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lauras-collection · 3 years

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✮ electric love | part 1 ✮

Harrison Osterfield x fem!reader | fwb!roommates au

|| Masterlist || Series Masterlist ||

Summary: Living with your best friends Tom and Harrison is all fun and games until one drunken night alone with Harrison, you give in to your attraction to him. You tell yourself you should leave it at that, forget about the night you spent with him and move on to not ruin your friendship, but neither of you can stay away from each other. So without considering the possible consequences, you make a deal. But how are you supposed to keep your shenanigans from Tom? And how are you supposed to not break the number one rule of an arrangement like this: do not fall in love.

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: SMUT 18+ [protected sex, drunk sex], alcohol consumption and being drunk, reader and Haz being horny idiots? (this kinda goes for the whole series lmao)

A/N: Ahhh I'm so excited for this (mini) series!! I hope you guys like it!

Feedback is always appreciated ❤️

Growing up, your dream was to go to university and have the time of your life with your best friends. It wasn’t until about a year ago that that dream started to become a reality. You and your best friends Tom and Harrison all got accepted to the same university. A university all three of you had dreamed of going to for years. So without having to think twice about it, you registered for the fall semester and started looking for a flat together.

You’d had countless sleepovers with the two boys, and went on holiday together, so you had an idea of what you were signing up for moving in with them. They weren’t neat freaks but knew how to keep a place clean. That was all you were asking for. No way were you going to be their maid and clean up after them.

What you weren’t prepared for, however, was that the harmless attraction you had felt towards Harrison for a while now got increasingly more prominent. Yours and Harrison’s friendship and the way you interact with each other had always been flirty. But ever since your final months in school you’d been a little confused by your feelings towards Harrison. You never did anything to explore those feelings, though. He’s your best friend, and there are always consequences when you cross that line with a friend. You told yourself it’s just a phase.

Anyway, living with Harrison presented itself as more of a challenge than initially anticipated. The guy has no shame running around the flat half-naked. Neither does Tom, but that doesn’t affect you in the way that it does with Harrison. Both of them are attractive, yes, but your belly does somersaults whenever you get the slightest view of Harrison’s naked skin. You hate it. And you start to wonder if moving in with him was as good of an idea as you thought.

Besides the inner turmoil, you’ve honestly gotten used to over the past couple of months, living with Tom and Harrison is a blast. You always have someone to talk to, to vent about how annoying uni homework can be, and always someone to cheer you up at the end of a stressful day.

Whenever one of the three of you is down, the other two are always there to make it better.

Tom had taken up a bartending job a couple weeks into the first semester, which ended up being beneficial to all of you. For Tom, the obvious benefit was earning money, for you and Harrison, it was discounted drinks. The pub he worked at quickly became your go-to spot even when Tom wasn’t working.

Right now, however, Tom was working and you and Harrison didn’t feel like going out. There’s no party or at least none that you are interested in going to, so you decide to throw your own little private party. And by private you mean no guests, you couldn’t be bothered to clean up after dozens of people who don't give a crap what they keep lying around.

Plus, both of you had a stressful week with tests and deadlines, and you’re looking forward to just chill for a bit. Harrison got the booze, and you took care of the snacks and movies, so now you’re sitting on the couch watching one of the most ridiculous horror films you’ve ever seen while guzzling down one can of cider after the other.

"Oh my gosh, no! Don’t go in there!” You shout at the TV, not that it makes any type of difference. “And he went in there. And now he’s dead.” You say matter of factly, causing Harrison to laugh.

“He’s not dead yet.” He points out, but it doesn’t take long for the music to get more intense. And ten seconds later, the guy on screen is, indeed, dead. You give Harrison a look, but he just keeps laughing.

“Why are people in horror films always so stupid? Wouldn’t it be much scarier if they were super smart and always did the right thing and end up getting killed anyway?”

“But then you wouldn’t be shouting at the TV. Don’t you think it’s kind of cathartic?” Harrison asks with a raised brow, “Honestly, I feel like you’re bottling up all your frustrations and then let them all out when we’re watching horror films.” You can see the amusement in his face, and all you can do is roll your eyes.

“Shut up.” You throw a pillow at him, which he, unfortunately, catches. Watching bad horror films was sort of your and Harrison’s thing. Tom wasn’t really a fan of them, so whenever he was gone, it was an unspoken rule that you and Harrison would be watching a horror movie that evening. There might be a limited amount of good horror movies, but for every good one, there were at least fifty bad ones.

“You want another drink?” Harrison asks as he gently moves your feet out of his lap and gets up from the sofa. He picks your empty can up from the coffee table and takes it to the kitchen along with his own empty can of beer.

“Yes, please!” You call after him even though your living area is an open space, so you can still see him as he opens the fridge. “There's only so much I can take while being sober.”

“You’ve already had two drinks, there’s no way you’re still sober.” Harrison chuckles, plopping down on the sofa next to you before handing you a new can of cider.

You make an undistinguishable noise as you open the can and take a sip.

An hour later, you’re both proper drunk. The movie has long since been over, but neither of you have been bothered to turn off the TV or put on a different movie. Harrison is slouched next to you, his arm loosely thrown over your shoulder, his fingers playing with your hair as he watches you intently while you try to explain to him why you think that one of your professors is actually working undercover for the MI6.

"It makes complete sense! Why else would he be late and unprepared all the time, huh?"

Harrison just raises his eyebrows “Maybe he doesn’t take his job very seriously?”

