me on!”
“You are unbelievable!”
Seonghwa kisses you and rolls his hips experimentally. You moan, relaxing under him immediately. 
“Fuck, that feels good,” you sigh against his lips. 
“Yeah, we’re definitely going to be late to brunch tomorrow.”
happy birthday emily!! i'm so lucky to call you my bestie and i hope you enjoyed your very late present :)
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say-al0e · 2 years ago
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You Proof
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Rating: PG-13
Summary: Bob never imagined the Hard Deck would play such an important part in his life. But after meeting the love of his life there, he can’t imagine his life without it. | Ft. “Do I make you nervous?” Requested by Anon.
Warnings: Drinking, allusion to sex, that’s about it. 
Pairing: Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x fem!Reader
Word Count: 3k (a short one? Who am I?)
Top Gun Taglist | Top Gun Masterlist
Robert Floyd never imagined the Hard Deck would become such a large part of his life.
Bars, in general, had never been his scene. He wasn’t much of a drinker, really only indulged on special occasions - and rarely had more than a drink or two - and had never been especially fond of large crowds. Besides, before his return to Top Gun, he’d never really had a group of friends to tag along with and long ago decided that sitting at a bar alone was worse for his reputation than simply not going.
During his initial stint at Top Gun, Bob heard about the Hard Deck. It was almost impossible not to know the place by name as it seemed to be where everyone spent their weekends, a place to unwind and potentially meet someone. Still, as omnipresent as it seemed to be in the lives of his classmates, it was a place Bob never ventured himself. 
The place always seemed a little too daunting - too loud, too busy, too full of officers he’d rather not spend time with outside of work. Way back when, he just couldn’t understand the appeal.
Now, however, he found himself seated on a barstool near the pool table at least once a week.
It seemed that now, more often than not, he settled in at the beginning of the night after a text from Phoenix or Rooster beckoned him. As they drank their beers, he nursed a Coke and laughed at the latest petty argument someone seemed to be having with Hangman.
Everyone took turns around the pool table or attempting to run through every trick shot Hangman seemed capable of with darts and enjoyed a few moments of downtime in an otherwise hectic life. And each night, he sat with his friends - a group he’d never expected to belong to but now couldn’t imagine a life without - and enjoyed being a part of something larger than himself.
The friends he’d made were enough to bring him back to the Hard Deck time and time again. They were enough to have him settled on a barstool for hours as they all talked and laughed and commiserated. They were enough to make him happy, content and relaxed for the first time in a long while, and Bob really couldn’t have asked for much more.
Then, he met you.
Somewhere amongst the chaos and the khaki, amidst the beer and pool and laughter, you were thrown into his life. He’d never seen you before - he felt like Hangman even thinking it, but he was so captivated that he knew he would’ve remembered your face - and though you stood out, dressed in a soft blue sundress in a sea of uniforms, he he liked to believe he would’ve noticed you regardless.
A rowdy Friday night crowd sent you stumbling into him, quite literally, and he almost hadn’t heard your immediate apology over the beating of his own heart. If he’d thought you were pretty from afar, up close, he was certain you were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen.
It was a miracle he’d managed to string together a coherent sentence, let alone participate in an entire conversation with you, but he’d somehow managed. He not only managed to captivate your attention long enough to learn your name, he left the Hard Deck that night with your number programmed into his phone and a promise of another meeting.
Since then, Bob rarely ventured to the Hard Deck alone.
Instead of sitting on a barstool alone, a wallflower - by choice now, no longer excluded from the conversation - he had you right by his side. You joined his laughter as Phoenix managed to outwit Hangman once more. You happily listened as Fanboy, well, fanboyed over the latest super hero film he’d seen and Bob asked questions because he knew what it was like to have no one take an interest. You joined in on conversations and never once looked put out by the amount of time you spent in a Navy bar, though he sometimes imagined you’d rather be anywhere else.
Bob spent a significant amount of time at the Hard Deck but now, so did you.
When you told him that you were planning a girls’ night with Phoenix, he figured the pair of you would venture to a nicer bar in the city. There was no shortage of fun places, ones where you weren’t likely to run into someone who only knew you as Bob’s girlfriend, but he’d been mistaken.
The Hard Deck was your top choice and he understood why.
Like Bob, you weren’t one to overindulge. Though you tended to have a drink when you visited the Hard Deck - something light he would occasionally steal a sip of - it was rarely more than one or two. However, it had been a long week for both you and Phoenix so he had an inkling the self-imposed limit would be out the door sooner rather than later.
Any other bar, you would’ve been constantly looking over your shoulder, a little too worried to truly let go. The Hard Deck felt safer - though he knew you would still remain vigilant, as would Phoenix - and gave you both a chance to enjoy yourselves a little more. The Hard Deck was your environment now, a place you felt comfortable, and he understood the need for that space as he encouraged the guys to opt for another venue.
At the beginning of the night, he promised to pick you up. No matter your argument - “I don’t want you to miss out on guys’ night! I can just get an Uber.” - he insisted, always eager to spend whatever time with you he could. You weren’t guaranteed anything and he wanted to be there, in any way he could.
And true to his word, when you called, Bob answered.
The guys were all still gathered at Maverick’s - Rooster, Hangman, Coyote, Fanboy, and Payback, all still sipping beer and listening intently to the captain’s greatest stories, and to a few embarrassing stories about Rooster - but he’d bid them all goodnight and headed straight for you.
Bob figured he could’ve found his way through the chaos in the dark as he wandered through the Saturday night crowd. They spilled out into the parking lot, a mix of locals and officers he’d grown almost fond of, but it was familiar. He knew the place like the back of his hand and had no problem weaving through tipsy crowds in search of your usual table.
Nestled near the pool tables, sat on the barstool he usually occupied, you and Natasha were locked in what seemed to be an intense conversation. The closer he drew, the clearer your words became.
“No,” you insisted, huffing as you swirled your straw in the remnants of your drink. “I think Rooster would win in a physical fight because he’s got a lot of repressed rage. Hangman would be fine for a bit but I think he’d go down quick.” 
Bob paused just shy of your table, just out of sight, and did nothing to hide his amusement as he watched Natasha shake her head. “Rooster’s not a fighter,” she refuted, grip on her drink loose as she lifted it halfway to her mouth before thinking better of the action. “He’d start to throw a punch and then realize what he’d done. No one would win.”
“D’you really think Rooster would pass up the opportunity to hit him? I know you’re all friends now but I think he’d still take a swing.” 
While Bob no longer dreaded the sight of Hangman entering a room - they really had become friends, brothers, even - there were still moments he would easily admit he fantasized about throwing something heavy in his direction. He knew he wasn’t alone, if Natasha’s rolled eyes and nod of acknowledgement was anything to go by, and shook his head as you grinned triumphantly.
Natasha drained the rest of her drink in one sip, easily downing the rest of a brightly colored drink Bob imagined would leave her with a hangover worthy of complaint the following day, before she fixed you with a grin. “What about Bob?”
“What about Bob?” 
It didn’t take the keenest eye or the sharpest ear to notice the way you softened at her mention of him, the way you went just a little lovesick and smiled with just the utterance of his name, and Bob felt his heart beat double in his chest. While your relationship had long since evolved past the honeymoon stage, the softness - the care, the adoration - was still ever-present and he’d started to hope it would never fade.
The friends you shared, however, merely rolled their eyes. “Who’d win in a fight, Bob or Hangman?”
“Bob’s not a fighter,” you declared, immediately and without sparing a moment to think. “He’s a sweetheart.”
“You’re telling me Bob would pass up the opportunity to fight Hangman?” Natasha repeated your earlier argument, grinning when you rolled your eyes, and Bob nearly laughed as you slid your drink to the center of the table and rested your chin in your hand.
“No. I think if Hangman pissed him off enough and Robbie had a bad enough day, he’d go for it. But it’s not in his nature.” You nodded, satisfied with your own answer, before you hummed. A thoughtful frown scrunched your brows and Bob lifted a hand to hide his smile as you amended, “He’s stronger than he looks, though. He could win, if he wanted.”
The declaration was confident, certain, and Bob felt a small glimmer of something - pride, maybe - burn bright in his chest. There were moments that he doubted himself, moments he wondered what he’d done to deserve you, but you were consistently his biggest fan. There was never a moment you allowed him to doubt for long, always eager to build him up, and he appreciated the ego boost more than you knew.
“Not that I want to know,” Natasha began, “but is he always sweet?”
Natasha’s question saw Bob moving once more, hurrying through the crowd to approach your table. While you were just as happy to keep your relationship relatively quiet as he was, the difference between sobriety and a few drinks - the difference between a conversation with everyone and a conversation with just Natasha - meant that you would happily spill everything.
