#yes i had one yesterday. this is a different one and its on thursday

[autumnoakes]

i give up studying for this fucking midterm lmao

[layanomaly]

Okay- so I feel like im a bit calm (definitely real) after yesterdays finale to properly make a statement about it

And I really want to put a few of these points out there while the tags are still trending and while I still have time cuz now that AAA I finally over I really need to focus on my studies which is gonna be hard…..but yeah it is what it is

And honestly 

Look idc what anyone says anymore

Yes there were some loose ends and a whole lot of questions

And I get that a lot of people were upset…..believe me I was too and still am

But I wanna be a voice of positivity

cuz I feel like whatever plot wholes they left 

Like jac said were there for US to interpret

Or as my delusional ass is telling me maybe theyre setting up for another season???

And yes for those of you whore saying that we shouldn’t be the ones to figure theyre story out YOURE RIGHT, I AGREE WE SHOULDNT

But at the end of the day it still was a marvel show

And Whatever it was 

It was an amazing experience

Yes we had our highs and lows 

And Looking back on Agatha’s story, yes I do feel a mix of admiration and frustration. There was so much potential in exploring her relationship with Rio and the complex layers of her own journey, which felt overshadowed in the end. At times, the focus on Agatha's role as a mother felt like it could have been handled differently and Instead of fully delving into Agatha’s growth, her story was ultimately used to elevate Billy’s arc, leaving her character, her grief, and her love for Rio without the closure they deserved.

That being said 

Again while it's fair to wish for a bit more closure for characters like Agatha, Rio, Jen, and Alice,

I truly do think jac schaeffer is a genius

like for a really long time i used to think that we were reading too deep into scenes and that they arent actually that deep and we’re just being delusional

But watching, reading interviews of her 

Finding out that as a matter of fact it actually IS that deep

And that everything means something and nothing is unintensional

just hearing her talk about the characters she writes is such a fulfilling feeling you have no idea

its the way she understands those characters and portrays their trauma….She really cares for themm 

she does her research and makes sure she understand her characters and the lore

unlike *cough michael waldron cough* 

Who couldnt even be bothered enough to watch a show which was an indefinitely important arc for one of the characters he was assigned to write for a movie 

Its just-

Look all im tryna say is

Shes a master in her craft and no one does it like her 

despite everything she provided us with two of MARVELs best shows up to date and no one can tell me other wise

Cuz While the narrative pivot left parts of Agatha’s story untold, Schaeffer's dedication to character depth shows her commitment to storytelling which you can really see in the way she talks about those characters

again while I wasnt satisfied with the finale its her dedication to understanding these characters, down to the smallest detail means so much to me. 

Cuz it’s not just about the story—she collaborates with her actors to bring out the arcs they envision which makes it even more special

And It’s truly disappointing that Marvel didn’t fully capitalize on the opportunity to explore Agatha’s own arc in its entirety, especially with such a capable writer at the helm. 

Still, I’m hopeful that future stories will revisit and give the characters like Agatha and Rio the focus they deserve

And i reallyyy hope they sign jac up as a writer for future projects

Cuz ultimately, I think her approach to these characters makes her one of the standout storytellers in Marvel right now, and I’m excited to see what she does next with all the new responses from the fandom 

I hope you guys get what im trying to say

Anyways to conclude my thoughts

Whatever it was

I truly did love this show

And ill really miss coming back home on Thursdays to watch the new episodes drop

[kaiwewi]

Sharing is Caring

[Masterlist: Sharing is Caring]

Synopsis: Hero is missing time. But today's date isn't the only thing that seems a little off.

Hero stared at the date on their calendar app and ...

January 11th.

No. That couldn’t be right.

Frowning, they closed the app and checked the Internet instead, for surely their phone must be broken. There was absolutely no way this could be correct. Last week, when they’d completely lost track of time and thought they were ‘missing’ 2 days, had been one thing … but getting the dates mixed up a second time so soon after?

Sure, uni could be exhausting and during project weeks and over the holidays when there were no regular schedules one might even become engrossed enough as to forget which weekday it was. Their all-nighters and messed up sleeping schedule could easily blur the lines between days. And in their final year, they were no stranger to working unhealthy hours. But even they weren’t this bad at time management.

They went on Google and typed ‘today’s date’ into the search bar.

Wednesday, January 11th glared up at them from the phone screen.

It just didn’t add up. How could it be January 11th when yesterday had been the 7th? How could it be Wednesday when yesterday had been Saturday?

Yesterday had definitely been a Saturday.

What the hell had happened to Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday?

There was no way they could have slept through 3 entire days and not felt like crap upon waking.

Somehow, they’d lost 3 days.

Or rather, 5 days, if they counted the other 2 days from last week which they could have sworn they’d somehow skipped until they’d dismissed the incident – because, well, they’d just been so overworked and tired out. Confused mix-ups and silly little miscalculations in their schedule had seemed so much more straightforward an explanation than time skips or memory gaps.

Now, nothing made any sense anymore.

They reached for their diary among the many books on their shelf, and it shouldn't be sitting between Good Omens and Paul Takes the Form of a Mortal Girl, because that was not where they’d put it!

Actually… nothing was quite where and how it should be. Yes, the differences were subtle and on any other day they might not have noticed them at all – but they were there.

In fact, now that they were searching, they found tiny incongruities scattered about their entire one-room apartment: an absence of dust on the spines of their books; a neater alignment of the folds of their curtain; the placement of their pencil case now more towards the middle of their desk rather than the right corner; the emptied waste bin; the milk in their fridge being a different brand; the sink being devoid of the unwashed dishes they’d lazily left there yesterday ….

Or, not yesterday, apparently.

Not even their own body had been spared the tiny inconspicuous changes: a look in the bathroom mirror revealed that their hair, though tousled from sleep, seemed to have been washed very recently – it certainly hadn’t gone unwashed since Thursday. The face staring back at them was missing the dark circles beneath its eyes which they’d grown so accustomed to lately. It almost seemed like, for the first time in weeks, they’d awoken well-rested, full of energy, and with no bodily discomfort whatsoever.

Under other circumstances, it would have been bliss. And yet … this was no reason to rejoice.

This was a nightmare.

Back at their desk, they picked up the journal again.

“Dear Diary,” they wrote in a shaking hand.

“I think I’m totally going nuts ….”

[Part 2]

———

For my other stories, visit my [MASTERLIST] ♥

[rhaenella]

You & Me - Rhys Montrose x Reader - Part 18

Part 17 | Part 19

Summary: What happens when reader assassin is tasked with killing the possible future mayor of London; Rhys Montrose. Politician by day, Eat the Rich Killer by night. But he isn’t the only person wearing different masks. 

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Violence, murder, immoral sociopathic behaviour, mentions of alcoholism, drug abuse and neglect, smut

Word count: 5.3k

A/N: at the end.

Song: Don’t You Know – Jaymes Young

A web of dark, menacing clouds drifted over London in the distance, a strong breeze slowly picking up. The air was still warm and humid thanks to the minor heat wave that had hit Southern England in the past two weeks. But as always, those warmer days would eventually conclude with a typical summer’s storm. 

You were on your way home from lunch with Claire, having only a couple more hours to get ready for tonight’s pretentious event where you would bring one of its guests to their demise.

With a slight hurry to your steps in an attempt to try to beat the oncoming rain, you turned the corner into your street, taking out your keys as you walked up to the entrance of your building. You glanced back twice at a sleek, black town car parked on the opposite side of the street, a driver waiting patiently in the front. Frowning and feeling a little suspicious, you turned the lock and entered your building. 

The stairs squeaked loudly as you climbed them up to the third floor of your flat. You immediately noticed that your front door was opened and you quietly made your way towards it, already guessing who it must be that had rather rudely broken into your flat. 

“Are you aware that breaking and entering can land you in the nick?” You asked, promptly closing your front door behind you.

Rhys didn’t look startled at your sudden entrance, lounging comfortably on your couch as he’d likely heard you making your way up the old and noisy stairs. He closed the work of fiction he’d been reading as he’d awaited your arrival. Your gaze zeroed in on the novel he’d picked out from your own bookcase, Normal People.

“Hello to you, too, darling,” Rhys smiled cheerfully.

You dropped your purse to the kitchen table with a sigh, raising a single, sceptical eyebrow at him. 

“One of the perks of growing up on a council estate,” Rhys shrugged. “You know how to pick a lock.”

“Well, good for you. Next time, please just wait until I give you the bloody key, will you?”

Rhys inclined his head, softly laughing at your mild annoyance. He put down the book on the coffee table before casually adjusting his cufflinks, directing your attention to the immaculate outfit he was wearing. A simple but elegant, black suit and tie with his shoes polished to a shine. Rhys always dressed well, but this was quite an extravagant choice for a simple Thursday night.

You narrowed your eyes. “Why are you dressed like that?”

Rhys grinned, standing up from his spot on your couch to slowly walk towards you, understanding hitting you at once.

“Oh, no,” you shook your head.

“Oh, yes.”

For fuck’s sake.

“No, absolutely not. You’re not coming with me tonight, Rhys,” you stated, your tone final.

You’d informed Rhys on your plan to attend the Sotheby’s event tonight — or the broad lines of it at least — over the phone the day before yesterday, not realising he would take that as an invitation to jovially tag along.

Rhys simply looked at you in amusement as he stood in front of you. “Why are you so opposed to the idea? I think it’ll be great fun, don’t you?”

You scoffed, meeting his eye. 

“Great fun? Rhys, you draw too much attention to yourself. All eyes would be on us,” you explained. “And by the way, how were you planning to get an invite on such short notice?”

Rhys obviously didn’t seem half as concerned with any of your objections as you were, an air of indifference hanging around him.

“First of all, you clearly underestimate me if you think I won’t be able to finagle an invite to Sotheby’s by myself,” Rhys started, placing a hand over his heart in mock hurt at your low confidence.

“Second, all eyes will be on us soon, anyway. We can’t keep hiding from the media forever. Might as well beat them to the punch.”

You felt a slight nervous jitter run through you at the thought of the media and everyone’s eyes on you. Yes, you’d decided earlier that you were doing this, that you would openly support Rhys and stand by his side. But you’d secretly hoped there would be a bit more time. To pick a moment that wasn’t as delicate as a hit on one of the most prominent people in Big Pharma on a night when half of London’s aristocracy would be attending. 

It was already quite the bold move to kill Fernsby tonight, but you were prepared for it. However, you were not prepared for every guest in attendance to be watching your every move as you sauntered along the masses, accompanied by Rhys Montrose — awarded writer and presently favoured mayoral candidate. The chances of people recognising you from the online articles when you were by yourself were slim, but with Rhys by your side… No, you would never get to move around freely and unnoticed.

“I’ve not exactly counted on all the extra pairs of eyes on me. How do you expect me to be able to carry out my job when everybody is gawking at us?” 

“I have every faith in your abilities to work around that. You’re a lot smarter than all of those spoiled wankers in there,” Rhys countered.

You warmed a little at the compliment, but you wouldn’t be swayed by his charm so easily. Humming noncommittally, you turned to open your purse and empty its contents on the kitchen table in order to transfer them to your clutch later, carefully setting down the poison filled bottle of Chanel no. 5. 

Rhys reached out to touch your arm, tenderly stroking to get your attention, to get you to give in to him. You felt a familiar shiver at his touch and you immediately put some distance between you, opting to get a glass of water from the kitchen.

“Come on, darling. You haven’t even given me a kiss yet,” Rhys sighed.

“With the breaking and entering, and unequivocally inviting yourself to my private kill party tonight — I’m sorry but I don’t think you’re deserving of one,” you said, only half joking.

Rhys pouted. “That’s unfair. I haven’t seen you for days.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his whining tone, filling a glass with water and gulping it down in one go. You wanted nothing more than to rush into his arms and keep kissing him until your lungs were burning and screaming at you to break away and take a breath. A small part of you almost wanted to cave and allow him to accompany you tonight. You hated to admit it, but Rhys was right, it would be a hell of a lot of fun. If it wasn’t for the objections you’d already raised. 

So, you resisted. 

“You know you’re being unreasonable here, right?” Rhys asked from where he was now leaning against the table. 

“Oh, I’m being unreasonable?” You shot back.

“Definitely,” Rhys affirmed, nothing but playfulness in his voice. “Next thing, you won’t allow me to see you in that wonderful dress you’ve got laid out on your bed.”

You rolled your eyes at his blatant confession of snooping around your flat, putting the glass in the sink.

“Or worse, you won’t even let me taste you. Or,” he added, dramatic. “You won’t even let me smell you.”

The deep, gravel of his voice made you shiver again. God no, you definitely wanted him to. To have him come up to you, burying his face in your neck, inhaling your scent before attacking your skin with his soft, full lips. You would gladly welcome the feeling of his hands all over your body, his heat pressed to yours, pleasure coursing through both of you as your bodies moved to a perfectly timed rhythm. 

You were so lost in these sinful thoughts that you barely registered Rhys’ next words. Something about being able to find out what you would smell like from a distance, even if you’d ignore him for the rest of the evening. 

You didn’t think much of his words at first, but then the true meaning of what he’d said landed. What you would smell like. 

The perfume.

Your eyes widened, your body instantly turning around as panic surged through you. You burst out of the kitchen to find Rhys already holding up the bottle of Chanel no. 5 that you’d taken out of your purse. He was grinning, evidently proud of himself for having found a way to get you to come out. Rhys was completely unaware of the fact that he was about to smell a bottle filled with a deadly poison. A poison that could violently kill him on the spot within mere minutes.

“Rhys, don’t!” You shouted.

You seized hold of his wrist, forcefully grabbing the perfume bottle from him, hastily checking if the top was still securely shut. When you were sure that Rhys hadn’t yet managed to open it, you let out a sigh of relief, looking up into his puzzled eyes.

“You nearly poisoned yourself just now,” you breathed harshly, feeling your heart painfully hammer in your chest at the jump scare Rhys had given you.

The grin slowly fell off of his face, his brows furrowing. He looked from you to the bottle, analysing it intently as you held it protectively close to your body, afraid it could still potentially hurt him somehow. Rhys’ lips parted slightly in confusion, the lines on his forehead prominent as he apparently couldn’t comprehend making the grave mistake of mixing up a perfume bottle with poison.

“It’s supposed to pass for perfume,” you explained, chest heaving from the sudden adrenaline rush. “I had it made exclusively for tonight.”

Rhys nodded lightly, breaking out of his frozen state. The concern in his blue eyes was unmistakable as he took in the alarm in your own eyes and the tense line in your shoulders. He slowly reached out to take the bottle from you, but you flinched back instinctively.

“I’ll be more careful this time,” Rhys promised, voice steady. 

You allowed Rhys to slowly take the bottle from you and he carefully turned it around in his palm.

“What’s in it?” Rhys asked.