“Not always,” you answered with a mischievous grin. “There was this one time, right after he got back from that last deployment -“
Before you could continue, words that would certainly change the way Natasha looked at him on the tip of your tongue, Bob approached the table. “Hi, sweetheart.” It was a little too loud, a little too abrupt, and he was certain you could both see the scarlet flush creeping up his neck but neither of you mentioned it.
Natasha smirked at the sight of him so clearly flustered - at both the memory and the potential revelation - while you brightened to an almost blinding grin at the sight of him.
“Robbie,” you cheered, reaching out to pull him close. “I missed you!”
Less than five hours had passed since you last saw one another - he’d dropped you off before heading to Maverick’s - but he had no desire to remind you of that. Instead, he nodded and looped his arm around your shoulders to keep you both steady as yours fell to his waist. “Missed you, too,” he assured you, grinning sheepishly as he met Natasha’s gaze. “Hi, Nat.”
“Hiya, Robbie.” He rolled his eyes at her playful taunt, used to the teasing nickname every time you were around - or even mentioned. “Your girlfriend was just telling me how you’re not always a total sweetheart,” she continued, grinning when he winced. “You interrupted what was bound to be a fantastic story.”
“Mm, it is!” Your eager nod made him laugh as he squeezed your shoulder gently. Before he could encourage a change in topic, however, you urged, “Have a drink with us so I can finish!”
“Who’s gonna get us home, then?” The question was soft, fond, and he resisted the urge to lean in and press a soft kiss to your forehead as you frowned.
“Uber.” You spoke as if that was the most obvious answer - he almost expected a ‘duh’ tacked on at the end, just for effect - but you simply fixed him with a frown.
“Maybe next time, sweetheart,” he soothed, fighting the urge to coo as you deflated. As you huffed, disappointed in his refusal, he turned to Natasha. “Want us to take you home, Nat?”
“Nah, my ride’s here.” Bob turned just in time to catch sight of Natasha’s girlfriend, a woman he’d come to know well as the four of you went out together often, throw her hand up in a quick wave. “G’night, Robbie,” she cooed, grinning as she pinched his cheek and earned herself a fond roll of his eyes. “G’night, babe!” She stood from the table and caught you in a quick hug, squeezing just a little tighter than normal, before heading to meet her girlfriend.
Bob shook his head, entirely amused, before turning his full attention to you. His eyes met yours, already trained on his face, and he couldn’t help but smile as he realized what you wanted. Though PDA wasn’t much - or often - he had no qualms about leaning in and pressing a soft, chaste kiss to your lips.
It was late enough that no one paid either of you any mind, everyone either too far gone to notice anyone outside of their group or on the way out themselves, and you grinned happily when he pulled away. “Take me home, please,” you requested, glancing up at him from beneath your lashes.
With a smile of his own, Bob helped you from your stool - steadied your on your feet as you nearly stumbled with your first step - and held his laughter as you smiled sheepishly. “C’mon,” he encouraged, careful to keep an arm around you as he guided you toward the bar, “let’s settle up so we can get home.”
As you stood, waiting for a bartender to close out your tab, Bob’s fingers tapped against your side. As he did so, you felt compelled to ask, “Do I make you nervous, Robbie?”
Bright eyes, just a touch glassy and beginning to grow heavy-lidded, met his as he glanced at you. “Not anymore, sweetheart.” It was honest, as he always tried to be with you, and earned him a soft coo as you tipped your head. But he couldn’t help wondering, “Why d’you ask?”
“But I did?” When he nodded, barely able to contain soft laughter, you frowned. “Nat said I did. Why? I’m not scary,” you insisted, 
“No, you’re not,” he agreed, smile softening as he reclaimed your card and began guiding you toward the door. “But you were at first.” As you stepped out of the Hard Deck and into the cool night air, Bob spared you a glance and nearly melted at the sight of you waiting patiently for him to continue. “I thought you were gorgeous,” he complimented, “completely out of my league. I figured you would go for someone like Rooster or Hangman. But then you kept talking to me and I had no idea why but I’m glad you did.”
“You know what’s funny?”
Bob hummed, curious, as he helped you into the front seat. “What’s that?” You waited, patient and quiet, for him to round the car and settle into the driver’s seat before you smiled at him.
“You made me nervous, too.”
That was enough to make him pause, hand on the gearshift, as he frowned. The entire time you’d spent getting to know one another, you’d never seemed even remotely nervous. Even as he fumbled his words and felt as if his entire body would remain permanently flushed in your presence, you looked completely at ease. “I did?”
“Mm.”  It was matter of fact, a certain nod before leaning your head against the window and sighing at the cool glass against your heated skin. “I thought you were pretty, too,” you confessed, smile a little shy as Bob’s gaze softened. “And you didn’t really seem like you wanted to talk to me. Know now it’s cause you were shy but I was nervous. I really wanted you to like me.”
“I liked you right away.” Bob felt his entire body soften as you reached for his hand, fingers intertwining with his, and he took the opportunity to lift your hands and press a soft kiss to the back of yours as he stopped at a light. “I was afraid you wouldn’t want me,” he admitted, voice quiet in the silence of the car, “but you did.”
“I always will. You’re kinda perfect, Robbie.”
Bob knew that he wasn’t perfect - he wasn’t even close - but with you smiling at him like that, eyes bright and so sincere, he knew he’d spend the rest of his life trying to be. Regardless of the future you embarked upon, whatever awaited you both down the line, Bob was determined to spend the rest of his life making you happy, however he could.
And as he drove you home, your hand tangled in his even as you began to nod off, he wondered if Penny had ever hosted a wedding reception - or, at the very least, an engagement party - at the Hard Deck. While Bob never imagined the Hard Deck becoming such a massive part of his life, he now found himself thankful for every moment he’d been able to spend there as it all lead him straight to you.
________________________________________________________
Author’s Note: Slowly but surely chipping away at writer’s block. Hangman is likely next. I need to write something that’s not smut and not sad for him. Anyway, I’m knocking out requests so fingers crossed I stay on a roll. Perk of my life falling apart? My writing returns!
Taglist: @lulu-noodles, @holachicos, @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth, @withakindheartx, @ssprayberrythings, @verin93, @totalwitch2, @malindacath, @alexparkxr, @hangmandruigandmav, @alexxavicry, @calicokel, @jaymum, @dracosluvbot, @little-wiseone, @specialk6802, @mandylove1000, @julesclues, @archetypesoflife, @oliviah-25, @benhardysdrumstick, @caatheeriinee07, @yvespoems, @chloereidwayne, @flower-name​, @callsignharper​, @peoniarose​, @hangmanscoming​, @rh3tt​, @dakotakazansky​, @silversprings-mp3​
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andhumanslovedstories · 1 year ago
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sorry if you’ve answered this before, but what made you go into nursing?
In 2016 Donald Trump got elected, which was not what I was expecting to happen and a bit of a disappointment, to put it very very lightly. I was 25 and basically been bumming around my parents' house working as a barista when me and Cyrus weren't traveling and living in a van. We had plans for the future, but they were more "where do we wanna live" rather than "what do you wanna do?" Once he got elected, it didn't feel right sticking to the same plan. I felt I had to do something different with my life, something that mattered and helped people and offset the harm that would come and that had already come.
So I thought about the stuff that I valued most (having a job that helps people, having a concrete positive effect and being able to see it, maintaining access to care, reproductive health, advocating for people who aren't in a position to effectively advocate for themselves, intersectional feminism), and I thought about the stuff that has always interested me intellectually (public health, narratives of caregiving and illness, the history of the AIDS epidemic, people I don't know anything about, how people behave in extraordinary moments, my mom and aunt's nursing stories), and I thought about a bunch of practical concerns (didn't want to take work home with me, good paycheck, good job security, a lot of different uses from one degree, I'd be able to get my nursing degree in an accelerated second degree program for very cheap if I arranged things right*, worst case scenario it would give me something to write about).
It also matters a lot that my mom is a nurse and so fucking passionate about nursing, and that I admire my mom tremendously. Meanwhile my aunt, who I also admire, was an ESL teacher in an underfunded district, and I saw how passionate she was as well, and I saw how much work she took home every night and weekend and how much of her personal money she poured into her work. Seeing the life of teachers up close eliminated teaching as a career course. So nursing made the most sense. I was in community college taking my pre-reqs by the time Trump was sworn into office.
I did home health nursing because that's what I could get hired for as a new grad, and now I do bedside hospital nursing because it pays more, it's easier to get time off, I get to talk to other people, and it gives me a lot of skills I can take to wherever I go to next. I've been a nurse now longer than I was in school to become a nurse, which was one of my most basic career goals, and I have a lovely apartment, and don't worry too much about day-to-day finances, and when I come home from work I'm usually proud of what I've done that day. And best of all, it's literally impossible for me to do my job from home. They can't make me. The patients aren't in my lovely apartment. On the whole, I'm very satisfied with how all this has been working out.
(*I'm very sorry to say the circumstances which allowed me to do this are basically unrepeatable for the layperson and rely heavily on your mother being a nursing school instructor, and your family being willing and able to support you as you completely cease making money so you can become a legal dependent again and be eligible for your parent's tuition reimbursement. I can offer no advice here, just gratitude to my parents for helping me out so much.)
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sawtastic-sideblog · 1 year ago
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Specs x Reader Gender Neutral Reader TW: violence, blood, mentions of death and school shooters, there may be more I have forgotten to mention so just a general proceed with caution.
"I'm looking for Sebastian Parker. Sebastian are you with us?" The psychic, Elise, calls to the room. You roll your eyes, not so subtly, and catch the eye of the bearded camera man, Tucker. He shakes his head and looks back at his screen as he continues to walk around the group of six gathered in a circle in your dining room.
Your older brother, Sebastian, died two years ago and your mom, Alice, hasn't been the same since. None of you have, but your mom seemed to be taking it the hardest. Sebastian was thirteen years older than you and from a previous relationship your mom had. Your dad, Patrick, always said Sebastian was his son. They were close. The year Sebastian turned eighteen, he went to your dad and asked him to be adopted. Your dad agreed, enthusiastically and cried hugging Sebastian and just repeating 'my son' over and over again. The night Sebastian died, your dad stood in his hospital room, stroking his head, repeating those words over and over again.
Your little sister, Olivia, sat across from you. She and Sebastian also had a good relationship. With a twenty one year gap between the two, Livvy and Sebastian were the closest. You alway envied their relationship. Sebastian was smart and loved to help Livvy with her homework. He was an English teacher at the local high school. Livvy would visit him in his class and would help him with presentations and fun stuff he'd do with his classes. You would help with costumes and behind the scenes stuff. Livvy and Sebastian belonged on stage together. Since his death, Livvy hasn't been as involved with the school's theater program, but still auditions and does the plays. "For Sebby," she says.
You and Sebastian were close, but only after he moved out. When you were born, he was a stubborn teenager who didn't want the attention of his mother and the only stable father figure he'd ever known taken away from him. He didn't want his weekends taken by some brat he'd have to watch, which was seldom if at all. After he moved out, you got sick with pneumonia and almost died in the hospital. He realized how much he cared for you and drove eighteen hours back from college to be with you. He transferred closer to be with the family and would let you stay at his apartment when your mom had bad days. Her pregnancy with Olivia was not an easy one. You and Sebastian grew close and went to all thr new movies, sport games, and community events together and with his friends. You were even the flower girl at Sebastian's best friend's wedding when you were twelve.
Your mom has Sebastian at fifteen and was a single mom until she met your dad. She struggled to get by and from a young age, Sebastian realized that they didn't have much and he would do odd jobs for people of the community. When your dad came to town, wanting a fresh start away from toxic parents and a crazy ex, Sebastian askedif he needed ay help with boxes "for a price." Your dad agreed and later met your mom. Your dad would always ask Sebastian to "help" with leaky faucets, painting walls, and working on cars. His job was to sit and make sure your dad was doing everything safely. Eventually your parents started dating and got married two years later. Your dad helped put her through nursing school and she has loved every second of her job. After being a single mom and her child, relying on each other, and practically growing up together, your mom and Sebastian were best friends. Losing him broke her. She stayed in bed for months. One day she was back to her normal self, making pancakes for everyone.
"What's this, honey? It's after ten at night?" Your dad asked, putting his keys in thr bowl by the door as you and Livvy put your coats on h hooks.
"Is it? Oh, well, I've been so busy. I guess I lost track of time," she replied with a smile on her face.
"What have you been doing?"
"I cleaned the whole house. Where have you been?"
"Work, school, dinner, and Livvy's play. Why are you cleaning the whole house? We did that this past weekend."
"Sebastian's coming home."
With that statement, all three hearts broke.
"Hey mom, it's late, let's get you to bed," you say and try to lead your mom to her room. After a little resistance you an your father manager to get your mom into bed. After that your mom kept insisting Sebastian would be coming home and recently she's started trying to contact him. Weird things started happening andit scared Olivia to the point she was always over at your apartment.
Last week, your dad woke up with scratches down his back. You immediately started looking for help and tracked down Elise. You arranged to meet at your parent's house tonight and Elise decided a seance would be the best course of action. You, being a skeptic, scoffed at her.
"There's no such things as ghosts."
"Ghosts, spirits, demons, they all exist, (Y/N), and we're the ones who are going to help you rid yourselves of them."
"No offense, Elise, but this is crazy."
"Sometimes crazy works."
So, now, you're in the dining room of your childhood home, having a seance to contact your dead brother. Still convinced that this is crazy, you look around the circle. You can't read your dad's face, but your mom has a look of hope, Livvy looks scared, Elise has a look of intense concentration, and her assistant, Spec, is writing at lightning speed as Elie speaks.
"Sebatian Parker. Follow the sound of my voice."
You scoff and try to coverit with a cough, but Tucker and Specs both give you looks. You put your gaze forward and close your eyes just as something grabs your chair and pulls it backwards. You let out a startled scream. You're lifted off the ground and feel your throat burn as if someone is choking you, but there is nobody there. You cough, gag, and sputter as Livvy watches in frozen horror, your mom stands with her hands over her mouth.
"Patrick, do something," she calls as she grips Livvy's arm tight. He leaps into action and tries to pull you off the wall. He's thrown across the room into Tucker and they both go down. Specs leaps from his seat and starts to rush toward you, but is thrown back into the China cabinet. The glass shatters and rains down around Spec's limp body. You try to scream, but nothing comes out.
Tucker sits up slowly. Once he's checked back into what's happening, he grabs his camera and springs to his feet, pointing the camera around the room.
"I command you to leave this family alone!"
You fall to the floor and take in a big gulp of air. Elise and her entire chair are tipped backwards and an invisible force starts to choke her. You mother and sister scream in terror and run to the corner and huddle together. Your dad sits up and watches, beary eyes and confused. You realize the danger Elise is in, so you run to the kitchen for salt and then the living room for an iron fire poking stick.
Hoping for the best, you swing the stick above Elise and she takes in a breath. You make a big circle out of the salt.
"Everyone in the ring! Don't mess it up!" You shout. Everyone does as they're told, except for Specs, who is still out.
"Steven! Steven, please, wake up!" Elise pleads. Specs' limp, bloody, body is dragged across the floor, up the wall, and is pinned to the ceiling. You all start shouting for him to wake up. He does and immediately starts to panic. He's thrown against the far wall and falls to the floor.
With every ounce of courage you have, you jump the salt line and swing the poking stick wildly as you run to Specs. You try to help him up, but you can't swing and lift at the same time. Luckily, Tucker followed you and lifts his friend up and over his shoulder. The three of you make your way back to the circle where Tucker sets Specs down. The China cabinet shakes and the broken glass rattles.
"Leave them alone!" Elise yells. A chair raises behind Elise. It charged forward and you shove her out of the way just in time for it to hit you in the face.
You open your eyes and it's the dining room, but darker. You look around and see misty figures. It's your parents, sister, Elise, and her two assistants.
"(Y/N)!" A voice calls, far in the distance. You stand up and walk through the house. The voice continues to call for you. You climb the stairs and walk to Sebastian's room. You open the door to be met with a lady in a black wedding dress. Her hands reach for your throat, but something shoves her aside. Sebastian stands in her place and grabs your hand. Together, you two run down the stairs and out of the house.
"The garage," you say as the two of you reach the lawn. The lady in black appears in the doorway of the house. Sebastian looks for the spare key and fumbles it into the lock.
"What now?" Sebastian asks as he locks the door behind him.
"Remember when I was a kid and you were in college you showed me how to make a flame thrower?"
"With the aerosol spray can and a lighter? Yeah, but what are you going to do?"
"Burn her," you say with determination as you grab cans of spray paint off a shelf. Sebastian grabs the lighters from a drawer and tosses you one. Sebatian unlocks the door as you hide. As the lady enters, Sebastian sends flames in her direction. She tries to back up, but you step out of your hiding spot and spark up your makeshift flamethrower. She vanishes and you both put out your flames. You look at each other and laugh. Sebastian holds his arms out for a hug, which you gladly accept.
"We miss you, you know?"
"I know. I've been watching. Mom kept talking to me. I heard her, but the lady in black wouldn't let me communicate."