“Aconite.”

He winced. “Causes seizures, right?”

“No, instant heart attacks,” you corrected.

Rhys glanced over the bottle once more before setting it a safe distance away on the kitchen table. Next thing you knew, you felt his arms pull you close to his body, enveloping you in an embrace. Rhys knew the panic in your voice had been too real to simply brush off the moment and move on. He mentally scolded himself for being so careless, for scaring you like that. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Rhys whispered, placing a reassuring kiss to your forehead. 

You immediately relaxed in his embrace, your breathing going back to normal as you focused on the warmth of his body against yours. 

“Fuck,” you breathed into his shoulder, chuckling a little. “You scared me there for a minute.”

“I know,” he said.

Rhys’ hands found yours and he squeezed them reassuringly, the corners of his lips quirking up slightly.

“On the bright side, I finally get to hold you in my arms,” Rhys quipped, lightening the mood.

You snorted, shaking your head at him. “You’re impossible sometimes, you know that?”

Nevertheless, you cupped his jaw, bringing your mouth up to his. Rhys made a satisfied noise against your lips, it had been days, though it had felt like months to him. It was a soft, slow glide of lips that desperately made you want to deepen the kiss. To have him. All of him.

The touch of Rhys’ feathery light hands as they travelled up your arms to cup both of your cheeks made you want to lean into him further. And if it was up to Rhys, he would’ve kept kissing you, touching you — do everything in his might to make you feel good. But you couldn’t let him, painfully acknowledging the fact that you had to get ready for tonight’s event at some point. 

Placing one, two, three more kisses on his lips, you reluctantly stepped away from him, creating some distance to get your mind to focus on the task in front of you. Unfortunately, that task didn’t include Rhys. 

“As much as I enjoy this, I need to start getting ready,” you answered Rhys’ questioning gaze.

He obviously wanted more from you. Just like you did from him. But no. You would not get distracted. 

“Of course,” he agreed begrudgingly. 

“So, you’re all set, then? Location, a way in, weapon of choice, a stunning dress, an exit strategy,” Rhys summed up all of the necessities.

“Yes. Like I said, I just need to start getting ready. Preferably without you distracting me,” you accused lightly, trying to move past him but he blocked your way.

“You’re missing one important thing for tonight, darling. Absolutely crucial if you want this kill to be a success.”

You tilted your head to the side, noting his serious expression as you searched his face.

“Oh? And what’s that?” 

Rhys smirked. “A date.”

You rolled your eyes before shooting him a look. Rhys barked a laugh, unable to suppress it at your sheer exasperation.

“Nice try. But I’ve got everything covered and I don’t need you for this.”

That made Rhys look at the remnants of the pile of information you had gathered on Fernsby that were still scattered around the rug-covered floor. You followed his gaze, knowing full well he’d gone through some of the documents whilst he’d waited for you. He’d already admitted to having sneaked a peek at your dress for tonight, so it wasn’t a big leap. Rhys confirmed it not even a second later.

“Interesting man, that Fernsby.”

“You know him?” You couldn’t help but ask, curious despite yourself.

“Can’t say that I do. But I know of him. I’m assuming your Ms. Edwards isn’t a fan?”

He warily glanced at the perfume bottle and you had to stifle a laugh at the slight pursing of his lips. He was clearly still more than a little displeased with the fact that he had nearly and unwittingly offed himself.

“No, she’s not. And that’s really all you need to know. Now, if you don’t mind,” you urged, gesturing blindly to indicate him moving out of your way.

Rhys hummed, completely disregarding you as he remained exactly where he was, his mischievous eyes unabashedly raking your figure. You stubbornly tried to ignore how the undeniable desire emanating from him made you want to peel off all of his fine-tailored clothes. What was it with men wearing suits that made them even more attractive?

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

You shot him another pointed look to which Rhys only smirked in return.

“Like you’re undressing me with your eyes.”

“You’d rather I undress you with my hands?” Rhys murmured, moving closer.

Please, your mind screamed. 

“No,” you answered instead.

Rhys hummed again, brushing your hair off of your shoulder. “I don’t think I believe you.”

He moved even closer to you, your breath catching at the feeling of his warm breath on your neck, just like you’d imagined earlier.

“Rhys,” you warned.

“I can have my driver drop us off at the event. That will save you at least thirty minutes of public transport. Precious time we can spend doing other things.”

Rhys emphasised his tempting words by sliding his hand from your shoulder, past your neck to possessively land on your throat. You shuddered when he squeezed lightly, teasing, making your pupils dilate perceptibly. Your resistance was dwindling with each touch, and he knew it. Damn him.

“What about the other guests,” you stammered, a final and futile attempt at resisting him. 

“Forget about them, Y/N. Trust in yourself and in your capabilities. I’ll be there to assist you, or cause a massive distraction, if need be,” Rhys grinned.

He leaned in to brush his lips against your cheek, softly kissing his way down to your neck, hands sliding down your curves to hold onto your hips.

“You’re gonna keep being a childish pain in the arse until I allow you to come, aren’t you?”

“Very perceptive,” Rhys confirmed, placing a lingering kiss to your neck. “You might as well give in now, Y/N. I can be very persuasive.”

Inwardly, you couldn’t help but laugh at his choice of words, immediately thinking back to what Claire had said earlier about Rhys. You were definitely not strong enough to say no to him. Especially not now that you knew what kind of pleasure he could give you.

You bit down a moan threatening to escape as he started to suck on the delicate skin below your ear. 

That’s it.

You couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Why don’t you show me?”

Rhys leaned back to look you in the eye. His fingers dug deeper into your hips and his eyes glazed over with passionate lust the moment he knew you were serious. He smirked triumphantly and it almost made you want to revoke your consent if it wasn’t for the insistent heat already pooling between your legs at his proximity.

“With pleasure,” he said, low. 

Rhys brought his hand to the back of your head, holding you firmly in place as he crashed his lips to yours. You whimpered at the brutal assault of his mouth, his other arm coming around you to pull you even closer, twining the two of you together.

He wasn’t holding back now that you gave him full permission to simply ravage your mouth. And you didn’t want him to, your hand grabbing the base of his neck, holding him close. Kissing deeply and with intent, Rhys’ tongue danced with yours, swallowing each other’s sinful noises. In the back of your mind, you quietly wondered how you could have ever let your nerves for the media’s attention win over having this — having him.

Rhys drove you backwards and you stumbled back until you landed onto the couch with a breathy laugh. Grinning, Rhys crowded over you, finding your mouth again. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist, anchoring him in place, licking into his mouth. You couldn’t get enough of him, your hands dipping underneath his suit jacket. He moved back to quickly shrug it off, letting the garment fall to the floor before diving back in, sweeping his tongue against yours, all-consuming. 

You traded kisses like that, like you didn’t have to breathe, completely addicted to each other’s taste.

Shifting underneath him, you suggestively nudged his already half-hard cock, making him hiss into the kiss as lust fired straight through him. You broke the kiss to let out a soft laugh, repeating the motion deliberately, smiling as you playfully bit at his mouth. 

“Who’s persuasive, now?” You chuckled.

“The jury’s still out, darling,” Rhys shot back, smiling cheekily.

Rhys’ hand slid underneath the hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric higher and higher, providing him with access to newly exposed skin. He moved lower, placing kisses all over your stomach. Urging you to arch your back, Rhys unclasped your bra, immediately sucking a nipple into his mouth. You keened, cradling his head, your hips moving against his out of their own accord, making him groan into the velvet of your skin.

Soon, all of your clothes were a disregarded mess on the floor, including Rhys’ very expensive suit. You faintly registered one of his three hundred pounds cufflinks clank onto the wooden floor a few metres away from you. Neither you nor Rhys paid it any mind as he sucked a bruising kiss in between your breasts.

“Tell me a secret,” you gasped, repeating the words that had previously succeeded in eliciting the truth from both of your souls. “How long have you been planning to tag along?”

You could feel his mouth break into a wide, boyish grin as he nipped along the skin of your ribs. 

Rhys glanced up at you, eyes dancing with amusement. “Since you took the call.”

You groaned, throwing your head back against the pillow, exasperated. Rhys laughed, continuing to kiss his way down your body. 

“You better earn your plus one status, Mr. Montrose,” you challenged.

In response, light fingertips brushed your clit, nearly making you jump out of your skin. You lifted yourself up onto your elbows, watching as he pushed your thighs wider, making a space for himself.

“Oh, I certainly will, Miss Y/L/N,” he promised, his mouth descending on your wanting core. 

You gasped at the feeling of his plump lips closing around your clit, suckling sweetly. Rhys moved down through your already slick folds, lapping up the wetness before tracing his tongue back up and around your clit, repeating the movements relentlessly.

Fire and want slammed through you, Rhys maintaining eye contact as he expertly ate you out, his sparkling blue eyes betraying how much he enjoyed seeing your pleasure-stricken face. Your hips bucked involuntarily, Rhys snaking an arm around them to hold you down. Your own arm gave out beneath you and you fell back to the couch with a loud moan.

Your whole focus zeroed in on Rhys and his perfect mouth on you, unable to think of anything else. The way he managed to learn how to work your body in such a short span of time, it was honestly remarkable. He was able to coax your pleasure to highs you hadn’t known were possible before you’d met him.

Your hands held onto the cushions for dear life as Rhys’ tongue kept insistently flickering against your clit. Your internal muscles clenched around nothing and you whimpered at the emptiness.

“More, please,” you moaned.

Rhys hmmed against your clit, sending a wave of delicious vibrations against your bundle of nerves. You let out a wanton noise, his fingers obliging your request as they delved into you.

The added pressure of his long fingers filling you up, it was almost too much, and you writhed beneath him. Rhys tightened his hold on your hips though, keeping you pressed to his mouth, unable to escape his touch.

He quickly built up your high, your increasing moans and your inner walls clenching around his fingers functioning as prime indicators of your fast-approaching orgasm. But just as you were about to tumble over the edge, Rhys relented, slowing his fingers and the movement of his mouth. 

“What—” you protested, dazed.

He withdrew his fingers from inside you, slowly and deliberately licking them clean.

“I’ll let you come, if you let me,” he said, a wicked little gleam in his eyes.

Was he bloody serious? Hadn’t you already given into him, essentially allowing him to come with you tonight? What else did the bastard want? You stared him down, eyes narrowing.

Rhys waited patiently for your answer, completely unbothered by his own nuisance as he placed open-mouthed kisses to your inner thigh, biting softly before smoothing over it with his tongue.

You groaned, trying to move your hips to chase his slowly retreating mouth that kept moving farther away from where you needed him most. Rhys smirked down at you, pressing your hips down into the couch with an even firmer grip in retaliation.

“Please,” you begged, turning completely submissive underneath him, desperate for his touch.

Rhys absolutely loved it when you fully gave in to him, granting him the power over your body and pleasure, trusting that he would make you feel so fucking good. Even if he could be a goddamn tease. 

“I need verbal confirmation, Y/N.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned again. “Yes. Yes, you can come with me to the fucking most ostentatious event of the decade.”

Rhys smiled, relishing your obedience. 

“Now, was that so hard?”

You were about to answer him with a snarky remark, but whatever you were about to say left your brain the moment his mouth was back on your heat, his fingers resuming their unforgiving pace inside of you. 

Your hand shot out to grab hold of his arm that was still coiled around your lower stomach to keep your body down. Rhys focused all of his efforts on rubbing against the one spot inside you that made your nails dig painfully deep into the delicate skin of his wrist, adamant in bringing you over the edge. His lips closed around your clit, sucking, and you made a choked sound, suddenly there.

“Rhys,” you cried out, everything in your body pulling tight and hot. 

A blistering wave of pleasure took you under, making you gasp for air, Rhys’ edging tactics surely having heightened the intensity of your orgasm. Rhys gentled you through it, mouth still moving over you, but lighter as you slowly came down. 

After a few delirious moments, you came back to your senses. Rhys’ chin was perched on top of your thigh, openly admiring you with a smile, evidently proud of his accomplishment of reducing you to a mumbling, moaning mess. 

“Don’t look so smug.”

“Ah, but I managed to persuade you, didn’t I?”

“Oh, shut up,” you murmured, grabbing onto his neck to pull him up.

He gladly followed your lead, capturing your lips once his face was at your level. You faintly tasted traces of yourself on his tongue, that in and of itself arousing you once again.

Rhys simply kissed you for a while, allowing you a moment before he would give it his all to give you another mind-altering orgasm. 

You sighed into the kiss, running your hands up and down his chest. Rhys dipped down to kiss along your jaw, over your chin and back up to your mouth. 

“Rhys,” you breathed, biting down on his lower lip, tugging in invitation. 

Your blunt nails scratched down his back, your legs rewrapping themselves around his waist as you moved your hips to grind against his length. Rhys didn’t need any more urging than that. 

His fingers wrapped around your upper thigh as he positioned your bodies, lining himself up before slowly sinking inside of you. You gasped, still sensitive down there. 

Rhys set up an excruciating rhythm, slow but deep and thorough, making you feel every inch of him. 

Your hips moved up to meet his thrusts, your fingers digging into his muscled shoulders as Rhys held your gaze, his blue eyes almost black. You were captivated by them, getting lost in the intensity of his stare. You felt as if he looked directly into your bare soul, knowing precisely what to do and how to move to make you feel like you could explode.

“Y/N,” Rhys panted, dropping his forehead to yours. 

He produced the most magnificent, sinful sounds out of pure and utter bliss as you squeezed around him. 

Hearing Rhys let out those low, hoarse grunts of pleasure and feeling the sureness of his deep, methodical thrusts, it easily helped build up that familiar knot inside of you once more, ready to burst any second. You moaned his name, reclaiming his lips. Sensing you were close, Rhys moved his free hand between you.

His thumb played over your clit with just the right amount of pressure, sending you over the edge all over again, moaning into his mouth. Rhys fucked you through it, gradually picking up his pace to chase his own orgasm. He came soon after, his rhythm stuttering as he thrust into you once, twice before bottoming out, trembling against you as he spilled his seed inside of you.

Both of your chests were heaving as you tried to catch your breath, sweat beading between your bodies. 

You closed your eyes for a short moment, and when you re-opened them, you found Rhys staring at you, damp curls all over the place as he looked at you like you were a miracle. You were already flushed from your intense sexual activities, but if you weren’t, you’d sure as hell flush at the sight of him. 

Rhys moved, slipping out of you and rearranging your bodies on the couch, having you lay partially on top of him, your head over his steadily beating heart. You sighed, tangling your legs with his. 

Neither one of you said anything for a moment, quietly basking in the blissful afterglow. You were the first to break the silence a few minutes later.

“It’s never been like this for me,” you whispered.

You didn’t have to specify any further, Rhys immediately understanding what you meant. 

“Me neither,” he admitted.