"Well, now you can."
"No, Cesario, I don't think I can."
You smile almost melancholic at the nickname. You read Twelfth Night when you were in your first semester of college and hated it. You can't understand Shakespeare to save your life. You decided to watch it instead and you developed a crush on Johnny Young, the guy that was playing Viola/Cesario in the production. Since then, Sebastian has called you Cesario as a joke. You miss that.
Elise smiles warmly as you come into view, holding Sebastian close to your side. You look down to where your father is holding your head in his lap, your mom is crying into your chest, and your sister is staring at you, fear etched on her delicate features.
"Hello, Sebastian. (Y/N)," Elise greets. Everyone looks to the direction Elise is looking.
"Where are we?" You ask.
"I call it The Further."
"Is it the afterlife?"
"Something like that, I suppose. I know seeing your brother again has been good for you, but you need to get back into your body," Elise says. You nod in understanding as dark figures shift in the shadows. You turn towards Sebastian and grab his hands.
"I love you, Seb. I miss you every single day. Nothing will ever change that. I wish I was there to stop the shooter from getting to you, but you were a hero. All the kids were fine. Physically anyway. Emotionally they're all traumatized," you say, tears cascading down your cheeks. Sebastian chuckles at your last statement and wipes the tears away.
"I'm glad they're relatively okay. I love you, too. Make sure mom, dad, and Liv know I love them as well?" Sebastian asks. You nod and give him one last hug before walking to your body. There's a flash of light that engulfs you.
Your eyes flutter open to see your family hovering over you. You sit up an hug your mom.
"He loves you guys," you say into your mom's shoulder. "He saved me too. He pushed the woman in black away and he taught me how to make a flamethrower."
"You did that when you were little. You burned down my rose bush," your dad says through his tears.
"We used them on the lady in black."
"Makes sense to me," Olivia says hugging you.
"My son," your dad whispers as his arms wrap around you.
A little while later, you walk into th bathroom to find a shirtless Specs picking glass from his back. Ot at last attempting to.
"Need some help?" You ask. The man jumps and turns to you. He sheepishly nods ans his cheeks turn red. You take the tweezers from him and start pulling small glass shards from his back. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," he says with a laugh, "I've had worse. Actually, no, not really, this is probably the worst."
"Well, a ghost threw you into a China cabinet, so I'm not surprised."
"Still a skeptic?"
"No, but I know not to mess with that stuff."
"Smart cookie, you are. Ow."
"Sorry," you say before chuckling. "I don't think I've ever hears a more pitiful 'ow' in my life."
"I don't see a point in screaming. It won't do any good."
"Could be quite pleasurable. Let me know I'm doing a good job," you joke. Specs turns around to face you.
"Is that an invitation, (Y/N)?" He asks quietly. He moves to your ear and whispers "because I may have to take you up on that."
Your breath catches for a moment before you make Specs turn back around. Your cheeks heat up as you start pulling glass from the taller man's shoulder blade.
"In your dreams."
"I can't wait."
You take the next twenty minutes or so to pull glass from his back. When you're certain you got it all, you leave Specs to clean up. Your mom provided towels and your father and sister ran down to the twenty four hour gas station to get bandages and pain killers. Tuck walks over with an ice pack wrapped in a towel and presses it gently to your head.
"He likes you. He's been talking about you since we met last week. He wanted to ask you on a date, but doesn't know how to ask. Or when to ask. Obviously, he couldn't during all of this mess," Tucker gestures vaguely around at the mess of shatter glass, a splintered chair, and blood.
"Well, he was right in that aspect," you say.
"You should've heard him the day we met," He says before pitching his voice up to mimic his friend. "Tuck, did you see (Y/N)? Do you think they'd say yes if I asked them out? They had th prettiest eyes I've-"
Tucker is cut off by the bathroom door opening and Specs walking out. Shock, hurt, and embarrassment on his. He opens his mouth to say something before shoving past you and Tucker.
"I think you messed up, there, buddy," you say as Tucker just nods and walks into the bathroom with the towels your mom gave him and his spare clothes.
"He'll get over it," he called as he closed the door. Feeling bad for Specs, you go to look for him and find him on the back porch steps. You grab a blanket from thr back of the couch and walk outside. You wrap the blanket around his shoulders. He flinched from the sudden coverage on his back.
"It's too cold for you to be out here shirtless and with wet hair."
"So?"
"So? So, you'll get sick and miss our date."
He turns his head so fast he almost gives himself whiplash. You give him a soft smile and he smiles back. His face turns serious as he looks back across the yard at the old swing and play fort. He stands and hold out his hand. You take it and you both walk across the yard. Specs climbs into the fort and turns back to you with a goofy smile. You follow him up and you both sit facing the house where you see your mom and Elise talking.
"How did your brother die?"
"Some kid decided that if he couldn't have his ex girlfriend, nobody could. She was in Sebastian's class and one of the other teachers warned him and told him who it was. His class hid the girl behind a bookshelf and when the kid tried to come in and found the door locked, he shot through the doorknob and walked in. Seb stood up for the class. He blocked the kid from them. The kid kept threatening him, but Seb held his ground. The police came in at about that time and it scared the kid and he pulled the trigger. He claimed it was an accident. He went in with thr intention to kill someone. There was no accident. Seb was rushed to the hospital and died three days later. He was a hero. At graduation that year, all the students gave my mom a single red rose. The ones in his class that day gave my mom these folders full of letters written from themselves, their friends, and their families. They gave us some good memories to look back on and kind words of support and encouragement. It was sweet."
Specs' thumb wipes a tear from your cheek. He pulls you into his side for a hug, which you gratefully accept and return. The sliding glass door opens.
"Hey, we got stuff for Specs," Livvy's voice carries through the night. Specs let's you go and turns to slide down the slide. You follow him again and you walk to the house. Specs takes a seat backwards in a chair. He winces as your mom takes the blanket off his shoulders, the fibers from the fluffy blanket sticking to the fluid oozing from the wounds.
"You okay?" You ask, concerned. Specs nods and rests his forehead on the back of the chair. Livvy pulls you to the side to start cleaning up. Tucker and your dad pick up thr cabinet as you sweep the glass and Livvy picks up the broken chair.
"Can't belive (Y/N) broke this with their head," Livvy laughs.
"Yeah, and they've got a pretty good bruise to show for it," your dad replies.
"It's not that bad is it?" You ask as you sweep the glass into the dustpan.
"Well, it's not great," Livvy says. You set the broom and dustpan aside and make your way to the bathroom. You're looking at your forehead when the door opens.
"We've got to stop meeting like this," Specs jokes. You smile as you make eye contact in the mirror.
"You alright?"
"Are you? You have a bruise on your head. You should be checked for a concussion," he says. You turn toward him and he grabs both sides of your head. He places a gentle kiss on your forehead.
"I like your shirt," you say, pulling at his Star Wars t-shirt.
"Star Wars fan?"
"Nope. Never seen a single movie."
"Okay, well, that's what we will be doing for our date."
"Watching Star Wars?"
"Yes."
"Okay."
Specs leans closer to you and you loom up at him. Your eyes flutter closed. You can feel his breath fan over your face. A knock sounds at the door, breaking you two apart.
"(Y/N), you in there?" Your mom's voice calls. "I want to look at your head, darling."
"Yeah, mom. I'm in here," you answer. You barely open the door and slip through. Your mom checks you over and you agree to go to the hospital.
You and your dad walk out with Elise, Tucker, and Specs. You manage to pull Specs behind a tree as your dad and Elise talk and Tucker loads the van.
"Give me your phone," you say, holding out your hand. He does so and you put your number in. You two talk a few more minutes.
"Specs, let's go," Tucker yells at the tree. You bid him goodbye and he starts to walk away. You and your father walk to the car. Before Tucker can drive away the side door of the van opens. Specs jogs across the yard to you, spins you around, and crashes his lips into yours. You kiss him back just as he pulls away.
"See you Saturday," he smiles and pecks your lips one more time before running back to the van. You watch the van drive down the street as the sun begins to rise.
"Got yourself a boyfriend, huh, (Y/N)," your dad teases.
"Shut up," you say as you get into the car.
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theworldoffostering · 11 months ago
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The director of special education did not show up to our IEP this week. It made the meeting a whole lot less contentious. It didn’t hurt that they assigned a much more experienced teacher to DS and our advocate showed up and kept everyone in line. Should it take that much work/effort/stress? Absolutely not! I will never understand how anyone is getting services if we cannot with all of the privileges we have personally been afforded.
DH and I talked to Ms. 6 this week. It could be worse, but it’s not great. She bought herself a car or someone else did, but it seems no one cares if she has insurance (legally required). I told her to call and get some quotes. She has not.
She has a boyfriend she met online that no one has vetted. He’s older (no idea how much older) as he has his own place. He lives three hours away in a neighboring state, but Ms. 6 couldn’t remember which city he lives in. She goes to see him on the weekends despite the fact that no one has met him or vetted him. It’s killing me! She was very vague on the details regarding what he does for a living.
Her car seems some basic repairs. Her grandpa has been a semi truck driver for decades. Hasn’t helped her with the repairs. Boyfriend is maybe some kind of mechanic but is unable to help with repairs. Mom is driving Ms. 6’s uninsured car and teaching Ms. 6 how to do donuts in it.
Ms. 6 said she applied to a PA program. When I pointed out that the PA program she applied for is a masters program (aren’t they all?) that cost $109k for the 28 month program, she seemed shocked and unimpressed. I did do a conference call with her and the high school this week to try to sort out her graduation.
Ms. 6 had knee surgery last week. I offered to be available and make the three hour drive to take her. She said her mom was taking her. The night before surgery her mom said she had to work and couldn’t take her. Grandma said she couldn’t take her because she had already take a sick day that week. Mom’s BF drove her, but apparently doesn’t like hospitals so he didn’t sit in the room and wait for Ms. 6 to be taken back to surgery. Surgery was pushed back several hours. Now mom doesn’t want to take her to the post-op appointment because the dogs have a vet appointment.
Post surgery, Ms. 6 was prescribed narcotics. Mom is an addict. Is she currently using? I have no idea but she used for at least a decade and has a conviction for cooking meth with the intent to sell. Kids were removed for many reasons including heroin use. Ms. 6 said the “oxy” isn’t managing her pain so she asked the nurse for something else AND an oxy refill. The pharmacist wouldn’t give both to mom. Mom told Ms. 6 it’s because they don’t have the same last name. I pointed out that I also don’t share the same last name as anyone in our family, and we were also recently denied a narcotic at the pharmacy. It is clear that no one that she has contact with lives in their thinking brains—they are all convinced that they are victims of one system or another.
Ms. 6 also quit her job. She said it was because they were making her do too much work.
Ms. 6 really wants contact with the other kids, particularly NB at this point. We have withheld that so far but can’t really articulate why. I think because it doesn’t feel healthy or good, and things don’t necessarily feel stable with her between DH and myself and her. I’ve talked to her a handful of times in the past month which are the first times I’ve spoken to her since she left in August. Anyone have experience in this area? Is it wrong for us to feel it out as parents before we open that relationship back up to siblings? It’s not my intention to use them as pawns, but it probably feels that way to Ms. 6. The kids here have not asked to see her, and DS and DD are actively continuing to say that they don’t want to have contact.
I’m trying to be something for her but that all feels very temporary and complicated right now. I sent her a small care package today via mail and am going to offer up some services for her like connecting her with colleges, but am trying to hold tight to a lot of boundaries at this point.
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secretlythepits · 5 months ago
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This or That? Cancer Edition
My husband has a pain in his side when his rib moves when he breathes. It’s been growing increasingly painful and catching his attention.
Is it one of his lung nodules? Is the cancer in his bones spreading?
Or
Is it the pain from what I like to call: acting the damned fool.
His hobby/stress reliever is manual labor so last weekend he rebuilt or deck steps. He could have pulled something doing or bruised his rib doing that.
Fortunately he has a chest CT scheduled for tomorrow, but it’s so weird and scary. We are just humming along and then get these panics. My heart dropped when he mentioned going to the hospital to figure it out yesterday. Like, what? Are we there? Right now? So fast? Out of the blue?
I told him to call the oncology nurse first. There isn’t anything to be done because he is already going to get a scan. That will provide the answers.
In other news, it’s the first day of school which is a really big deal when you’ve been homeschooling for 7 years. I had butterflies last night. My son started a duel enrollment aviation program. He’s been passionate about airplanes for 5 years so likely this is the first day of starting his career.
MOTHERTRUCKER!
The oncologist just called. Wants to see him tomorrow right after his scans. Oh my God! Can we not just have a first day of school celebration? I need more normal time.
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pixeldistractions · 10 months ago
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Grad school is happening at Magnolia Graduate College.
Leading our group is Dr. Heather Thompson, Dean of Students. She specializes in biology. (Hi, Ingrid’s mom!)
Our students this year:
Andre, Calvin, and Steven are all working on their medical degrees, and Amy is doing her nursing clinicals.
The others are non-medical graduate programs. Justin (architecture) and Natty, (teaching).
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Justin may be a workaholic, but he’s still a geek. He’s studying on nights and weekends while maintaining his home renovation business and blogs, and being a newlywed husband and father of three. Overachieving much? That’s nothing new for Justin, the workaholic that he is. Workaholic except for when the video games are calling him.
— from “postcards from grad school” (1/4)
some gameplay notes on grad school:
The way I’m doing university in my game is that nobody is allowed to do a distinguished degree until they’ve completed a regular degree first. Regular degrees are undergraduate programs where my sims will usually reach level 3-6 in their core skills, while distinguished degrees are considered graduate programs and they are expected to reach levels 6-10. 
I play all three of my own colleges and all of my students are living “at home” in residential lots, so it doesn’t matter which in-game college they attend. So, for undergraduate students, it sometimes requires picking the “wrong” college so that it won’t be a distinguished degree. 
Because I only have one grad school for everyone to attend, I’m not too picky about travel distances being realistic. Many of them are commuters. The med school students need to be residents, but Justin lives in Michigan, and Natty is in Nevada, and Amy is in Washington DC. Considering most of these grad students are in their mid-late twenties, some will be even older, they would have families, jobs, or serious relationships at home. Since this grad school is their only option, I won’t make them spend long times away from their life to go here. They will do most of the semester from home, then commute to campus for a couple of days to take their exams. 
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dolivia · 1 year ago
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Our LPN programs and night and weekend nursing courses are divided into several modules that make it simple for our nursing students to learn and understand the topics and even interconnected subjects.
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never-not-ever · 2 months ago
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Said I was going to wait til tomorrow (day 3) to type up and post today's "day 2" but I figured I'd get it out of the way and before I start to forget any more.
It's a little after midnight and I need to take my trazodone tonight so I can actually sleep through the night but I also really want to watch some Will & Grace cause I miss those funny idiots.
I already just want to be silent for my team meeting tomorrow. Like there's no point in arguing back and forth. So next best thing, "kill em with kindness" comes to mind but I don't think that fits. My plan is to go into the meeting all "I'm fine, it's fine, everything is fine", "yes" them to death, not say much, seem smiley and chipper. I might even wake up earlyish, shower and make coffee so I "feel my best" which will be a lie but at least my hair will be clean for the first time in days and I'll have some decent coffee which I actually am looking forward to now cause I bought a Torani brown sugar cinnamon syrup. Hmmm tomorrow morning is seeming more promising. Minus the meeting. Which I'm hoping can be quick and done for. Then we'll have the glorious weekend and we'll see how shitty things get and continue the dejavu of Monday morning scaries for team meetings lmao
Also there's supposedly pet therapy tomorrow????? Which I complained about the lack of for 10 months to the nursing director guy and he'd talk about his dog and how he'd being them but they weren't always that friendly.
I remember 8 years ago this unit had a huge pet therapy program. There were two pomeranians, a huge black fluffy dog and a cat named Tuna! I loved that name.
I think I'm going to go on the walk tomorrow at 2 and get more soda at the cafe since I ordered the wrong one with my groceries. Like I want tomorrow to be as smooth and seemingly fine as possible.
My fav nurse who went to nights came in earlier and didn't say hi and of course I took it to heart (is that the phrase)?. So when I took my meds just now I was like "you didn't say hi earlier" and she said she was in her head. Then we chatted a little bit while she got my meds and that was that.
I thought I was going to be able to go to my room right now and watch Will & Grace but my god I'm about to pass out. Like I was already feeling a little sleepy and now this is just speeding it up. I'm sure to sleep through the night cause I haven't taken it in a while and it always hits me harder the first time I start it up again.
Ending this now before I type up another essay. One could say this is already one.
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roadtogracelandx45 · 8 months ago
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Courage Under Fire| Pre-War Part 10| Band of Brothers
masterlist
part 9
ao3
wattpad
@marycorleone
word count-3,909
The next chapter we are finally getting into the good stuff. And I am o excited for it.
Pre-War part 10
June- August 1942 
Columbia, Georgia 
Dick Winters rarely left Fort Benning on weekend passes, like Lewis and the others who went out on most passes to Columbia. A  lot of the time Olivia Stewart, the now head nurse, went with them, mostly to keep them in line. 