The connection between you, it opened up realms of feeling, and ultimately pleasure that you’d never experienced with anyone else in your life. You were attuned to his soul, and his to yours. Like a sweet melody only the two of you could hear, no one else in the world privy of the beautiful, encapsulating, and oh so hypnotising song.

Soulmates, Claire had said. And in this moment, you almost wanted to believe her. 

You silently traced patterns over his chest, Rhys combing through your hair with a remarkable delicacy. You wanted to stay in this moment forever. But of course, you couldn’t. There was still the pending murder of Mr. Daniel Fernsby. He had to die — tonight.

Rhys apparently paralleled your thoughts, and officially chose to shatter your illusions of just staying here and ignoring reality for a little while longer with his next words.

“Come on, we have to get ready,” Rhys softly urged you to get up and subsequently move away from the warmth of his chest. 

You groaned in response. “I’m never moving again.”

The vibrations of his contagious laughter rumbled through you, a feeling of all-consuming happiness enveloping you at the mere sound of it, making your answering smile stretch from ear to ear. 

“I don’t think you have much of a choice, darling.”

“What do you mean? I can decide what I do and don’t do perfectly well for myself, thank you.”

He chuckled. “I know. And you’ve already decided previously to get this job done tonight.”

Rhys tightened his arms around you, and it was the only warning you got before he hoisted himself up, taking you with him.

“Rhys,” you squealed at the suddenness, coiling yourself around his body like a koala bear, afraid of dropping to the floor and landing on your bare arse. 

“There’s work to be done, darling. And I for one cannot wait to finally see you in your element up close,” he answered, carrying you to your ensuite bathroom, walking past your bed where your dress was laid out.

You huffed. Of course now that you’d allowed him to come with you, he was all of a sudden very impatient to get a move on. Typical.

“You act as if you’ve just won first-class tickets to a world-renowned theatre production.”

“Isn’t it the same thing?” 

You snorted. “I guess it depends on one’s definition of the word entertainment. Now, put me down, you arse.”

Rhys chuckled at your demanding tone, nevertheless setting you down in front of your bathroom cabinet. You looked up at him and Rhys leaned down to capture your lips in a soft kiss. 

“I would happily join you in the shower, but I fear we might get distracted again,” he mumbled against your lips.

“I think you might be right,” you laughed. “I’ll be quick and then the shower’s all yours.”

He gave you one more, brief kiss before turning to leave so you could finally get ready for the event, his parting smile promising an evening full of excitement. 

Turning around, you glanced up at your reflection in the mirror. Your hair was all over the place, your bright eyes shone with joy, and there was a faint blush present on your cheeks. You looked properly fucked, that’s for sure. 

You shook your head with a soft laugh, quickly turning on the shower and grabbing your hairbrush to try and untangle the mess on top of your head. You had approximately one hour before you had to leave, you deduced as you’d registered the time on the clock in your bedroom when Rhys had carried you past it.

Let’s see what the rest of the night will have in store.

–––– 

A/N: I finished drafting this chapter around 2 am. I don’t know if that explains anything but ah, well. I hope you enjoyed it! And please do let me know if you have any other ideas for this fic, or things you would like to see happen. I have a rough outline of where I want the story to go, with a few more plot points to incorporate. I’m thinking, maybe around 9/10 more chapters? Unless someone has a great idea for another storyline ;) So, let me know if you do!

Or just ideas for a different fic altogether… I’m open to ideas. Anyways, thank you for reading and embarking on this journey with me, it means the world to me!

[trissaysmoi]

October 16th, Wednesday

Moi!

(Writing this on a thursday morning because I came home very tired, I didn't even manage to cook and eat dinner.

I feel like I had a hangover even though I didn't drink anything alcoholic. Idk if that makes sense but it's 8 am rn so keep that in mind while reading this.)

I was off for another coverage today around the same area as yesterday. The difference was my trip there today was so much worse. The traffic sucks, it looks like a procession.

I arrived at the area an hour late. Another problem was that we were on the wrong location. But thankfully, we were able to find the right one and went off to cover immediately.

It lasted for 2 hours max. Afterward, I went back to Cubao to grab lunch again and to buy an advanced birthday gift for him. Yes, we met again because we're planning to sort out our post-grad documents in the registrar. I feel so delighted that we're able to meet this often. As the quote goes, "the universe is rarely so lazy."

We went to the mall and made him try Zus coffee (not sponsored lmao) since I've mentioned it to him before. It became his nature to try the stuff I mention to him because apparently, he trusts my taste to that extent.

In his head, it's probably just a hang out sesh with a friend but my delusional ass thinks that it's a date.

Nevertheless, we had a good time and I'm so looking forward to doing more of these with him next time.

Btw I slipped a handwritten letter with the gift and it's the wholehearted message I've sent to someone for a while. I really hate how I'm so down bad to this person even tho I'm aware that he wouldn't reciprocate the feeling for a while.

The message feels like a confession of its own, if he's smart enough to notice. But for now, I'm going to silently wait until the time is right. I don't mind it anyway.

[chloe-caulfield94]

Pricefield poem - A Different Brunette Confessing Love on Thursday

„A Different Brunette Confessing Love on Thursday”

I won’t do this

I can’t

I don’t want to

There’s no absolution to be gained

for my sin

by sweeping its victim

under the rug

It crushes me to know

that you wanted crumbs from my table

to be your last supper

I don’t know

what happened yesterday

A switch was flipped

in my brain

(or in my soul?)

and I became

a better version of myself

for a day

She’s gone now

but the feelings she brought

from a different world

beyond the sea

still remain

like a pirate’s treasure chest

full of Spanish dubloons

that people would kill for

I feel

bitter shame

that I left you

in the rear-view mirror

Cool relief

that now I know

why I am in this world

Sweet joy

of hearing your voice

Electric excitement

of touching you again

It doesn’t matter if we manage

to claw back from the universe

all the years I stole from you

or if a storm washes us away tomorrow

We can be happy

and carefree

and yes

we can love

even on the darkest of days

Your life is not yet forfeit

even if you can’t see it now

because of my cowardice

I want to hold your hand

even though you can’t

hold mine back

I want to kiss your lips

and I know you can

kiss mine back

Whatever time we have left

I desire for it to be filled

with many more days

like the one we just had

The real treasure is love, I said

in what feels like another life

But it was just a few steps from here

and I still mean it

I promised over and over

to stay at your side

and with all my heart

I intend to keep my word

this time

Even if you don’t want me to

Yet

[rhapsodomancer]

it's been a wild couple of weeks

So I left my job at the university in February, right? And then I got a job that I started in early March.

What I didn't know is that the company I was contracted to that was contracted by Toyota to run their IT support was in the middle of an RFP process and re-bidding for their contract, which they lost. Toyota wanted to consolidate all of its IT needs into a single vendor, which makes sense, because they had contracts with like three different ones across the company. Like, helpdesk and tier 2 were two separate ones, and tier 3/CATIA/Delmia support was being done by like two firms by itself

I was like, it's fine, I'll apply for my job within the new company because we'll get priority, but I went home on Friday, May 26th and as soon as I got home, my... I don't know what his position or title was, but he was my manager at the company that was managing my contract? And said that all subcontractors at the Toyota site were being let go. It was basically like, sorry, we'll let you know if anything else comes up, good luck.

Thankfully I had just gotten paid, plus my state tax return, plus I got a check from my car insurance company to cover some minor damages (that I am not super worried about because really, it's just some scuffed paint) so my bills for the month could be paid, but... I had to walk into the meat grinder of the job market.

There must be someone looking out for me, because I had an interview last week for a job that I applied for like a month ago that sounded amazing - basically a 1:1 to my job at the university, a nonprofit that does healthcare research, hybrid, a reasonable driving distance from my house (like ten minutes actually).

They called last week and set up an interview, and I ended up having three interviews in one day. I felt like I was on ANTM on the day where they do the go-sees. I didn't expect to hear anything until this week, so I basically lost my mind with anxiety all of yesterday, but then I had an email with someone from HR wanting to do a 30-minute followup. I was like, alright, that's weird, but that's probably a good sign, right?

He scheduled it for 1:30 and for some reason in my mind, I transposed it to 2:30 (likely because my in-person panel interview with them was at 2:30 last Thursday). He sent me an email asking if I was still available. I panicked and apologized profusely, but he said it was fine, and then offered me the job.

I was ecstatic! And then he sent me my offer letter and the salary on it like... I knew it had to be a typo. It was well into six figures; pretty much what you'd expect the average pay to be for a systems administrator or data engineer, not my position. But I signed and returned the offer anyway.

Then he called me and said that it was indeed a typo, and that if I still wanted the job at the revised (much lower)(but still incredibly respectable) salary, to which, I said yes. Like, it's crazy. It might not be much in the grand scheme but it is still ten grand over what the university was paying me! Or maybe more! But, either way.

It's been a good day.

[insidekaz]

And Thus, Everything Is Tumbling Down

(I know that's a weird way to start another one of my strange post. It'll be explained later. Prepare for a pretty lengthy blog today.)

Hello people of the internet. It's me, Kaz, your local enby who messed up so hard that they put themselves on the couch, only for my partner to come and get me and bring me to bed. Before you say anything, I know that that's also a strange way to start off a post that basically going to turn into a public self-shaming post, but try to trust me when I say that all of this will be explained in the next few minutes (well, hours for me. I don't exactly plan on sitting down and typing all of this out in one sitting.)

I'll start off by saying that I've been stressed lately. No job, places saying that they're hiring but not calling me back, the cost of living being diabolically bonkers, all of that. Doesn't help that while I'm at home applying for jobs and doing side hustles, my partner is pulling extra hours at its job to make sure that we don't drown in this capitalistic economy.

That's not the reason why I feel like everything's falling faster than a tower of Jenga blocks. The reason is because of one major flaw with my personal psychological programming and how I go about trying (and failing) to fix it. Man, this post sure is colorful today. Anyway, I have this...thing in my head that annoys me if there's information that's made apparent that I don't know or the possibility of an event that can happen. For example, if someone were to tell me "Hey, I'm planning a surprise for you.", it'll start to bother me to no end until I gather all the information needed figure out what that surprise could be, thus spoiling the surprise for myself in the process. Or, and this is the more relevant example, if there's something that I'm made aware could result in something bad happen, I, for some fucking reason, act upon my impulses and try to get that bad thing to happen. Usually, I'm stopped before said bad thing could happen and that usually calms me down for the time being.

Yes, it's just as infuriating as you're thinking it is, both of me and everyone around me. Yes, I have tried to control this impulses in the past. And yes, I have continuously failed to keep these impulses under control.

This time, this was different. I'm not going to go into exact detail of what happened, but I will alluded to the idea that I almost invoked a pretty bad situation that almost ended in property damage. Of course, as always, the chaos was halted. Yet, that doesn't make the situation magically better. I know, shocker. Above all of that, it was my significant other that had to calm everything down. I'm not gonna lie or try to justifying what most people would think and say "Oh, it was the autism making me do those things." That would be disrespectful to other people with autism and just blatant dishonesty. I will admit and say that those were conscious actions that I made of my own accord, me allowing and enabling the impulsive thoughts to (somewhat) win. This was a situation that didn't need to happen between the two of us, and now things are more than rocky.

Oh, and then get this! Yesterday afternoon, after being on no-talking terms for about a full day (Thursday night to Friday evening), we actually get to talk about what happen. Well, it was less both of us talking and it was more my partner talking and pointing out my bullshit and me just, well, taking it. I mean, I couldn't really refute anything that was being said to me. This wasn't the first time that I allowed my impulse to get the better of me, nor could I really apologize again cause, while it would be meaningful, I couldn't guarantee that this wouldn't happen again. I'm a person of chaos, advocate for the viewership of each and every possible outcome that can happen on a quantum scale, leaning more towards the good ones, yet the bad ones always pique my curiosity. So, with no other options in which I believed I could contribute to the conversation, you wanna take a shot in the dark as to what my next actions were?

I ran away. I'm not even kidding. Imagine the most brisk walk from a living room to an office on the other side of the apartment that you can, all while keeping my head down to avoid any further eye contact. ...Yeah. I did that. Willingly if I may add.

I know, 10/10. Amazing strategy there Kaz. Encore, please. But seriously, I don't know what the fuck I was thinking at the time and I still don't know now. My usual avoidance of conflict has basically turned into a fear of conflict at this point in my life. I mean, seriously, what was I thinking? Nothing's gonna get better by me hiding in my office. Even when I was done for the night and put myself on the couch, my partner realized I wasn't in bed and came to get me. I could've talked about it then. Hell, I could've said something, anything. Yet, I didn't. I just rolled over and went to bed, allowing the silence to go on ever longer. Again, what does that say about us? What does that say about me? Usually at this point in the relationship, one would be asking themselves whether they're becoming a burden to their partner, but is that a question I can even ask myself? Have I ever not been a burden to them? Am I becoming a burden to both of my partners? Like I said, I could've said the smallest thing, even a "good night", but I didn't. I just...laid there and fell asleep, probably making them think that I had just forgotten about everything or just didn't care.

I'm unpredictable. I'm loud when it comes to my chaotic ideas, Yet, I'm silent when it comes to apologizing. I'm confident when it comes to my aspirations, But timid when it comes to admitting I'm wrong. I'm constantly writing, constantly thinking, constantly typing out my ideas, words in which I'll write a million of to get my imaginations across, Yet I can't find the words when they matter most. ...the fuck's wrong with you Kameron?

I've got all these big ideas, these dreams, these ambitions of what I want my life to be, where I want to be, who I want to be with. I've written miles and miles of short stories, beginnings of novels, documents within documents of world-building. I'm able to do all this, but I can never seem to find the words when they're needed to be said.

How does one say that they're sorry when they've shown otherwise?

How do I get over these feelings about myself?

[187days]

Day Eighty-Three

Today was so weird. It's nearing the end of the semester, and usually that means students get super focused because they're trying to get their grades up. Instead, most of my freshmen lost all ability to focus because there's a storm coming and they might have a snow day tomorrow. And then there was a fight in the cafeteria, and they couldn't stop talking about that.

I did manage to teach a lesson, though! I had to stop to redirect students entirely too often, but I still made it happen.

First, I went over yesterday's assignment about different types of governments and economic systems. Then I showed them some maps indicating where those systems are found, and which countries are the most fragile. We also revisited a map they've seen before, which is the map of countries currently experiencing armed conflict. I backed up Mr. F's lessons without meaning to (but we will absolutely pretend I meant to, heh). He was teaching about correlation and causation; I was asking students to tell me whether there was a correlation between the type of government or economy a country had and its fragility (no), or a correlation between conflict and fragility (yes). So, y'know, that's some unintentional awesomeness right there.