And them being Lewis Nixon, the man who occupied his mind more and more of his mind, he didn’t quite understand why he was feeling this pull to this man but he was and he figured he might as well go with them this time around so Olivia could enjoy her promotion without having to babysit Lewis or the others. 
“Holy crow.’ Olivia’s voice shook him out of his thoughts, she had walked up behind him and offered him a smile, “Is Dick Winters actually joining us for a night out?”
 “I figured that you needed a night off of wrangling Nix to enjoy yourself and your promotion.” He returned, his eyes crinkling at the corners when her face lit up. She had tried to play it off the night before he and Lewis caught up to her after dinner like it was nothing but it was something big for her.  Especially after she lost her brothers, and had to meet South Carolina’s district attorney about her mother’s case. A meeting he and Lewis had the pleasure of sitting in on. 
 “You have no idea.” she admitted softly, “Amber is driving me up the wall too, she hates that I got the promotion and she didn’t. And if anything else happens. We get the ax and are out of the program.”  He nodded his head, he and Lewis had been there and heard it, and at first, it didn’t stop the others who missed Olivia breaking Amber’s nose from trying to provoke another fight between them.  
Dick and Lewis had been able to break up a lot of the time; it had gotten easier when Hill had dropped out after failing the map reading tests, allowing Olivia to be in the three-man barracks. At first, it had made Dick wildly uncomfortable but he understood.  
“Olivia, how did you get Dick out of his hiding place?” One of the other men asked as he and his buddy passed, they were all heading towards the same place, a rickety bus stop but like always Olivia waited for Lewis to come out of the barracks. 
“Darlin’, I have my ways.” She returned, offering a teasing smile. 
‘Oh, we have heard of your ways sweetheart.” 
“What ways would that be?” Lewis asked joining the two. Over the short 10 weeks they had been there, Lewis had gotten a reputation of being Olivia’s fiercest protector and the other men learned not to mess with her. Dick was steps behind him. 
“She puts out on top of her family name. And that's how she gets ahead.’ 
“Pardon me?” “Repeat that?” Both Dick and Lewis questioned, while the woman in question grabbed a hold of Lewis’s arm to keep him by her. Dick always seemed to keep this cool the best so she didn’t have to worry about him like she did with Lewis.  
“Where did you hear that?”  When the man didn’t answer, Lewis took steps toward him threateningly only to be stopped by both Olivia and Dick. “Let me guess, Amber Scott said something,” Olivia commented.  
Adam, the man, nodded his head causing her to scoff and raise her eyes to the sky as if she was trying to gather strength not to go back and get into it with Amber.  
“That is such bullshit,” Lewis complained as Dick shook his head and muttered something about language under his breath. “If anything, she is the one that is sleeping around.” 
“What?!” Olivia was floored, this was the first she was hearing of this and normally, Lewis told her everything.  
“We will talk about it later, love.” He said, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye causing her to frown and cross her arms, “We better.” 
“You can’t blame the rumors can you?” Adam’s friend, Kenneth asked, “Especially after she was moved into your barracks. Amber said that.’ He fell quiet when his eyes fell on Olivia. “What did she say?” He shook his head embarrassed, sex talk was normal between him and the boys but bringing it up in front of the ladies. 
Especially one as classy as Olivia Stewart.
 “Kenneth, what did she say?” Olivia’s question came out a little more firm than she meant but she needed to know.  
On Dick’s urging as well as Harding’s, she had started keeping track of what Amber was doing just in case she had ever proved her innocence. 
“That you were having sex with both of them.”  He finally answered, unable to bring himself to look at any of them. ‘At the same time.” Adam added when he saw the look of confusion on the girl’s face.  
“What? How does that work?” She questioned as Lewis took a step back to her and whispered into her ear what he meant by that.  Her face turned a brilliant shade of red that matched the color of Dick’s hair and it caused him to smirk, the last few nights he had been imagining the three of them together. But he wasn’t going to throw that out there and embarrass the other two. 
Both Dick and Olivia were innocent and pure to the point that corrupting them seemed like a sin. A sin he was willing to go to hell for. 
‘Never mind. I don’t want to know,’ She stammered, raising her hands to cover her burning cheeks.  “I will explain about that later too.”  He whispered before pressing a kiss to her cheek and leading her toward the bus stop where the rickety bus was waiting to take them into town. 
Dick followed behind them shaking his head in disbelief.
**
“Come on Dick,” Olivia said, holding her hand out to him a while later, they were at a local bar that played music and had a space for dancing. “Oh no, Liv.” He started. 
‘Aw, Dick, don’t ruin her fun.” Lewis returned as he sat down heavily in the chair next to him, his hand pulling the bottle of Vat .69 to him, forehead beaded with sweat and his tie loosened, “You are the one that wanted to enjoy herself. And I haven’t seen her smile like that in a long time.” 
 It was true, the smile that she had was the truest, brightest, and happiest smile he had seen since she opened the front door and saw him standing there before her debutante ball. “One dance is all I ask for.” She held up a finger and Dick felt his shoulder slump in defeat, he could understand why Lewis and most other men in her life had a hard time saying no to her. 
 “Fine. One dance.” He agreed, taking her outstretched hand. Thankful that it was a slower song and not one of the fast-paced ones that they had been playing before. 
“Are you sure you are okay with that?” Amber’s snotty voice asked from behind him, her dark eyes were on the two. 
“Why wouldn’t I be?” He returned swallowing some of the Vat .69, “Olivia and I are just friends. I have no claim on her.”
 He was thankful that Olivia had gone with a brown dress that covered her lower neck and most of her collarbone; he had left marks and bites there the night before when he snuck into her shower. 
 It had been over a month since they had been together and he was going a little stir crazy. Thankfully Dick hadn’t said anything when he came back into the room, his hair still damp from the shower or Olivia wearing her hair down around her shoulders.  
“You know we don’t believe that.” She retorted, “She has you wrapped around her little finger and we all know it.” 
“Miss. Scott mind your own business. You are already on thin ice. One more transgression and you are out of the Army Nursing Corp for good. And your daddy’s gambling debts go unpaid.” 
Amber was stunned, “how did you know about that?’ 
“I have my ways, sweetheart. Spread any more rumors about me and Olivia or her in general and you are going to be very sorry.”   
“Why, why would you do that to me?” 
 “Because you are hurting someone I love. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for that girl.” He tore his eyes away from the two on the dance floor to look at her, a twisted smirk forming on his mouth, “Just be thankful, she doesn’t know about you trying to sleep with me. You think she was upset by you bringing her family into this. I am a whole other story.” 
 “Lew! Come on!’ Olivia’s voice called, pulling his attention back to her and Dick. Dick had succeeded in getting her to agree to go back on the first bus back so she and Lewis could both sleep off whatever hangover they had before their final tests. 
“Comin’ Liv.” He downed the rest of the whiskey in his glass before picking the bottle up and going over to the two. 
“What was that about?” Olivia’s green eyes cut to where Amber was moving her lips silently. 
“Don’t worry about it, baby. I handled it.’  
“I don’t like the sound of that at all.” He pressed a sloppy kiss to her cheek before stumbling into the street. 
**
Dick didn’t know how Olivia did this every time they had a pass. He was exhausted by the time he had wrangled both of them on and off of the bus and towards their barracks. Lewis was holding his own being able to walk and do things on his own while Olivia who he hadn’t realized had drank a lot more of Lewis’ Vat .69, after much coaxing from Lewis, was singing Dixieland and twirling herself around in the rain that had started between the time they got onto the bus and the time the bus driver who took pity on Dick and pulled closer to Fort Benning. 
“Good luck.’ The driver had said with a dry laugh. Dick didn’t realize how much he was going to need it until that moment. The laughter coming from Olivia was infectious, Lewis was snickering and mumbling something about wishing he had a video camera, and even Dick wanted to laugh. But until he got them safely to their barracks, he couldn't. 
** 
Lewis pulled her to him once they were in the barracks, Dick saying something about going down to the water spout and getting them water for the rest of the night. “Lew? What are you doing? Dick is going to be back soon.” 
“So?” He returned, his fingers working on undoing the buttons of her dress.
 “So I thought we decided it was best that no one knows about us.” Her fingers caught his belt and pulled him closer to her. His cock was already starting to harden and press against the trousers 
“Dick isn't just anyone.”  He muttered as his free hand fisted into the material of the dress before lowering his mouth onto hers. 
Kissing her breathless. He knew that she would question him and try and understand but at that moment, all he wanted and needed was her. 