In APGOV, I taught the last lesson I had to teach, which was about the media as a linkage institution. I'd been telling my students it'd be today (the remaining days are for working on their final projects, and taking one last vocab quiz and one last practice test), but it really sunk in when we wrapped up and I said we'd covered the whole AP curriculum (and then some). There was a collective "whoa," and a few smiles and nods of accomplishment.

After school, we had a faculty meeting. The Principal went over the expectations for remote learning (which we'll transition to after we have three snow days, if necessary), gave some updates about next year's budget, and then sent us off to various locations to meet in our advisory groups. Ninth grade advisors met in my classroom, so I ducked out quickly to get up there and get set up. Mr. N's reaction to that was to call me a wizard, which is COMPLETELY ACCURATE.

Heh.

We set our agenda for our PLC meeting on Thursday, and then- much like our students had been doing all day- talked about whether or now we're going to have school tomorrow. I said I wouldn't mind a snow day, or a delay, but I would mind having to drive into work in messy weather because I'm an awful driver. All my colleagues know this except the new ones. It got a laugh out of Mr. C, which- if you've been following along at home- is always a goal of mine. Life is better when folks think I'm funny!

[forabeatofadrum]

@cutestkilla replied to your post “Hello and happy Out of Touch Thursday! Thank you...”:

https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/what-is-spacetime-really-made-of/ COOL SHIT

Philosophy might be a bit of my personal hell atm but man I do love having these kind of discussions about broadly accepted fundamental concepts and whatever. And yes, I also love how it bleeds through in everyday life, including fic writing. Did you already read my Descartesian dualistic musings about the second epilogue of Time After Time? (I did consider mentioning your AO3 comment, since you called the place non-existence, which fascinated me, even then.)

I read through the article. I didn't really get it, but alas, I might reread it. My brain is fried after reading 4 academic articles today. But I find it so interesting, because as much as I am Struggling, I love my degree and that it's mainly because we as a group are all from a different academic background, which gives us our own perception on these ideas. And yesterday I was discussing the whole time thing and one person, let's call her F, comes from an astrophysics master's degree and she also said that this course challenges the way she's been taught to look at time. She also explained that she was taught that time exists as its own dimension, basically on top of our own. F explained it as if our dimension consists of x, y, z, that time is its own thing called a (or something). Just like this article, I couldn't fully follow F's story, because I don't even know what to imagine when talking about a dimension on top of our own reality/dimension, but yeah F just loved reading how Aristotle and Augustine do see it as a fundamental part of life, either through movement or through our soul.

And as your article points out, maybe we will never know. The clock, as we know it now, was standarised around the 14th century, so way after Aristotle and Augustine, but as Baz also shows in Time After Time: will our current ideas about the passing of time continue? What if philosophers of the future look back to the (what we call) 21st century, debating how "people back then had concepts like minutes and hours to measure time" in their discussion?

Wacky stuff.

[awsugar]

as a fellow 28 year old still living with her mom, i feel the struggle, my mom goes into my room whenever i leave and moves things around (idk) i'm so sorry you gotta deal w/your dad doing shit like that you, it's fucked up and not okay and i hope you can move into a better situation soon <3

im so sorry. he doesnt do it all the time but he does go in my room sometimes and specifically what happened this time was last week on thursday i had a bug infestation in my room and i had to take everything out. great opportunity to clean my wreck of a bedroom. i got rid of a ton of stuff and organized some things that had needed to be organized for ages. i had a ton of clothes on my floor though and they all need to go through the wash because there were ants and i dont think they were in my clothes like all over or anything because the clothes is not what they were attracted to but like im not putting any of that shit back into my room until i KNOW there are no bugs. so i did a few loads of wash but then i wasnt home at all all weekend, i was at work the rest of the days, and now i have two days off in a row. but basically i wasnt home in order to finish putting everything away that came out of my room. an ongoing problem i have at my dads house is that my bedroom is fucking SMALL and all of my stuff doesnt fit in it even though i want it to. so sometimes there are laundry baskets or other things that are out in the hallway/dining room (we live in a one floor condo). i do have a habit of not taking care of my stuff and letting things sit for a really long time. however, last week on thursday the things that my dad was like really fed up with i took care of. i had a package from my mom and a box of stuff from my bathroom that had been sitting in the dining room for months and i finally took care of it. so the stuff he was tired of looking at wasnt there anymore. i just had a few storage bins that came out of my room on thursday that were in the hallway and i planned on taking care of all that stuff today/tomorrow on my days off. but i came home yesterday and my dad told me that he had gone through both of my storage containers, decided what i needed and what i didnt need, threw away one of the containers, put a bunch of my stuff in a different storage bin that he wants to take to the basement, and then started like interrogating me on whether i needed a few books and a snow globe from my childhood that he had found. and i immediately got sooooo fucking angry!!!!!! because its not his place to go through my shit! and i told him as such i and told him how mad i was and that that wasnt his job and i didnt want him going through my things and we also had this argument again today and he is so fucking stubborn that its not clicking for some reason that im fgoing to be 29 in may (and i am desperate to move out and will be one way or another this year) and i dont deserve to have my dad violate my privacy and belongings by going through them and deciding what HE thinks that i need. and for me yes it is way worse that it is my dad doing this than it would be if it were my mom even though i would still dislike it. and he just says that based on the past that he knew i wasnt going to take care of those things and they woudl just sit there. but the fact is that it was my plan to finish taking care of it all on these two days off and he didnt even give me a WARNING. he didnt say like 'you have two days to take care of this stuff or i am going to do it myself' he just told me that he went through my shit when i got home from work because he assumed that i wouldnt. and no matter how many times i try to tell him how fucked up that is especially because i am a grown adult. he wont listen. and we just start yelling again. and its driving me fucking insane like. this has been the final straw with me living with him even though its been ruining my life since i had to move in here in 2020. sorry for the wall of text but i had to get it off my chest like ugh. i hate this. i wish i could move sooner. and im so so sorry you have to deal with similar shit. and thank you if anyone actually read all this lmfao

[howwelldoyouknowyourmoon]

Did Sun Myung Moon lie on the witness stand in federal court in May 1982?

▲ Sun Myung Moon with children from three different women. This photograph was taken on January 5, 1965 at the Chongpa-dong Church in Seoul. Sung-jin Moon, whose mother was Seon-gil Choi, is on the left. He was born in April 1946. Hee-jin Moon is on the right. He was born in Tokyo on August 17, 1955. His mother was Myung-hee Kim. The younger children in the photo are Ye-Jin and Hyo-Jin. They are standing in front of their mother, Hak Ja Han.

_____________________________________

Thursday, May 27, 1982

New York — The Rev. Sun Myung Moon refused yesterday to answer questions about the nature of what he claimed were “divine revelations” that enabled him to lead his followers, but he was ordered by a federal judge to answer other queries concerning the policies and practices of the controversial Unification Church that he heads.

Moon was subpoenaed to testify in the nonjury trial of a $9-million claim filed by one of his followers, Anthony Colombrito, 30, of Brick Town, N.J. Colombrito has charged that Galen Kelly of Kingston, N.Y., kidnaped him in 1979 and attempted to “deprogram” him from the teachings of the Unification Church.

Moon’s attorney, Charles Stillman, repeatedly tried to persuade U.S. District Court Judge Richard Owen, who is presiding over the trial, to allow Moon to invoke his Fifth Amendment right against self-incrimination and First Amendment rights concerning the separation of church and state.

Stillman argued that any such testimony could hamper the appeal of Moon’s conviction last week on federal tax evasion charges. However, Owen allowed Moon to invoke constitutional rights only nine times during his three hours on the witness stand and warned the 62-year-old Korean evangelist that he could be fined or imprisoned if he refused to answer questions the court ordered him to.

Owen let Moon refrain from answering questions about his ownership of the 50-foot pleasure yacht New Hope and about the frequency and nature of what Moon called “divine revelations” that enable him to make decisions about the Unification Church and the engagement and marriages of its members.

Kelly’s lawyer, John T. DeGraff Jr. of Albany, said he had subpoenaed Moon as a reluctant defense witness because he was trying to prove that the church was not a bona fide religion and that it used “brainwashing methods” to benefit Moon and his top aides.

“If it’s a sham then it’s not a religion, and if it’s not a religion, there is no church, and if there is no church I have no basis for appeal,” Stillman said of the possibility that Moon may be retried on the tax evasion case, which involved the question of whether certain money was tax-exempt church funds or Moon’s own.

Owen agreed and said Moon didn’t have to answer the question about revelations.

Moon did testify, however, that he was not the only one to receive “divine revelations.” He said most church members had them. “You have inspirations after you achieve a certain stage in religious faith,” he added.

Moon’s testimony marked the first time that he has appeared on an American witness stand since coming to the United States seven years ago. He did not testify at his own trial in U.S. District Court and left the country two days before he was to have been subpoenaed in May, 1977, by a congressional subcommittee probing possible links between Moon’s many holdings and the Korean CIA.

Joy Irvine, a spokeswoman for the church, said Moon had left the country to wed 200 couples in England. He returned one week after the subcommittee investigation was concluded and its subpoena powers abolished.

Earlier yesterday, Colombrito had asked to drop the charges against Kelly when it became apparent that Moon would be subpoened to testify. He said it was an “injustice” for Moon to testify and that he was dropping the suit “out of natural love for my spiritual parent.”

Owen, however, denied the request, noting that the Unification Church was picking up Colombrito’s legal tab and that Kelly had spent between $100,000 and $200,000 in legal fees. He said the church had a reputation of “resorting to harassing lawsuits” to discourage deprogrammers.

Colombrito filed the suit in 1979, charging that he was abducted from a Kingston parking lot at his parents’ request and asked to join a seven-day deprograming effort. At the time, Colombrito said, he was studying to qualify for a church program that would lead to his designation as a minister. His complaint alleges violations of his civil rights.

_____________________________________

The Boston Globe

Thursday, May 27, 1982

Under the threat of being jailed for contempt, Rev. Sun Myung Moon testified yesterday that he and other Unification Church leaders decide which members can marry and when they can have sex. “It is in accordance with the principles of our religion,” he testified in federal court.

_____________________________________

Tarrytown Daily News

Friday, May 28, 1982

A federal appeals court today approved the dismissal of a suit in which the Rev. Sun Myung Moon has testified that he met and talked with Jesus, Buddha and Moses.

The court said it would overturn a district court judge’s refusal to dismiss the suit if Moon’s Unification Church and the “Moonie” who filed the suit agreed never again to sue the defendant, “deprogrammer” Galen Kelly, whom they accused of kidnapping.

The church and the complainant, Anthony Colombrito, said they would agree.

Moon has been subjected to two days of questioning since Judge Richard Owen denied Colombrito’s attempt to dismiss his case for $9 million. Colombrito said he wanted to spare Moon from having to testify.

But the defense objected, saying the church was filing — and then dropping �� such suits to harass its opponents.

The defense, trying to show Moon’s church is a “sham” operated to enrich Moon and his aides, questioned the 62-year-old Korean evangelist about his faith.

He said Thursday, “I have the possibility of becoming the real messiah” although he did not actually call himself the messiah.

Prior to the appeals court’s intervention Thursday, John DeGraff had time to ask Moon about what the church leader said was his first conversation with Jesus on Easter in 1936 when he was 16 years old.

The question led to a stormy court argument that was settled when Moon said through a Korean interpreter:

“I am willing to answer that question. I met Jesus Christ.”

Under further questioning by DeGraff, Moon acknowledged also meeting and communicating on numerous occasions with Moses and Buddha.

Asked how he knew it was Jesus, Moon replied, “I remembered him from his holy picture and he said he was Jesus Christ.”

‘‘You not only talked to him? You saw him?” asked DeGraff. “And what did Jesus Christ say to you?”

“He requested me to help him in the salvation of the universe,” Moon said.

DeGraff also asked Moon over continued legal objections whether the Korean met and talked with Moses ‘‘about his relationship with Israel,” “his role as a messiah” and ‘‘the holy Bible.”

Moon testified he could not recall the first time he met Buddha but he estimated it was “several decades ago.”

When asked how he knew it was Buddha, Moon replied that Buddha identified himself and that he also “recognized him from Buddhas in temples.”

When pressed to tell how he communicated with the religious figures, Moon said it was partially carried out “in words” and “from heart to heart.”

DeGraff later touched off another controversy between lawyers when he asked Moon how many marriages and divorces he has gone through and if he had fathered more than the 13 children now in his family.

To overcome legal objections, DeGraff claimed that Moon and his current wife are represented under Unification Church doctrine as the “true parents” whose mission is to “help the restorations of man to his original status before the fall of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden.”

Owen permitted DeGraff to continue the questioning on grounds that if the church has “spiritual parents,” then “purity” was a factor in determining the sincerity of their religious beliefs.

Moon, whose Unification Church owns property in the towns of Greenburgh and New Castle, testified that he divorced his first wife in Korea in 1944 after he fathered two children by her. He indicated that the divorce resulted from a difference of religious views.

[Fact check: Moon divorced his first wife, Seon-gil Choi, in January 1957 according to official papers. He had ONE child with her, Sung Jin Moon born in 1946. He had a well-known illegitimate son, Hee-Jin Moon, with Myung-Hee Kim in August 1955. Another illegitimate child, daughter Dong-sook, was born in March 1955 – mother unknown. Dong-sook was announced as a “True Child’ by Hyung-Jin Sean Moon at his father’s funeral. In 1960 Sun Myung Moon proclaimed the Holy Wedding of the “True Parents” with Hak Ja Han. Moon had another illegitimate son with Annie Choi. Sam Park was born in January 1966 in Washington, DC.]

Asked if he married and divorced another Korean woman, Moon answered that he had never married the second woman. [There is evidence that Moon had a church wedding ceremony with Myung-hee Kim in Seoul on June 30, 1955 before he sent her off to Japan to give birth in Tokyo on August 17, 1955. Annie Choi has stated she had a secret wedding with Sun Myung Moon.]

▲ Myung-hee Kim with her son, Hee-Jin Moon, in about 1960 when he was taken away from her.

When asked if he had a son by the second woman, Moon replied, “Yes, I met her during the Korean War.”

However, the judge sustained objections to the question and it was not made clear if Moon had acknowledged that he had fathered a son by the woman.

Moon’s lawyer has expressed fear that his client’s testimony will incriminate him and hurt his chances to appeal his conviction [in] nine days on federal tax evasion [and document forgery] charges.

However, Judge Owen has contended that Moon’s testimony is important to the trial because it bears on whether the church is a bona fide religious organization.

He said one reason many young people join the Unification Church is because they believe in Moon’s conversations with Jesus, Buddha and Moses. If the conversations did not take place, the judge said, it is important to know.

_______________________________________

Philadelphia Inquirer

Friday, May 28, 1982

Although Mr. Moon was animated in his discussion of his religious beliefs, he became nearly inaudible when DeGraff asked him if he had fathered an illegitimate son.