“Make it quick then.” her voice was faint and there was a pink blush covering her cheeks. He smirked against her mouth and backed them towards the chair that Olivia used, he wanted to be quick about it but at the same time, the thought of Dick catching them thrilled him almost as much as doing the actual deed did. 
This was the first time they had done anything that wasn't from the side or him being on top of her and she was unsure what to do. Sensing her uneasiness Lewis wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled onto his lap. She whimpered, feeling his cock pressing against her panty-clad center. His free hand started undoing the buttons of her dress so he could slip his hand inside and touch and squeeze her breast. 
“Lew.” she whimpered as he used the hand holding onto her waist to rock against him.
** 
Dick moved Olivia’s canteen into his arm so he could pull open the door to the barracks and froze when he saw the position they were in through the window.  Yes, he hadn't been completely blind to what they did under his nose, one night when he came back from guard duty, she was in Lewis’ bed cuddled into him.
He just chalked it up to her having repeated nightmares from losing James and Nicholas and he knew the night before when Lewis had wandered off and ended up in the shower with her.  A part of him, deep down, was jealous. Not of Olivia. 
No. 
She was a very beautiful young woman. 
It was because she was with Lewis.  
Startled at the realization, he took a step back and took a breath before pulling the door open and letting it bang against the wall. 
‘Son of a bitch.” Olivia exclaimed, going to pull the top of her dress back together and stand up at the same time but Lewis who pulled her tight against him again rolling his hips into hers. 
“Lew, stop.” She whimpered, dropping her forehead onto his shoulder. She could feel the burn of Dick's eyes on them as the man himself neared their beds and dropped the canteens on the end of her bed. Sue glanced at Lewis and saw that his eyes were on Dick.
  “Lew, let me up. I'm sure he isn't going to faint dead away at the site of your,”
 “Cock.” Lewis filled in smirking at first the blush that covered Olivia's cheeks then at the scowl on Dick's face. 
He winced when she pinched his nipple, “Behave Lewis. I meant your lap. ”  He pressed a kiss to her mouth and let her off of his lap. 
“I am, um gonna clean up.” She swayed a bit and steadied herself just as Dick was reaching out for her. 
“I am good, I am good.” She assured him, “Take care of him.” 
 “Always.” As soon as the word left his mouth, he regretted it. “I know.” She returned as she gathered her items to go to clean up and get ready for bed, she paused next to him and pressed a kiss against his cheek. 
 “You are so lucky that it was me that came in and not Harding or Sanders.”  Still smirking, Lewis stood up and straightened his pants out, “Harding was more drunk than we are, and Sanders is probably face down in some dame’s chest right about now. Don’t worry so much Dick.” 
**
 Camp Meade, Maryland
**
“Welcome to Camp Meade, Ladies,” Olivia said almost 3 weeks later, Alice, Betsy, and Amber had graduated OCS and left Benning on the second of July and were sent right from there to Maryland. Spending the Fourth of July with Olivia’s uncle Micheal and Aunt Helen in DC for a short break before going back to the camp. “I am First Lieutenant Olivia Stewart.” Her green eyes flicked over the girls who were standing in front of her as she walked down the length of the mess hall, “And sadly, for the next few weeks, I am going to be your worst nightmare. ” She paused when she saw Evie standing at the end of the row, she turned on her heel and went back down the row, the anger and hurt she had felt toward Evie resurfaced, her eyes caught Alice’s and she raised her eyebrow in question. 
“I, along with Sargents Anderson, Michaels, and Scott, were informed before we came here from Benning that they are going to be training us to go into active war areas.”  “What?” “She can’t be serious.” Floated around the room. “Sadly, I am very serious. Our training was going to take a lot longer but this is going to be accelerated and it is going to be stressful.” She licked her lips and put her hands on her hips, “Most of us will be shipped to Pearl Harbor and from there to other military hospitals near or in the active war zone.’  
She hated that she had to be the one to say that but to them, she had been tapped at Micheal’s house and told that she had to be the leader. 
“Some of us will go to other camps that are doing basic training and will be attached to the battalion if not companies and we will follow them to wherever they go either it be Europe, Africa, Australia, or New Zealand. I don’t want to be that person, but this is what we signed up for. If you are too afraid and this isn’t what you think we should be doing, then there's the door. No one will hold it against you if you do.” 
Amber, who had been silent since they had left Meade and Lewis’ threat, swallowed back the laughter that was bubbling up. There would be so much judgment. The three girls had become a little clique and left her out of things. She had wanted it that way, but she wouldn’t be remiss to say that she hated that she was missing out.  After meeting Michael Stewart and his younger sister Careen, she understood where Liv got her charm from and she shouldn't really fault her for it but at the same time, she still hated her. 
When no one made to move towards the door, Olivia wetted her hips, “We are going to break you into groups, half will be with me, and the other half will be with Lieutenant Jameson.” The other Lieutenant was an older woman from Boston and scared the bejesus out of the 4 girls that had been there since the 5th. 
Evie was surprised when her name was called to join Olivia’s group and how her friend pointedly ignored her and called several girls that included Lily, Louise, Daisy, Adele, and Ruthie, among others. Maybe this was her chance to get her friend back, she hated how lonely the neighborhood had been since Olivia left again and how out of control and moody both Bobby and Bill got. Shortly after they had graduated, the two boys got into a fight with a couple of the others and were arrested shortly afterwards.  
“Olivia, can I talk to you?” She asked once they were dismissed to go to their barracks. 
“It’s Lieutenant and no you can’t.’ Olvia returned icily as she motioned for Daisy, Adele, and Ruthie to follow her. 
“You are Evie right?” Betsy asked from behind her, curious. One night out, Olivia told her the whole story about how she ended up in Charleston again to take care of her great great grandfather, how she and Bill broke up because he cheated on her with Evie, how it broke her heart, and how it led to her ending up with Lewis. At first, when she heard the pieced-together version of the story from Lewis, she had put a lot of fault on Olivia, but then hearing it she understood, she would have reacted the same way if it happened to her. 
Once Evie nodded her head, Betsy carried on, “I would give her time, she is extremely hurt with everything that has gone on with you and Bill and is struggling with Nicholas and James’s deaths and her mother’s arrest. She may come around, she may not, but that is something you deserve. No friend should ever sleep with their friend’s boyfriend. No matter the reasoning.” 
Evie looked down at the ground, upset, she knew that Betsy was right and she should have known better that Olivia would magically forgive her now that they were together at the same camp.  But the good thing was that she had time to get on her good side. 
**
“Lieutenant wasn’t joking when she said that this was going to be hard.” Adele Stevens complained as she sat down at one of the benches in the mess hall, they had been in Meade for almost 2 weeks and they had proceeded to push all this information into their heads and showed them how to do dressings and treat wounds on top of the basic physical training in the field. That was on top of the administrative, organization, sanitation, and ward and clinical nursing. 
It was exhausting. But it was so rewarding.  “No, she wasn't.” Daisy Goodwin agreed as she covered her yawn with her hand before looking down the table at Olivia who had her chin propped up on her hand, her eyes closed, for the last few nights, she had nightmares every few hours. 
The night before Daisy had woken up and seen that she was sitting up in her bed, knee pulled to her chest staring out of the window in an almost unsettling manner. A runner stopped by the end of the table where Olivia was at and whispered something to her. There was almost a look of panic that crossed her face before the mask went back into place. 
“I wonder what that is about.”
*** 
General Forbes's office 
** 
“General?  You wanted to see me? “ Olivia asked, sticking her head into the office. “Yes, Olivia, come in.’ “No one else died right?’  Elizabeth looked up and offered her a soft smile, "Oh no, no, I needed to talk to you about where you are going next, with the group you have been working with.” Olivia pulled a face at the thought of having to keep working with Amber Scott. There were several moments where they had been toe to toe yelling at each other. 
The General swallowed the laughter that bubbled up, Finn had said repeatedly that Robert was the twin most like him but the more she got to know Olivia the more she saw Finn. The eye roll and inaudible scoff and the curse that normally followed was a big case and point. “We are going to send you and your girls to Camp Toccoa to the paratroopers.’ 
“The what?” 
“The paratroopers. They jump  out of planes with their full gear to fight.”  
If her fear of planes and flying was starting to kick in, Forbes couldn't tell, and she was glad it wasn't because these girls were going to need her, and the boys including her twin brother who was going to be there were going to need it and Olivia needed it. The added surprise of her seeing Bobby was a bonus. 
“You are going to leave in two days' time.” “Yes ma'am.” she said, “I will go tell the girls. Thank you.”  Forbes nodded her head returning the salute.