“Do you have a son by her?” DeGraff asked, referring to the child’s mother, and Mr. Moon answered, “Yes, I met her during the Korean War.”

After the hearing, Mr. Moon’s personal lawyer, Charles Stillman, told reporters the religious leader flatly denied fathering an illegitimate son.

“I talked with Mr. Moon, and he said he knew the woman during the Korean War. He did not say he fathered the child, and he did not father an illegitimate child.”

_______________________________________

Sun Myung Moon claimed authority through his “meeting with Jesus”

The six ‘wives’ of Sun Myung Moon

Moon’s first wife, Choi Seon-gil, and Kim Deok-jin interviewed

Sun Myung Moon’s third wife – Kim Myung-hee

The lie that Kim Myung-hee was raped in Japan

Dong-sook, born in 1955 and listed as a ‘True Child’, was married to Sung-jin Moon

Mother Jones: Sun Myung Moon’s secret love child, Sam Park

[yuuana]

Music May 2023 #6: Ten - Birthday release: October 2022 genre: Kpop

Welcome to part two of two in the 2022 Birthday Song Adventure! Look, it's been a long week and that's the best I can do right now. Pretend we're having a fun and exciting adventure? For me? ^^;

So I'd noted yesterday's "Birthday" was the second of two. By the time of this "Birthday"s official release, Ten had already previewed a version of both it and a possible choreography as part of his time co-hosting/mentoring the show Great Dance Crew in China almost six months earlier - Leader TEN special stage "Birthday" - which both showcased his power as a dancer and ended up being far tamer than the official release choreography. But we'll get back to that in a minute. Perhaps unsurprisingly, between having two completely different writing teams and being written for very different artists, the songs don't sound anything alike. So the fact that they still end up having a sameness in underlying message - you're someone special, so let's make today all about you like it's your birthday - amuses me to no end. But where Red Velvet's song is a bass-heavy, brassy bubblegum pop party song, Ten's is a much slower, sensual groove that flows smoothly between his standard tone and falsetto with the same seeming ease as his dance moves.

Ten is rather famous for being a top-tier dancer in multiple styles, including contemporary and bboying, so it's hardly a surprise that the video spends most of its run time focused on him dancing. The sensual sounds of the song are complimented with a very physical dance routine that perhaps only a handful of dancers in the world could hope to match as Ten shows off his high level of mastery over his own body. What's easily missed by people who may not know better is the number of subtle ways he's playing with gender expression, combining costume elements that are both masculine-coded and feminine-coded to create styles that are entirely Ten. The stacked bangles, the veils, but also the bolero jacket and various chains. It's a whole sensual feast and I keep getting lost in it because the way he dance is, as always, art in motion.

"Birthday" is Ten's fourth SM Station single and available now wherever you prefer to do your Kpop streaming.

*This is another instance of genre being a bit of a thing - I settled on Kpop because TEN's most known for being an SM artist, but most of his activity is with WayV, NCT's Chinese subunit (he himself is Chinese diaspora via Thailand), while the song itself is entirely in English. Which is not unheard of in Kpop! But it is still a thing, so.... Want to sponsor a song selection? You sweet angel! For the low, low price of one (1) KoFi, I'll write up the song of your choice. ANY song of your choice. Yes, even that one that's been played to death. Yes, your obscure faves too. Sponsor a current CB for the next open Music Monday slot or sponsor a throwback for a Thursday feature! DW | Twitter | Mastodon | Ko-fi | Patreon | Discord | Twitch

[mile61]

- big boss and double big boss said on like monday that fieldworkers we’re going to be hourly instead of salary

- definitely benefits fieldworkers but i am no longer in the field but still classified as such

- chatted with the big boss the day after the meeting to express my concerns and reassess my title and position to be in line with what im doing now

- told im getting a 12% raise

- yes we can definitely discuss your position, you’re a valuable member of the team and we built a great team

- internal shocked pikachu face attempts to remember words bc I didn’t really realize that this entire district is run my my supervisor, me, and occasionally another architectural historian and we get compliments from the district on how efficiently we get things done

- wednesday (yesterday) i was officially accepted into my top choice graduate program and unofficially accepted to my third choice. the third choice also extended an offer to host me on their campus, have a face to face chat more in depth (than our 45 minute chat that was only slotted for 30 minutes bc we both have obscure experiences working on southern coastal islands and mutual acquaintances), and meet some current students and faculty

- external shocked pikachu face all day long because holy heck what is going on!!! last week was terrible for me personally but this week my career blossomed wow

- and that’s not all!

- one program I applied to isn’t doing the program anymore so I get my application fee back and that’s dope

- today (thursday) I gossiped with my supervisor when I told her I got into her alma mater and when we have our ‘water cooler’ chats we take at least 30 minutes but it’s wfh so like it’s company culture ok

- so we’re gossiping and I told her about the fieldworker thing, that I talked to big boss, and about the whole annual review thing. She was like “that’s crazy, you’re not in the field, you definitely shouldn’t lost your salaried position. I’ll talk to him about what to do for the review”

- the big boss called me at like 4:45 and said he had two pieces of good news for me. queue stunned silence and then “alright hit me with it”. “well first, you’re getting an end of the year bonus on your next paycheck. Its three months late but it’s there”

- I literally am so stunned into silence I had to force words out of my brain and into my mouth

- “also, you’re going to stay salaried in your position with your bonus. you were absolutely right and we want to keep you happy” WOW

- ( did my supervisor talk to him about this because I was just gossiping about company things like we do 😭 )

- tyty big boss he has no idea how much this job has impacted my life and truly transformed it and allowed me to grow into different interests that I’ve now been accepted to grad school for

- all because three people separately told me I should think about architectural history bc you make bank and apparently I’m quite good at it, picked up on it very easily, and would love it (they’re right, I do). two of those people wrote letters of recommendation for all eight schools I applied to

- im respected by my colleagues! I’m in demand! Grad schools want me to go there! I still have to hear from several other programs, but I think I know where I’m gonna go. I’ll be visiting two campuses at the end of this month probably!

- reality sets in that I’m financially stable for the first time in my life and I have options out there. I’ll move out of my hometown for good within the next five months. Lots to do in that amount of time!

- im in shock. I’m just thrilled. I lucked my way into this position by accident (in a literal, physical therapy filled way) and have just exceeded all expectations

- no matter what or where, I’ll be starting school and working full time advancing my dream career in august!!!

[ghostofhallownest]

everything everywhere all at once thoughts (NOT spoiler free)

i’m not a movie-goer. i think i’ve seen 3 total movies since 2020, including pre-pandemic, in theaters. before that, i only went if my friends wanted to go.

i went to see everything everywhere all at once due to a random retweet of a neil gaiman tweet from april 17 about how you should absolutely see this movie in theaters if at all possible, knowing nothing about it if given the chance. it leaves theaters near me on thursday, and there was a late-night showing yesterday, which is my favorite kind of showing to attend, so, hey. why not? um. 

bruh.

the core of everything everywhere all at once being, simultaneously: 1. one of the best visualizations of a queer kid’s mental health (the freaking bagel being built to hold the weight of everything she saw in the world so she could see if she “could finally die?” because she wanted the pain to stop?? her masking that pain constantly under a colorfully nihilistic exterior when it’s profoundly miserable to bear and she desperately hopes, in part, that someone [her mom] will face this “absolute truth” with her and show her a different way to view it/live it/bear it?) 2. one of my favorite depictions of the complex relationship between a child + their parents ive seen in visual media (”i love them, i want them to love me,they  hurt me trying to love and i hurt them back on purpose and i don’t know how to compromise to make this possible [because i haven’t realized compromise is even necessary]” going both ways); the fact that evelyn sincerely fucked up not just her relationships, but also the lives of her daughter + husband, and that despite that the consistent narrative thread through the whole of the movie is “im taking drastic action because you arent listening to anything else, but i just want us to talk“ 3. honestly the interwoven-ness of it all is part of what gives it its brilliance, that the evelyn we follow needs the perspectives of all these fragmented could-have-beens to broaden her own internal perspective, which allows her to reach out to her family and make the best of all of those paths for the life that she has. i also adore how well they portrayed the seductiveness of joy’s nihilism + depression bc!! yeah! that’s what it’s like! and how waymond’s core philosophy: yes, life is cruel, but i choose the beauty and the small joys and kindness anyway, because this world won’t make me hard, is consistently seen as weak and silly until, like...

honestly, i think that’s the hardest thing to do in this life. i think it’s a quiet resilience, but perhaps the strongest. + i adored that this movie seemed to agree. 4. the fact that even in her most “successful” lives, where if she’d done just one or two things differently the evelyn we follow knows she could have had all this---the fact that the movie takes the time to break down the difficulties that she has in these lives, or the joys in the ridiculous small lives; the fact that it’s always, no matter the measure of success, about the few glimpses where everything makes sense, and you’re never robbed of that no matter the size of the life you live if you’re willing to let those moments in...yeah. yeah. of course there’s so much more. the construction of the rock universe being voiceless, spoken in dialogue tags on the screen? i loved it. i also loved the font choice. the leitmotif in the fight scenes + the freaking hot dog universe with deirdre + at other junctures just. 

+++

after i saw the movie, i went to burger king because it was one of the few places open at 1am near me. i ordered, and as i pulled forward, i realized (panicking), that i...had completely left my wallet at home. so i don’t peel out of line, because, i dunno, that feels rude...there’s only one car in front of me, anyway. i pull forward, and sheepishly, apologetically explain that i don’t have my wallet, have a good night, i’m very sorry. “oh, hey, you just had the large fries and the chicken sandwich, right?” the manager gives me a kind smile. “here ya go. have a good night.”

alpha wang says he’s trying to bring the world back to Before, “how do we get back?” <to before all this mess, before we didn’t trust our neighbors, before we were so cruel to each other, before before before> and the answer, the dorky, clueless, lost wang provides: be kind first. even if you doubt there will be kindness given back.

[hockeywhy]

caught in the middle (1); m. barzal

SYNOPSIS: For the sake of your friend’s wedding with Tito, you and Mat agree to maintain the facade of still being the happy couple everyone sees you as. But the act comes with its consequences, one more taxing than the other. WARNINGS: language. WORD COUNT: 11.2k A/N: I am so excited for this because it contains some of the tropes I enjoy seeing in fics, and I was dying to also put out some new content as opposed to only reposting my old writing. I wish I wrote this when I was still decent at doing the thing, but I hope that this is still an enjoyable read that makes you look forward to the next part! Title is based off Alexander 23′s Caught in the Middle which is such a good song and I really recommend. Sections in italics represent flashbacks. 

PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

“We’re getting married!” 

You gasped, bringing both hands to cover the lower half of your face as your jaw dropped at the announcement. It shouldn’t be so surprising – you would’ve bet even your most prized possession that this was bound to happen at some point eventually – but knowing this was actually now a sure thing sent a thrill through you. It didn’t take long for the shock to wear off and in place of it, your expression mirrored that of your best friend’s: the wide grin, the bright eyes and of course, the giggles of sheer excitement as soon as the news sunk in. Elise was glowing and next to her, Tito embodied the idea of what the world’s proudest man would look like. 

“Oh my god!” you gasped, and Elise burst into laughter, not hesitating to jump out of her seat at the same time you did so that the two of you could embrace. Among your squeals and giggles, you could faintly make out the sound of hands being clapped, then caught sight of Mat and Tito hugging. Over Elise’s shoulder and over Tito’s, you and Mat exchanged smiles and you couldn’t help the chuckle that left your mouth as soon as he winked at you. “Congratulations!” you said as soon as you broke apart, though the two of you still held hands. Immediately, your gaze fell down to her hand where a ring now rested, and you couldn’t help but wonder how you hadn’t taken notice of it earlier. “Just—when? How? Where? Who else knows?” 

“We don’t have a date or venue set yet, but we wanted you and Mat to be the first to know,” Elise informed you as soon as you took your seats again.

“We have a favour to ask from both of you,” Tito supplied. As soon as he said it, you felt Mat’s hand wrap around your own and the two of you exchanged a brief look during which he squeezed your hand gently, before diverting your attentions back to the soon-to-be newlyweds. 

Newlyweds. The immensity of the word sent a discrete shiver down your spine. 

“I can’t imagine asking this of anyone else: I want you to be my best man,” Tito directed at Mat.

“You shouldn’t even think of asking this of anyone else,” Mat responded immediately, and the two shook hands on it. You couldn’t help but think that if they weren’t as comfortable as they were now, they’d probably hug again, do their typical pats on the back or fist bump as they usually did, but Elise’s head now rested on Tito’s shoulder and Mat’s hand was so warm, so firm atop your own. 

“Be my maid of honour, please?” Elise asked. “I can’t think of anyone more suitable than you and Mat as best man and maid of honour. We’ll return the favour of course,” she added playfully. 

“I’ll hold you to that,” you warned without hesitating because after all, you had no reason to – and you knew Mat would agree with you. 

Although the two of you hadn’t touched on the subject yet, there was an unvoiced knowledge shared between you that eventually, this would also be you. Eventually, Mat would ask you and your heart would grow and your soul would warm, and you would say yes. Yes, yes, yes. 

As you all settled down to hear a replay of how Tito popped the question and Elise accepted the ring, Mat’s thumb began caressing the back of your hand. Though the gesture wasn’t a novelty, you couldn’t help but take notice of the way your heart fluttered each time he seemed to linger more on your ring finger. It wasn’t difficult to imagine a ring wrapped around it but neither of you were in a rush: you simply waited for the right time to take your relationship to a point in which it would become a forever thing, fully confident it wasn’t a question of ‘if’ but rather, ‘when’.

*

This was anything but the right time. 

You frown as you cast a glance down at the phone resting on your lap, eyes narrowing a little at the name which brought the display to life for the second time in the space of less than a minute. You click the side button twice, silencing the vibrations of it and from your side, your colleague leans in to whisper to you. 

“You can take it if it’s urgent. I’ll fill you in afterwards.”

“Thanks,” you whisper back. “I think it can wait until the meeting wraps up though.” 

Luke gives you a well, if you’re sure look as he leaned back in his chair and you flash him a grateful smile. 

Still, it is difficult for you to settle comfortably in your seat again and much to your chagrin, you find yourself crossing and uncrossing your legs as if the call had sent some sort of signal to your entire body kickstarting jitteriness you can honestly do without. Not long after you find some comfort and energy to draw yourself back to the present, your phone buzzes again – only once this time, indicating a message. 

I’m waiting for you in the lobby.

Fuck, you curse inwardly, locking the phone in frustration. As quietly as you can, you gather your notebook and work tablet then lean in towards Luke who met you halfway. “Have to run but let me know if I miss anything important.”

“At the current rate, I wouldn’t count much on it but will do anyway,” he states as quietly as he can and the two of you exchange sly, conspiratorial smiles before you excuse yourself quickly and very quietly while making a swift exit. 

Internally, a string of curses follow without a break in between, and you have to physically bite down on your lip out of sheer fear one might unconsciously slip out. If anyone would be in your shoes, though, they wouldn’t blame you for it. You are the type of person to stick closely to any plans and agreements made, so the fact that he just chose to turn up so unexpectedly doesn’t sit right with you. Not anymore, that is. Besides, you had both agreed to do this after your workday ended as opposed to midday and definitely not in this place. Now, you have to brace yourself for coping with a foul mood on top of whatever else the rest of the day would throw at you. 

“You’ve got a visitor,” Rachel announces quietly in a sing-song voice from behind the reception desk as you approach. She doesn’t bother masking the giddiness in her tone and you struggle to work up as genuine of a smile as you can when she nods her head towards the waiting area.

“Thanks, Rach.”

“Bet he must be so happy your redeployment to the Baltimore offices was cut short so quickly,” she coos. 

“Sure is. We’re still on for tonight?” you ask quickly in an attempt to drive attention away from the subject before she can try to lead into it too far for your own comfort at the moment. 

Rachel’s smile falters a little, her expression somewhat quizzical. “Don’t you want to postpone so you could spend some time with him? You only just got back yesterday, after all.” 

You swallow uncomfortably before shrugging. “We’ve got plenty of time to do that. So tonight, okay? I’ll catch you later.” 

“Your call. See you then, Y/N!”

You only had just a split second to brace yourself for what is ahead of you, so you draw in a breath then slowly exhale it as discreetly as you can while cutting your way across the lobby. Since agreeing to this meeting, you prepared yourself as best as you could, imagining every single scenario and devising the appropriate plan for it: from the way you presented yourself to what you said, you had a mental plan for everything including a few backups just in case. The only thing you hadn’t factored in, apparently, was how little was under your control and you hated that. Each step you take made you feel less and less prepared for what is ahead, and the thought rattles you. If you were swift enough on your feet, you could just about make a quick turn and dip into the hallway leading to the visitor restrooms. All you need is just a few more seconds. A little alone time for you to run over your lines in your head. 

Except—

Mat looks up at the same time you take a step sideways, ready to bolt towards temporary safety. His eyebrows rise a little as if surprised by the sight of you, but you refuse to appear outwardly deflated by the turn of events. Instead, you square your shoulders, tip your head back a little and arch an eyebrow. You can do this. You note he is dressed casually, and his hair is pushed back underneath a black cap. 

Unless there was a change in schedule, Thursdays were scrimmage days. 

Your jaw clenches ever so slightly as you recall that with so much ease. Then again, you basically built up a collection of information that was practically helpful or useful to exactly no one over the course of the past few years. It’ll probably take just as much or maybe more to replace that with something different, so you try cutting yourself some slack whenever you are willing to.

“I thought we agreed on five thirty,” you state coolly, pitching your voice at just the right tone to also express surprise.

Mat pushes up from the armchair, returning whatever magazine he’d picked up back on the nearby glass table. “Sorry, I tried calling earlier this morning to ask if we can reschedule but it went straight to voicemail.” 

Oh. You mentally curse yourself for not charging your phone as soon as you made it home from the airport the previous night or bothering to check the voicemail message you’d been notified of once it did begin charging earlier this morning at your desk.

“They rescheduled the viewing of the new arena for this evening, and I was in the area, so I thought I’ll drop by just in case,” Mat continues, throwing a cursory glance around the place though to you, it seemed more like a way of having a break from the eye contact. You don’t complain; you welcome that. 

You open your mouth, ready to berate his poor timing but even you could admit you carry some fault here too. Only a little. You bite down lightly on the tip of your tongue, before nodding towards the seats though you didn’t wait for Mat; you sit, deciding he could make up his own mind if he wanted to follow or not. 

“How was Baltimore?” he asks after a few moments of awkward silence while settling in the same armchair he previously occupied. 

“Mat,” you say, hoping it comes across as more of a warning than a plea. You can’t deal with small talk and a part of you thinks that’d make the entire deal even more difficult to go through with. He presses his lips together into a thin line and you take that as your sign to continue. “Elise told me she’d like us to be at the venue a day in advance of the rehearsal dinner if we can. I’ve already arranged my leave for that, so it’s not a problem for me. I’m planning on making my way there sometime tomorrow afternoon.” 

“We can go together then. I can pick you up after work.” 

“There’s no need—”

“Y/N.” The sharpness of his tone catches you off guard and you can swear Mat was equally surprised by that, though only for the briefest of moments. He slides forward a little in the seat almost as if he is more than ready to leave but Mat has  never been one to back down so easily and you doubt any of that changed during the course of the past three months or so. “You were the one who insisted we go through with this and I’m trying. I really am, but you’re not giving me anything to work with. So please. Let’s just put everything to the side, do what we need to do and then it’s done.” 

Done. Like it is a task, like it is something you needed to cross off a to-do list, scrunch it up then trash it.  

The finality of the word is so heavy that it feels as if it had managed to knock out all the air in your lungs. You and Mat were running headfirst towards a fork in the road, and deep down you knew that was truly it. If until now the two of you have been dancing around each other, playing pretend as if you were kids living in a world of fantasy, you know that eventually, you have to let light shine on the truth: whatever lay ahead, you and Mat could no longer walk the same paths. It is just a matter of admitting it not only to yourselves, but also to the people you were lying to. 

Lying for, you prefer. 

Defeated, you slump in your own seat a little, legs crossing and fingers tapping lightly against the back of your notebook. “Be at my place by two. I’ll have everything that I need ready the night before so we won’t need to wait around.” A pause, and then, “how’s Tito?” 

Mat lifts a shoulder in a casual shrug. “Excited. Nervous. It’s the only thing he talks about in the locker, outside of it, on ice and off ice. How’s Elise?” 

“Same deal with her. I never knew there were so many shades of blue before, but I’ve been proven wrong before.”

A pause follows that could easily be attributed to the group of people rushing into the building and allowing noise from the street outside to filter in while the doors were kept open, but you can tell there is more to it than that if you are to go by the shift in Mat’s expression. His expression changes and you find you can’t quite read into it or guess what could be going on through his head. You try not to focus much on the little voice inside your mind that was bothered by it but find it takes a considerable amount of effort to do so. Force of habit, you conclude. 

“You don’t say,” Mat finally responds. There is a hint of accusation in his tone. Or regret. Maybe both.

Your lips press together firmly, a light frown forming on your face but chose to let that slide. Not only is the lobby of your workplace the least suitable place to have an argument about the two of you, but you find that even those short moments of seeing Mat face to face months after you called it quits appears to take a toll on you. You feel tired, worn out and willing to be the first one to back down for once. 

It is cruel irony that a big red neon EXIT sign is visible from the corner of your eye.

You release a quiet, long sigh then stand up from the seat. “Well, I guess we’re done here? I do have another meeting to prepare for, so…” You trail off, already backing away a few steps.

Mat opens his mouth as if ready to say something else but promptly presses his lips together, deciding against it. He gives a swift nod of his head then stands up. It’s then you notice the two Styrofoam cups in front of him and the neon EXIT sign imprinted in your mind starts flashing temptingly at you. Mat is a step ahead. He holds out one of the cups towards you and you are ready to tell him off for it, but he cut in.

“Thought I wouldn’t drop by empty handed.” When you don’t make a move to accept it, his eyes briefly peek behind you. “Rachel’s all eyes this way, by the way,” he informs you and a brief glance over your shoulder confirms Mat hasn’t been lying.

As soon as you turn to look towards the reception desk, Rachel grins, waves quickly at you then turns back to her computer screen. Begrudgingly, you accept the cup of coffee and force a tight smile. 

“See you soon,” you say by way of greeting and didn’t wait to hear a response from Mat. 

It isn’t until you scan your pass to cross the security barriers and make a turn out of sight that you take a sip from the drink and almost immediately wish you didn’t. It’s your order to a T. The two of you even brought a coffee machine that would let you replicate it on days when you didn’t feel like leaving the comforts of your apartment, especially days when Mat didn’t need to get up early for practices or scrimmages or evening games. It stayed with Mat when you left and the memory left a bitter taste in your mouth, despite the gentle sweetness of the beverage. 

Without thinking twice, you throw the cup in the nearest trash can. 

*

As soon as your order is set on the table, you ignore the basket of fries and reach straight for your glass to take a long sip from the straw, letting out a content sigh as soon as you felt satiated enough.

“Long day,” you state in response to Rachel’s raised eyebrows but she seems to accept that by raising her own glass. You clink yours against hers, take a smaller sip then set it back down on the table. “What time do you think you’ll make it over to the hotel?” 

“Well, I was thinking of trying to get there by midday on the day of the rehearsal dinner but it’s starting to look more like late afternoon. I’m…” She trails off, and you can just about pick up on her hesitation and the way her gaze shifts over to the side momentarily as if avoiding something or considering whether to continue that. You move in your seat, peeling your back away from the plush backrest to lean in a little closer.

“You’re…” you trail off, voice peaking just a little into a question in an attempt to prompt her to continue.

Rachel takes a deep breath in, shoulders visibly drooping and when she looked back at you, she did so with a look that could only reflect…shame? Embarrassment? 

“Luke and I are sort of thinking of coming along together.” At the sight of your widened eyes, she quickly adds, “just as friends! We’re still working out through a few things and we’re taking it slow. As in, much, much slower than the first time around.”

“No way! That’s… Rach, that’s so good. I’m happy for you both, seriously.” 

You find that you truly believed that, though it wasn’t a surprise to you. You had introduced Rachel to Luke while she visited you in Baltimore and at the time, he worked with you there also. Initially, you didn’t think much of it - you simply invited her to come along to a few after work drinks and the two kicked it off easily that night. Very easily apparently, because as the night started coming to an end, Rachel prompted you to go ahead without her. Ready to say you weren’t going to leave her own her own, you shortly found out exactly why: you watched with plenty of amusement and fascination as she and Luke climbed into a taxi together and whizzed off to his place, undoubtedly. That was pretty much their start and continuation. Her visits to Baltimore were more frequent and though you were seeing her often enough, it definitely wasn’t as much as Luke saw of her. And you were fine with that. They fit almost perfectly and it only took a few more meetings for them to label themselves as a couple. 

Things began crumbling as soon as Luke had moved to the New York office just a few weeks before your own return. While he seemed fine with the idea of Rachel working in the same place, that wasn’t also her take on things.

“It’s weird,” she told you through the phone. “It just… It’s so weird. I’d be seeing him at my place or his and in the office? No thanks. That’s way too much for me, you know?” 

It made sense, of course, and though you rooted for them, you didn’t want to push her into something she wasn’t comfortable with. Yet, there was a tremble to her voice, a sort of uncertainty that made you think otherwise. It wasn’t that Rachel didn’t have any feelings for him - maybe she was simply shocked to see him walk through those glass doors one morning to pick up his brand new ID and claim what would soon become his permanent desk across from yours. 

“Thanks,” she tells you, pulling you back into the present. “But like I said, slow and easy does it. We’ve been talking more and that makes a huge difference.” 

“For sure. If communication isn’t the backbone of a relationship, I don’t know what is,” you agree and wasn’t that ironic? You’re hardly in the position of giving any relationship advice at all or saying what is good for one and what isn’t. Not anymore. Not when your own had fallen apart. 

Rachel grins. “You’d know. You and Mat have been together for… how long now?” 

You should’ve seen it coming a mile away. You swallow uncomfortably, take another sip of your drink and take a few fries just to buy yourself a little more time. “Maybe four years? Don’t really keep track of that anymore,” you said as casually as you could muster, lifting your shoulders in a shrug. 

“I think I’d stop doing that eventually too at the rate you two are going. Honestly, I would’ve bet anything you would’ve been the first to tie the knot. Actually, thinking about it,” she says, clicking her fingers in recollection, “Elise said the same thing to me the other day when we caught up on the phone. She went—“

You don’t really register her words. There is a low ringing in your ears and an uncomfortable draft sweeps in the locale as the entrance door somewhere behind you is being kept open, no doubt a large group making their way in; it sends shivers down your body, but really, you are pretty sure you can’t only attribute them to a brief gust of wind. After all, your sweater is keeping you sufficiently cosy and warm. In front of you, Rachel continues praising your relationship with Mat, talking about how anyone took a look at you both and would say, whatever they have going, I want it too and you are trying so, so hard to block out as much as you can of it. You can stop her, of course; distract her with whatever random topic and you know she’d go with it but your jaw is locked in place, teeth clenched uncomfortably. You blame that and the way your nails dig into the palms of your hands on the sting behind your eyes and the sudden heaviness weighting down on your chest. 

It isn’t so much the pain of your relationship ending that was rendering you in a state of daze, but the shame of what you and Mat agreed to do: pretend the two of you were still the happy couple Elise, Tito and everyone else thought of you as just to not spoil whatever luck they thought you’d be passing on to them by being their main witnesses. And then, once the event passes and they would return to New York from the honeymoon you and Mat would soon gift to them on their wedding day, you’d tell them the truth. Or part of it anyway. Definitely no mentions that the two of you were childish enough to play pretend; just a simple, clean break timed just perfectly with your request to be permanently redeployed elsewhere. Preferably, as far from New York City as possible so that you no longer have to walk the streets you once both did or yearn to once again visit that perfect pie place the two of you once dubbed your own.

“We’re not together anymore.”

The words stumble out of your mouth in a desperate now or never manner. Despite the anxiousness that came with the act, you find relief in it also. It feels freeing to be able to admit the truth to someone that isn’t only yourself though perhaps you should’ve thought of this more carefully: the idea of now needing to come fully clean to Rachel is somewhat daunting, mostly because of what she might say in response to the front you and Mat are trying to uphold. But for the first time in what feels like too long, you no longer feel like a fraud; like a person lying to everyone around them.

“Wait.” Rachel frowns, and it was obvious she doesn’t quite know what to do with that information or how to best process it. Her head tilts a little, palm idly rubbing against the side of her neck so you take the initiative to come across as unbothered by this as possible by leaning into the seat, legs crossing as you fiddled with the drink’s straw. “What? I’m confused. Didn’t Mat just drop by earlier? You two seemed okay. He was…fine when he came in. We didn’t talk much, sure, but he was all smiley and just…normal.” 

You laugh quietly and shortly. “It’s been a while now. Maybe two or three weeks before I left for Baltimore, I think. It’d be pretty worrying if he was still hung up about it. After all, we both agreed on it. And this,” you add, a little more disheartened and embarrassed. “This…thing we’re doing. We promised Tito and Elise we’ll be there for them on their big day and we will. But they had this… I guess, idea of us being an ideal couple. Whatever that is,” you continue more quietly and with a roll of your eyes. “He wanted to tell Tito, but I didn’t want to spoil Elise’s day, you know? So he agreed. Took some convincing because it feels so… Gosh, it sounds so stupid, doesn’t it? Pretending we’re still together just to spread some fake cheer around.” 