** 
The girls were still sitting at the table when Olivia came back into the mess hall. “Alright ladies.” she started after taking the pre-offered coffee cup, “General Forbes told me we are to Camp Toccoa and join the paratroopers in training in two days' time.” “Does that mean we are going with them when they ship out?” Lily, one of the nurses, who was deathly shy and had been taken under Olivia and the other's wings. “Yes, but Lil, we will be together and I will make sure we stay together for as long as possible.” 
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drtyydiana · 2 years ago
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it’s 1984.  
this place feels nothing like home—in a way that makes her feel like she has no business being here,  like an outsider lingering on the fringes.  she does not feel like herself.  it’s unwelcoming,  and she expects nothing more,  nothing less in a city slowly eating itself like an ourboros.  in between the stumbling zombies down the fractured sidewalks—there’s nothing behind their eyes but desperation,  the white banners hosted on windows stating that “the police are watching this crack block,”  and unfamiliar faces on every single corner,  catcalling and whistlings—she keeps a razor-sharped pocketknife in her pocket and a can of mace in the other.  but she knows her mother did not have her best interest in mind.   diana was tired of it,  didn’t want to be around it.  she recalls telling her moms,  and her papi,  she wanted out.  her father agreed with the promise that after one more year of selling out of her school’s work program to the white kids of the 1%,  then she’ll be free.  her mother said nothing.  then the raids started.  
papi had gotten locked up almost 6 months ago,  a few days before her eighteenth birthday.  the dea knocked down the door to their apartment complex—carrying him out in shackles and handcuffs with rapid curses falling from his mouth in his first language.  the feds did not pay to repair the damage.  they didn’t find anything in their residence.  but that didn’t matter—they had been watching them all for a while,  enough to build a solid foundation for a case.  she recalls monet turning to her—you stay here,  you work.  if you have no intention to help fix what your father fucked up,  you leave.  she left.  her school behind—thousands of dollars of tuition and credit hours,  inches from her second year as a political science,  pre-law student.  her brothers behind.   
sending diana away to live with one of her mother’s cousins,  michelle,  had been a decision that her father had no say in.  the nonsense belief that if she kept her head down over here,  she’ll be fine.  the family was sought after back home,  from the feds,  from folks her parents screwed over.  to her mother,  she was the easiest target.   she was young,  but she wasn’t naive,  and hurling her across the country wouldn’t solve the gapping wound,  the fissure in their family left back home.  cousin michelle married a trini man,  daniel.  they had no children,  but an older pitbull that had seen better days and a small two-bedroom apartment in imperial courts.  she took the bedroom facing the courtyard. 
kept her window sealed shut and curtains closed like the room was her private cell.  didn’t spare one glance at the men gathered around,  always playing music,  always dealing under the street lights in the center.  occasionally,  she’ll see maurice skating by,  obnoxiously loud, on top of the roof.  her sleep is persistently broken by someone’s baby crying in the apartment next to hers and a couple fighting to the left,  the sound of fists and a cry for help that she ignores as she turns over in bed. 
michelle worked as a nurse,  mostly night shifts—picking up hours in the day doing extra work with the hiv patients at the local clinic,  and daniel spent most of the days,  including weekends,  away working as a welder in long beach.  she never saw much of either of them and intended to keep it that way.  monet periodically sent money down for the married couple as a business testament,  but diana didn't see much of it,  just enough to keep her alive in this hellscape that served as no alternative to what she was forced to leave behind.  maybe it was intentional.  perhaps,  she wanted her dead without having to pull the trigger herself.  it sounded so akin to the behaviors of that woman.  but hypotheticals did nothing for her,  and she didn’t waste her time dwelling on the psychosis of her mother.  
she spent the bulk of her time studying,  gathering pamphlets for local community colleges to apply to—she had no intention of staying here longer than needed; as soon as she could apply,  get away… she would and ignoring everyone,  everything around her.  but she was not oblivious.  every inch of this forsaken country was infected.  there was no escaping,  that drug made them blind and craving more,  more.  the corner boys were easily replaceable if they were struck down by a bullet or even their own blind stupidity.  always so stupid.  she could hear her moms criticize their stupidity.  the rest of her time was spent working her part-time job at the corner store—small,  owned by a couple of vietnamese,  and not too far from where she lived.   the fluorescent lights overhead cast everything in a sickening,  crusty yellow glow.  the rows of candy and chip bags and a sign that says “no minors” over the cigarette case slightly obscure her vision.  hours spent ringing up ungrateful customers,  throwing shit into bags—mostly 40s,  cheap wines, and newports,  and praying that today isn’t one of the unfortunate days someone decided to hit the place up for the fifty dollars in the cash register.  a quick fix for them in exchange for a bullet in her head.  she leans over the counter,  flipping through a la times newspaper,  scanning the front and back articles.  gliding her pink nails across the page. 
each story was the same,  crossfires,  the spread of disease,  the spread of violence,  and president reagan’s inaction with the disease and overaction with drug enforcement.  the bell rings, signifying someone is entering the store,  followed by music blasting from someone’s boombox.  she doesn’t bother looking up,  grinds her teeth,  and flips the page harder.  she has 30 minutes left on her shift—it ain’t worth it.  ‘ i ain’t need to fuckin’ hear myself think,  anyway .’  sarcasm tumbling behind her words.
@gyataborn
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rockislandadultreads · 2 years ago
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Book Recommendations: Wayward Women in Literature
Bunny by Mona Awad
Samantha Heather Mackey couldn't be more of an outsider in her small, highly selective MFA program at New England's Warren University. A scholarship student who prefers the company of her dark imagination to that of most people, she is utterly repelled by the rest of her fiction writing cohort--a clique of unbearably twee rich girls who call each other "Bunny," and seem to move and speak as one.
But everything changes when Samantha receives an invitation to the Bunnies' fabled "Smut Salon," and finds herself inexplicably drawn to their front door--ditching her only friend, Ava, in the process. As Samantha plunges deeper and deeper into the Bunnies' sinister yet saccharine world, beginning to take part in the ritualistic off-campus "Workshop" where they conjure their monstrous creations, the edges of reality begin to blur. Soon, her friendships with Ava and the Bunnies will be brought into deadly collision.
My Sister, The Serial Killer by Oyinkan Braithwaite
When Korede's dinner is interrupted one night by a distress call from her sister, Ayoola, she knows what's expected of her: bleach, rubber gloves, nerves of steel and a strong stomach. This'll be the third boyfriend Ayoola's dispatched in, quote, self-defence and the third mess that her lethal little sibling has left Korede to clear away. She should probably go to the police for the good of the menfolk of Nigeria, but she loves her sister and, as they say, family always comes first. Until, that is, Ayoola starts dating the doctor where Korede works as a nurse. Korede's long been in love with him, and isn't prepared to see him wind up with a knife in his back: but to save one would mean sacrificing the other...
Happy Hour by Marlowe Granados
Refreshing and wry in equal measure, Happy Hour is an intoxicating novel of youth well spent. Isa Epley is all of twenty-one years old, and already wise enough to understand that the purpose of life is the pursuit of pleasure. After a sojourn across the pond, she arrives in New York City for a summer of adventure with her best friend, one newly blond Gala Novak. They have little money, but that’s hardly going to stop them from having a good time.
In her diary, Isa describes a sweltering summer in the glittering city. By day, the girls sell clothes in a market stall, pinching pennies for their Bed-Stuy sublet and bodega lunches. By night, they weave from Brooklyn to the Upper East Side to the Hamptons among a rotating cast of celebrities, artists, Internet entrepreneurs, stuffy intellectuals, and bad-mannered grifters. Money runs ever tighter and the strain tests their friendship as they try to convert their social capital into something more lasting than their precarious gigs as au pairs, nightclub hostesses, paid audience members, and aspiring foot fetish models. Through it all, Isa’s bold, beguiling voice captures the precise thrill of cultivating a life of glamour and intrigue as she juggles paying her dues with skipping out on the bill.
Eileen by Ottessa Moshfegh
The Christmas season offers little cheer for Eileen Dunlop, an unassuming yet disturbed young woman trapped between her role as her alcoholic father’s caretaker in a home whose squalor is the talk of the neighborhood and a day job as a secretary at the boys’ prison, filled with its own quotidian horrors. Consumed by resentment and self-loathing, Eileen tempers her dreary days with perverse fantasies and dreams of escaping to the big city. In the meantime, she fills her nights and weekends with shoplifting, stalking a buff prison guard named Randy, and cleaning up her increasingly deranged father’s messes. When the bright, beautiful, and cheery Rebecca Saint John arrives on the scene as the new counselor at Moorehead, Eileen is enchanted and proves unable to resist what appears at first to be a miraculously budding friendship. In a Hitchcockian twist, her affection for Rebecca ultimately pulls her into complicity in a crime that surpasses her wildest imaginings.
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