“Oh, honey…” Rachel whispers and you read the sympathy in her voice. Not that she makes it particularly difficult to take note of. “But… I thought everything was okay. Actually, way more than okay. Perfect, even. What…uh—“ She trailed off awkwardly, but you could easily fill in that gap.

What happened?

You bring the beverage to your mouth, this time drinking from the glass directly as opposed to using the straw. The mixer stings your throat this time around but the small ice cube you take into your mouth numbs it away pretty quickly. Slowly, you chew it to small pieces and speak only when you finish it.

“I thought long and hard about this the first few weeks after we called it quits,” you admit. “We always talked about what bothered us or if there was something on our mind, but at one point we just… We stopped wanting to compromise. When I was put forward for Baltimore, it was going to be a permanent thing. Mat was happy, sure, but I could tell he wasn’t being entirely honest with me, you know? When I called him out on it, he asked me well what about us? And I said we’d be fine. Baltimore isn’t a different continent. It’s not even a different timezone. He could come over when he had free time and if he didn’t, I’d always spend weekends in New York anyway. It’s Baltimore, Rach. Not fucking San Francisco or whatever. Eventually, he told me exactly what was on his mind: he couldn’t do long distance. Not even for a short period of time while I figured out if Baltimore is really what I wanted. Isn’t it a bit hypocritical, though?” You question, but it’s clear Rachel feels a bit awkward about giving her take on it right now, so you make it easier for her by responding to your own question. “I felt lonely too when he was on the road. I was worried he’d find someone different, someone much better while away. He never gave me a reason to doubt him, but a small part of me still thought what if. This happened right before he was on the road again, actually. We didn’t call, barely even texted those weeks and then when he returned, we decided it’d be best to break up. Didn’t take us a long discussion to get to that conclusion because at that point, it just… I don’t know. It felt like we didn’t have much to say to each other.”

Rachel presses her lips together, the frown still on her face and hesitantly, she asks, “who said it first?”

“I did,” you respond without hesitating. “He wanted a break while we work it all out but come on, Rach, a break? Look me in the eyes and tell me people really believe in breaks and they come back to each other as if nothing happened.” 

“I mean…” she trails off, pointing at herself by way of explanation. “Look at me and Luke, I guess.”

You shake your head. “Nope. Not the same thing, trust me. This was for the best, Rach. It’s much neater to call it quits. That way, neither of us will feel obliged to hold back if life puts something different ahead of us.” You pause for a moment, teeth biting into your lower lip. “They said they’ll always have me back there if I decide on it, so who knows. Once I wrap up the project their called me back for, I might just take them up on it. Not quite a promotion, but it’ll be a good sidestep and maybe a change of scenery is what I need.”

“And do you think it’s good? What the two of you are doing right now?” Rachel questions, not at all deterred by your weak attempt at trying to divert conversation to a more work related topic. “And I don’t mean it just for Elise and Tito’s wedding, but for you and Mat generally speaking. I mean… the two of you have been together for a pretty long time. Doesn’t it… Isn’t it odd?” 

“It’s not normal, that’s for sure,” you confirm. “But it’d be weirder for everyone if we were to tell them we’re no longer together given we’ve been asked to do what we need to do. Rach, promise me this stays between us, okay? Promise. I know how it sounds, I know how it’ll look but trust me on this, okay?” 

She fixes you with a sceptical stare, a look that holds yet more questions than certainty but eventually, she nods her head and relief washes over you at the gesture. “I’m sorry it happened, Y/N,” she offers, voice warm and sympathetic as she places a hand on the table palm up. “And I’m sorry you went through it alone.”

You smile softly and reach for it, returning the squeeze she gives you. There is comfort in the gesture, comfort in her words and you find yourself rooting for it, so grateful to have received it. “The worst part is over, but thank you, Rachel. “It means a lot.”

“Feel like carpooling with Luke and I?”

“I’m good,” you assure as you both relax back into your seats. “Elise wants us there the day before the rehearsal. I guess just to have some familiar faces around that aren’t just wedding planners, so Mat and I agreed to go together tomorrow. Promise I won’t lose my shit if our song plays on the radio,” you add jokingly and find yourself laughing along with Rachel. 

“What song’s that?” 

Too many, you think, although one in particular stands out to you. “Brett Young’s In Case You Didn’t Know.”

*

A tray containing an assortment of dishes is set on the table and shortly after, an ice cold pitch of sangria accompanies that. Eager to cool down, you reach for one of the empty glasses to pour yourself a drink but Mat’s quicker. He takes them both, filling your glass first before his own. You laugh to yourself and Mat grins at that, briefly looking towards you as he fills his glass. You’re about to take a sip, eager to both quench your thirst and cool down but Mat takes the initiative of initiating a toast by raising his glass a little, elbow resting on the table. 

“What’re we toasting for tonight?” You ask, imitating his pose by leaning forward a little. “To our first holiday together? To how perfect the weather’s been so far? To how I mastered paddle boarding way before you did?” 

Mat laughs, lowering his head as he did so but when he looked back up at you, he clinked his glass against yours and held it there. “To all of that. To one of the many, many holidays we’ll have together. To this moment right here, to us, to you.” He pauses and the strobe lights of the bar switch from dark blue to hot pink, and the way Mat stares at you in this moment makes your heart race inexplicably. “To how much I love you.” 

He takes your breath away. Draws it right out of your lungs and you feel heady. It’s the first summer with Mat, the first  I love you from him and it suddenly feels as if this bar is too small for the both of you. You love him, and he loves you too and the only thing you could imagine doing is jumping in his arms but there’s a table between you and sangria topped wine glasses in your hands, and he’s wearing a pristine white shirt that looks incredible against his tanned skinned and there’s a lot of people around (the majority significantly older than both your age and Mat’s combined) so you simply grin and carefully lean forward more, pressing a kiss to his mouth. 

“I love you,” you murmur against his lips and even if your voice is low compared to the loud, cheesy country music blasting through hidden stereos, you know Mat catches on to that. 

“I love you,” he says right back and before you pull away, he bumps his nose against yours gently, making you giggle.

You both take a sip of your drinks and you smack your lips together, content with the turn of the night. 

You and Mat had been dating for a few months, but this was the first time the two of you will spend back to back nights and days together without needing to rush somewhere. Of course, a part of you was anxious about it - while it was easy to spend a few hours together now and then, maybe even the odd night together, it was entirely different being together pretty much all the time. There were habits and quirks you each had that might get in the way, but your worries were soon put to rest. You and Mat had wonderful chemistry together, easily able to spend your time together but also still enjoy each other’s company while doing separate activities. You didn’t want to rush into things and you made no move to do so, but it was ever so easy to imagine what living with Mat would be like. And sure, you were well aware of the fact that it wouldn’t always be sunshine and rainbows; the two of you would eventually transition out of this honeymoon-type period of your relationship, but something told you life would Mat would never bore you. It’d never make you wish for anything different. 

“Give me a second,” Mat says and before you could ask him what he meant, he’s out of his seat and you follow him across the bar, a little confused. 

He makes his way past the bar, past the pool tables and stops in front of what is undoubtedly a jukebox. Curious, you arch an eyebrow and watch as he fiddles with finding the right amount of change before inserting the coins in the slot. It takes him a while before he finds whatever song it is he wants and it takes enough time for him to make it back to your table before the jukebox and sound system registers the request. You don’t recognise the first few notes at all, much less the accompanying guitar strings but you don’t have time to search your memory for a title. 

Mat stops by your side, holding a hand out to you. “Dance with me.” It’s more statement than question and under any circumstances, you may have felt a little awkward about doing this, but it’s the heat of the moment and your giddiness that pushes you to your feet, hand in Mat’s. 

The two of you are beaten to an emptier area in the establishment by two other much older couples that were closer to it anyway, and you find that gives you a bit more of a boost also. Mat pulls you to him, wrapping one arm around your waist while holding on to your free hand while you hold on to his shoulder with the other. Your fingers lightly clench and unclench the soft material of his shirt, lowering your head a little and you smile against the back of your hand. It’s so painfully cheesy and there’s nowhere near enough other people dancing along to the song but you love it much more than you thought you ever would. 

“Know what I’d invest all my money into?” He asks you suddenly.

You pull back a little, still swaying along with the song. “Cryptocurrency seems like a safe bet right now.” 

Mat laughs, that big hearty laugh of his that makes your smile wider and when it passes, he presses a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Well, I’m glad one of us has a good head on their shoulders, but no.” He shakes his head, then laughs again, shorter and quieter as if recalling your response. “A time machine. I want to stop time right here and right now so that we can be as we are for a little while longer.”

“Cheesy,” you joke, despite the warmth coursing across your entire body and the jelly-like feeling forming in your knees. “But perfectly understandable.”

“Eventually, we wouldn’t need it, but it’d be nice to have one for tonight.”

“Eventually? How so?” You question, then narrow your eyes a little, the gesture playful. “You plan on getting bored of me and breaking up?” 

“What!” He exclaims and pulls you in just that much closer. He lets go of your hand only so he could bring his to your chin, tipping your head back a little. “Never,” kiss, “say that,” kiss, “again.” The final kiss you share with him is a little longer and you take the liberty of bringing your hand to his chest, palm pressing against it to feel the thump of his heart against his ribcage momentarily. Then, slowly, you graze the tips of your nails along his exposed collarbone and peck his lips once more before pulling away. It’s then that the song’s name and artist comes to your mind, almost as an afterthought. From hidden speakers, Brett Young declares I couldn’t live life without you and Mat gives you a pointed stare. “Damn, he said it before I could.” 

“It’s the thought that counts,” you assure him. “Either way, I think I prefer hearing it from you, Barzal.” 

“I’m pretty sure I couldn’t live without you,” he recites and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. He sways you both in a more exaggerated manner that makes you cling to him more out of habit than necessity. You’ve known you’d trust Mat with anything, but each day, he seems to do something that makes that thought solidify more and more in your mind. The comfort and safety that brings wraps around you like a warm blanket.

Be it the hot weather, the somewhat stifling interior of the bar, the sips of sangria on an empty stomach, the euphoria of the moment or all things combined, you nod quickly. And from somewhere in the depths of your mind, the very bottom of your heart, you respond with, “I can get used to this day after day. So don’t let me go, baby.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he whispers, tone full of care and love and warmth. He gives you his promise without hesitation and you know it’s bound to stick.

*

Your phone buzzes once. 

I’m downstairs. Need help with your bags?

You push up from the comfort of your couch and make one last round of your apartment to make sure you had everything you definitely needed from where it was placed. 

I’m good. Will be down in a minute, you text back but don’t pocket your phone right away. Instead, you stare at the screen for a little while longer, half tempted to scroll through the thread of messages. They’d provide a stark timeline of when things started going wrong and you would probably be able to see exactly how things changed between the two of you from the moment you suggested a mere break wouldn’t do it. But doing that would be like breaking a streak you had going for sufficient time to earn a pat on your back. The journey of getting to a point where you were sufficiently okay with being in Mat’s presence without any other company was a long one and the last thing you needed was to recall how it once was. 

You and Mat started out as friends after Elise introduced the two of you just a short while before he started his professional career with the Islanders. She talked about how the two of them met in school and how great of a guy he was; real down to earth, funny and incredibly ambitious - traits she also assigned to you, and therefore thought the two of you would get along great. She wasn’t wrong about it. You knew a little about hockey, going to games every now and then mostly whenever Elise dragged you along but you found that Mat made the game more enjoyable. He explained it to you in a manner that didn’t make you feel belittled or as if it should be something you already knew of, and didn’t mind explaining some things more than once. On the other hand, you introduced him to your own hobbies and the little world you created for yourself in a city as big and busy as New York. You showed him the more lowkey but homely establishments, including your favourite pizza place that - unbeknown to you at the time - would become yours and his, and even took him to a few student bars where you regularly beat him at pool while he showed off at darts. Occasionally, it felt weird to watch him unwind in such…normal places and ways while on other days, he shone on ice and was easily one of the best rookies emerging from one of the country’s most well known sports leagues. Yet despite that, you found that athlete Mat wasn’t all that different from Mat the person.

He never put a front and his genuine manner was refreshing to you, particularly during a time when you were still a college student and a good portion of the guys around were textbook frat boys. Being around Mat was comfortable and safe. You didn’t feel the need to speak a certain way or be a different person, and retrospectively, the way you felt towards him developed almost organically. You felt yourself gravitating towards him and were pleasantly surprised by the moments when he’d seek you out first. A day off here and a day off there until eventually, you found yourself spending much of your free time with him and vice-versa. 

Falling in love with Mat was easy. Being without Mat was difficult. But, thankfully, not impossible apparently. 

Convinced you packed everything you needed, made your way out with a duffle bag on your shoulder and a suitcase at your heels. 

True to his word, Mat was parked in front of your place and as soon as you pushed open the building’s door, he looked up from his phone and made his way over to you. The last thing you needed was to make the journey any more awkward or difficult for the both of you, so you didn’t argue when he took the bags from you to stow them away in the trunk. 

“Are you going across the country?” You ask, peeking into the trunk while he plays Tetris with the bags. 

“What?” He questions, evidently distracted by the task at hand but straightens up when you delicately place a hand on his arm, pushing him to the side a little. 

“You’d think you’re going across the country for like, two or three weeks rather than a couple of days,” you repeat. “Maybe put that smaller bag sideways? That might let the bigger suitcase fit.” 

He follows your guidance and sure enough, that does the trick: the suitcases fit perfectly in the trunk and you grin to yourself, triumphant. 

Mat steps back, closing the trunk and brushes his hands together. “Thanks,” he says and you nod, heading towards your seat in the front. He follows you inside just as you click in your seatbelt. “I don’t think it’ll take us more than two or three hours to get there if traffic’s as good as it was when I checked it a little while earlier. Got everything?” 

“Everything important that is. Everything else, I’ll just worry about and pull my hair out when we get there,” you tell him and you can’t help feeling proud for being able to keep conversation light and as normal as you can. 

After all, you’ve known life before Mat and you’re rediscovering it after him too. 

Mat laughs ever so quiet, and from the corner of your eye, you catch him brushing his hand across his mouth though he’s a few seconds too slow in trying to mask his smile. 

“I think I’ll need to fill up soon, but let me know if there’s anywhere else you want to stop along the way,” he tells you while pulling out of the parking spot. 

You nod even if he probably might not see it and take the liberty to scroll through radio stations. Mat doesn’t seem to be against it, so you continue switching to them until, a little frustrating that nothing seems to work for you, you connect your phone to the car and play one of your playlists. A mix of upbeat pop and an assortment of viral tracks fill in the silence for a while, and the act of singing along in your head takes your mind away from how it almost feels as if you’re sitting on needles. It takes a conscious effort on your behalf to remind yourself to loosen your shoulders and stop fiddling too much with your hands, and you’re glad Mat seems to be plenty preoccupied with driving. Once upon a time, he would’ve immediately picked up on even the most mild of your discomforts and tried to do anything he could to alleviate them. You don’t know how much, if at all, Mat changed during the time you spent apart but you want to think that you no longer wear your heart on your sleeve as much and your emotions are much more guarded, especially in his presence. 

Apparently, though, there’s only so much he can take with silence filled in by music because once he’s off busier streets, he leans in his seat more comfortably and you can tell he very briefly turns his head towards you. “Think they’ll like their wedding gift?” 

You direct your gaze away from the flashing scenery outside to Mat. “Absolutely. Who wouldn’t like it? Trust me when I say Bali’s been a place Elise always wanted to visit and I can’t think of a better time than now,” you assure him.

“If they don’t, it’s on you,” he says and it takes you a beat longer to realise he’s just joking so you huff out a laugh, relaxing back in the seat. 

“If they don’t, they can give one of the tickets to me and I’ll happily go there.” You cast a glare out at the scenery ahead, eyes narrowing upwards towards the overcast sky. “I don’t think summer will ever come at this rate. I’m starting to hate it here.”

“Doubt Baltimore was any better,” Mat points out.

“Hardly,” you sigh. “Maybe I’ll ask them to send me to Miami instead. That’d be much better.” 

Mat clears his throat quickly, shifting a little. “So, are you planning on going back to Baltimore or... Why are you back?” You catch sight of the frown forming on his face, and he quickly shakes his head as if trying to rid the hint of accusation from his voice. “That sounded wrong, sorry. But just genuinely curious. I thought a permanent move was on the table?”

“It was. Still is, but they needed me back here to wrap up a project. It was a pretty bad move on their behalf to send me there before we had that wrapped up nice and neat, bow and all, but I guess…” You trail off, shrugging a shoulder. “Guess we’ll see what’s next after that. They do want me back there, though. It just depends how long it takes for things here to fall into place.” 

“Fair enough.” Another pause, another moment for him to press his lips together in silent deliberation. He did that often, and you wonder if that remains a habit still. “Was it a promotion? I forgot, sorry.” 

“All good,” you assure, brushing off the apology. “Not a promotion per se, but a sidestep with just a slightly bigger paycheck. The office there is a bit smaller than the New York one so maybe there’s a higher chance of getting promoted sooner, but I don’t want to jump the gun on that yet. How did things work out for you guys this season?” 

The Islanders had a good season, making the playoffs but fell just short of making the semi-finals, you knew that. After all, you hadn’t removed the Islanders game and news alerts from your phone and you put that on your laziness. You wouldn’t shy away from admitting to him you still followed the team’s progression, but you preferred not to. 

“Could’ve been better but there’s lots to learn from it,” Mat tells you and there’s a trace of excitement and determination in his voice. “Next season will be even better, I guarantee.” 

It’s a staple Mat response, one he always gave if he felt a game didn’t end in their favour or he didn’t do as much as he thought he should have. Sometimes, it took him some time to accept it. Usually, it came to him after pushing himself in training, after going that extra step in the gym, after re-watching highlights or coach videos and always - always, you’d assure him that it takes a team to move forward, not a single person. Always, he’d kiss you and tell you he loves you and always, you’d spend those moments wrapped up in each other’s arms, more often than not with Mat’s head resting against your chest and your leg slung around his hip. 

“Plenty of time to lift that cup, Barzal,” you assure him. “Sure, the sooner the better but there’s always a right time for everything.”

“I hope so,” he agrees pensively, and lingers on that thought. 

You let him to it, directing your attention back to the view outside and only now and then picking up your phone either to switch songs or browse through a few applications. A part of you feels almost obliged to try and push for conversation but you avoid doing so. The last thing you need is to make it painfully awkward for the two of you and you figure Mat could always do that himself if he feels like it. So, you let your mind wander to better things - to the upcoming rehearsal and the wedding itself, to how good Elise will look and how Tito will be so proud to watch her walk the aisle towards him. You imagine their reaction to the gift you and Mat contributed towards and smiled to yourself, knowing it was a perfect pick for them both. 

You don’t think about telling Elise you and Mat had lied to them. You don’t think about passing this hurdle - the final one before you two will become strangers to one another. You don’t think about how the next time you might both see each other again, you’ll both have such different lives that for a brief moment, the surprise of it will knock the air out of your lungs before you remember: that’s him without me, and this is me without him. And you won’t be the first or the last people to break up, but a part of you is certain what the two of you had was unique and could’ve been grand. So much grander.

You become more alert to your surroundings when he starts slowing the car and you notice you’re pulling up into a gas station. As much as space allows you, you stretch out a little and Mat stops right by one of the pumps.

“Want something for the road?” You ask him, unplugging your phone and taking your card from your bag. 

“Hold on, I’ll come with you,” Mat tells you and it doesn’t take long for the refill to happen before you both walk into the station’s store, beelining for the snack aisles even if you have only two hours or so until you reach your destination. 

“Oh gosh, those are going to be a nightmare to clean up if you spill any in the car,” you groan quietly as he browses through the variety of Nerds flavours. 

“But they’re so good though,” he shoots back and flashes a smile that is nothing short of sly when he picks up two boxes instead of one. 

“Yeah, until the flavour runs out literally two seconds after you put them in your mouth. I mean, enjoy that but I’m different,” you boast and pick up a bag of sour candy. 

“You just like obliterating your taste buds.” 

He’s not wrong. Sour candy and spicy foods are your guilty pleasures, and have been for the longest time. You don’t try to look into how easily he recalls that because, you tell yourself, there’s nothing to look into. It’s a mere fact that anyone who knows you would easily recite. 

“You’re wrong and you know it, but admitting that is difficult so it’s fine, Barzal. No hard feelings,” you throw back, snickering as you head over to the fridges for a bottle of cold water. Instinctively, you grab another for him and instinctively, he takes your candy and the water to pay for them but you still tag along with him in the queue. 

“No shot. I like some spice but to the point where I literally can’t taste anything else? Hey, remember that one time when you made something… Can’t remember what it was but it was so…” He purses his lips and you laugh because yes, yes you remember it so clearly. 

“So good you ended up crying over it?” You offer. 

“More like, I wasn’t crying but it was so fucking spicy, Y/N, holy.” 

“You survived though, didn’t you?”

“I only did because there isn’t a thing you do I don’t like,” he says and then, seems to catch himself but a second too late. “Didn’t like,” he corrects quietly but the damage is done. 

You swallow uncomfortably, directing your gaze away from him but don’t hesitate to nod towards the outside. “I’ll head over to the car. I’ll text Elise to tell her we’re close.” 

“Y/N—“ 

But you’re already taking steps towards the exit and out of ear shot, making a beeline for the car. Your heart thumps rapidly and uncomfortable in your chest and find that pressing a palm to your left side doesn’t make it any better. You know it’s an innocent mistake and there are some habits that die hard, but the way he phrased it triggered your fight or flight instinct instantaneously and despite yourself, you leaned towards the latter. You enter the car and take the time to compose yourself as much as you could. The last thing you need is to have a conversation with Mat about this because you didn’t want to have it - it shouldn’t happen for the sake of avoiding making the situation even more uncomfortable. It was an innocent slip up, no doubt, and you should’ve braced yourself to speak of Mat in present tense as opposed to past tense in the presence of others but it comes to you harder than imagined. 

It’s odd how you both once knew so much about each other, everything even, and now the two of you are reduced to dancing around all that and making conscious efforts to keep your conversations as short and banal as possible. 

You try and busy yourself with formulating a message to Ellie, one that’s long enough to try and make you seem as busy as possible by the time Mat returns to the car, but every line you wrote, every mini paragraph going into dull details about the trip and where you guys currently are seemed like an overthrow. So, you delete that also and simply text her an OTW just as Mat sets the sweets on the centre console and the bottles in the cup holders. 

He doesn’t start the engine immediately and your mood quickly switches to frustration. Sure, you hadn’t handled it in the best way possible but trying to have a conversation about it wouldn’t make it any better. Or at least, it’s just something you didn’t want to have to think about for the remainder of the journey. 

But he does just that, because that is what Mat always did: he talked with you.

“I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable,” he begins, “I didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did. It’s force of habit more than anything else.”

“It’s whatever, Mat, so just move past it. I did, simple as that,” you tell him neutrally. 

There’s something in that response he must have not liked because you pick up on his small huff and shortly after, the car starts and you’re both on the road again. This time, with silence between you and an atmosphere so heavy it makes you wish you weren’t speeding down an Interstate just so you could open the window and let some of the air in.

-

The hotel the wedding will be held at lies in front of you, sprawling and secluded and perfect for an event like this. Tito is already at the entrance and when he spots Mat’s car, he waves quickly while Mat quickly flashes the headlights before pulling into an available parking spot.

“There they are!” Tito says by way of greeting and you walk right into his outstretched arms, hugging him. “Can’t believe so much time passed since we last saw each other. What is it, two months? Three?” 

“Three,” you confirm once you pull away so that Mat could hug him also. “It’s good to see you too. Where’s Elise?” 

“She wanted to check on some small details and said she’ll meet up with you guys in a bit. So here I am, the welcoming committee,” Tito explained and when he and Mat stepped apart, he reached out to give you another short hug which you accepted. “So how was Baltimore? Don’t suppose you liked it all that much if you’re back so soon. This guy was happy about it,” Tito adds, nodding his head towards Mat who was already busy emptying the trunk. 

You press your lips together, displaying a small smile. “Baltimore wasn’t too bad but they missed me here, apparently. Can’t complete a damn thing without my two cents so here I am for now.”

Tito frowns, but the expression is very brief. “For now? We’ll need to talk more about that later so Barzy doesn’t mope around as much as he did back then.”

You throw a quick glance towards Mat but he’s looking away towards whatever interesting spot on the ground he found, pointedly ignoring you. “I’ll have a word with him about it later,” you tell Tito lightly and together, the three of you make your way inside, towards the reception. 

“I think Elise is in the room at the end of the corridor if you want to say hi,” Tito informs you and you jump at the opportunity. 

You follow the corridor, making a right turn and continuing along the dimly lit hallway leading to what the signs informed you to be Conference Room 1. The door is slightly ajar and you begin picking up on the buzz of activity coming from within and soon enough, you’re face to face with a spacey room boasting an array of flowers and various arrangements tastefully decorating tables and drooping down from the ceiling. No doubt, the effect will be lovely during the night when colourful neon lights can be turned on. You spot Elise easily: she’s in the midst of the room with what is undoubtedly the scrapbook of ideas she’d been carefully putting together since Tito asked her to marry him. Outwardly, she’s all smiles and laughter but you can imagine the amount of effort and planning putting all of this together and working with planners takes. 

When she spots you, she squeals in excitement, sets her book down and dashes across the room to engulf you in a hug, making you stumble a few steps back. 

You burst into laughter and wrap your arms around her, squeezing her with just enough force to try and communicate how much you missed her but not so that it was uncomfortable. 

“I missed you! You’re here!” She exclaims, stepping back to look at you in disbelief then hugging you again. “Oh my gosh, I’m so happy you’re here! Where’s Mat? Is he here too?”

“Of course he is,” you assure her with a laugh. “I missed you too.” You throw a curious glance towards the room over her shoulder, nodding your head towards it. “How’s it going? Need me to take over for a bit?” 

“Maybe later. Definitely later. Come on.” She wraps an arm around yours and leads the way out of the room, undoubtedly back to the reception area where you left Mat and Tito. “Please tell me Baltimore is off the table. FaceTime is fine, sure, but it’s not great, you know? I need the real deal next to me. Besides, I’m not sure if you heard, but Mat wasn’t Mat without you.”

“So I heard, but forget about us!” You said in a desperate attempt to try and steer attention away from the subject. “Tell me about how everything’s going. Are you still nervous about it? Because trust me, Elise - you have absolutely nothing to be nervous of. What I’ve heard of so far and what I’ve seen will make it the absolute best day, surely.”

“Of course I’m nervous,” she tells you and to demonstrate, she holds her free hand in front of you and sure enough, there’s just a slight tremble to it. “Please lend me some of those nerves of steel of yours, Y/N, I’d do anything to have even a small percentage of them right now.”

“Pft, as if. Those are all show, trust me.” 

“I’ll take even that. Oh, Mat!” She greets as soon as the two of you reach the reception area and Elise spots Mat.

Much like you and Tito, they hug and when she steps back, she immediately stands next to Tito who doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. They exchange a quick kiss and you smile at the happiness and bliss they’re clearly surrounded by. 

It’s the slight pressure on your lower back that makes you jolt a little on the spot and it’s then you realise Mat had gently placed his hand there to encourage you a little closer. It takes effort on your behalf to follow his guidance but you move towards him, though you wish you could physically wince at how undoubtedly stiff the two of you must look. Or hopefully, not greatly so because neither Tito nor Elise comment on it or shoot you any funny looks as the four of you engage in brief conversation, mainly surrounding the trip here and any other guests they expect to receive today. 

You don’t hang around much, though. Elise’s phone begins buzzing incessantly and she’s whisked away by the message received, but not before she fixes you with a pointed stare and demands the two of you have drinks later in the evening. Tito follows her also, even if he informs you and Mat that he feels as if he’s running around in the right places only because of Elise and the wedding planners, but you encourage him on by joking he could maybe turn a few candles on the tables this way or that for some extra oomph. 

“I can’t imagine how she does it,” you admit to Mat once the elevator doors slide shut soundlessly and the car begins moving upwards to your floor.

“Pretty sure it’s not that big of a deal to her, given what all this is leading to,” Mat tells you and you detect a hint of detachment in his voice. 

You don’t welcome it, of course you don’t, but you choose to not point that out to him. The last thing you want is an argument to break out the relatively okay mood the two of you have managed to hold, recent events that could be erased from memory aside. Instead, you simply stand back quietly, eyes glued on the red digital numbers aside until they come to a halt on the ninth floor where the elevator stops and you’re both left in a silent, dimly lit hallway. 

Mat has the key to the apartment Elise told you the two of you would be in and just before tapping in, he hands you your own copy of it. Up until this very moment, you hadn’t thought very much of the overnight arrangements. You were pretty sure you meant to ask Elise a bit more about them at some point but both your attention and hers were pulled in different directions and here you were, stepping into your place for the next couple of nights, Mat trailing a little behind you. 

You stop, arms folding across your chest and you feel Mat stop somewhere close behind you, looking into one room.

“I didn’t think this through,” you state neutrally. 

Ahead of you lay only one bed.