“No, he takes his job too seriously. Because he’s a secret agent for MI6 and spends his whole time fighting the bad guys instead of preparing his lessons!”

“But didn’t you say he’s undercover? Why would he neglect his teaching if that’s part of his job for MI6?”

“Shhhh” You shush him, placing your pointer finger over his lips “Don’t question my logic”

Harrison gently wraps his hand around yours to pull it away from his mouth.

“I’m sorry to say this, but there isn’t much logic behind that theory, love.”

“You’re mean” You push your bottom lip forward in a pout.

“I’m not! I’m just stating facts here” He’s still holding your hand in his and you’re suddenly hyper-aware of every inch of your skin that’s touching his. So in an attempt to stop the shivers running down your spine, you try to pull your hand out of his hold, but his grip just tightens. When you look up, he’s already looking at you, a challenging glint in his eyes.

“What are you doing?” You ask your voice barely above a whisper.

“Nothing” He shrugs his shoulders, the corner of his mouth kicking up into a smirk. And then he tugs on your hand, pulling you on top of him, and in a movement that has your head spinning, he rolls both of you over so he’s now hovering above you. You don’t even have the chance to say anything before he’s got his hands on your sides, tickling you.

“Oh my god, Haz, no” You press out between laughs, your stomach already starting to hurt. You try to curl up into yourself to get away from his wiggling fingers, but it’s no use, Harrison’s got you pinned down.

You hadn’t even been aware that he’s positioned between your legs, and the sudden realisation makes your breath catch in your throat. You try to get a grasp on his arms to push him away, get him to stop tickling you, but he’s too strong, taking your hands and pinning them above your head. The motion has his face only inches from yours, his breath hitting your lips, and it takes everything in you to keep still. The air between you is charged, his eyes flitting over your face, and you can feel his chest touch yours with every breath.

By now, he’s completely covering your body on the couch, and all you want to do is wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer into you. But you can’t move, kept in place by Harrison’s pale blue eyes. And then everything happens so quickly it takes your breath away.

Harrison makes a noise in the back of his throat, and then his lips are on yours. He takes your top lip between his, then your bottom lip and then you’re finally registering what’s happening and lean up, chasing his lips.

His grip on your wrists loosens, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck as you open your mouth, inviting him in deeper. You bury your hands in Harrison’s soft hair, tugging on his dark blond curls.

Harrison groans and rolls his hips into yours, and the feeling of him against you makes you throw all caution into the wind. You’re overcome with desire. With a swift but clumsy movement, you tug his shirt over his head.

Meanwhile, Harrison’s hands have also found their way under your shirt, his fingertip trailing over your skin, causing goosebumps to rise wherever he’s touching you. Your breathing’s uneven as he moves his lips to your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses all over your skin.

Arching your back you press yourself closer to him and wrap your legs around him. You run your hands over his toned back, feeling his muscles contract with each of his movements.

It’s been a while since you’ve been touched like this. And all of the sexual frustration you’ve been bottling up is threatening to spill over with the way Harrison’s hands are caressing your skin.

It almost feels like your brain shuts off completely when Harrison finds your sweet spot and starts sucking on it. You feel a tingling sensation in your lower belly, and then your clit’s throbbing, and you lose all sense of rational thinking.

“Fuck me” The words leave your lips without you even realising, and for a moment both you and Harrison pause. He lifts himself up to look at you, searching your face. And he must’ve found whatever he was looking for because in the next second his grip on you tightens, and then your shirt is pulled over your head.

“Gorgeous” The word falls from his lips with a hushed breath, as if he’s in awe, his eyes roaming over your half-naked body.

With frenzied movements, you both undress, not without getting tangled a couple of times. But then you’re naked, and if your mind wasn’t so foggy with desire, you would take a moment to appreciate Harrison’s handsome form as he positions himself between your legs. He’s got his hard cock in his hand about to enter you when he pauses.

“Fuck. I need to get a condom”

You let out a soft whine, but Harrison is back so quickly you hadn’t even really registered he was gone.

With one hand on your bent knee, he runs his fingers through your slick folds and lets out a low hiss.

“You’re so wet, this all for me?” You can hear the cocky smirk in his voice, and it takes everything in you not to roll your eyes.

“Yes, now please fuck me already.”

And then you feel his tip against your entrance. Harrison doesn’t give you much time to prepare as he starts pushing into you. You’re not complaining though, the feeling of his girth stretching you out is better than anything you’ve ever experienced.

When he’s completely inside of you, he halts his movements, resting his forehead against your shoulder.

“So tight” He murmurs against your skin, then places a sloppy kiss on your shoulder. Your cunt is throbbing, and in an attempt to get him to move, you roll your hips against his, causing Harrison to curse. “Fuck, you’re needy, aren’t you?”

You don’t grant that with an answer, and you don’t need to because the next thing you know, Harrison starts thrusting, moving in and out of you, his movements getting quicker and quicker every time he enters you.

The living room is filled with the sounds of skin hitting skin and breathy moans.

“Right there” You throw your head back with a groan when Harrison’s cock grazes your g-spot, and then Harrison seems hellbent on hitting it over and over and over again until you can’t think straight anymore. Your whole body is tingling, the coil in your stomach about to snap as you try to spread your legs even further, to feel him deeper.

You barely notice Harrison’s strained groans as he places his thumb on your clit. The sudden stimulation makes you cry out, your walls spasming around his cock as your release washes over you in shuddering waves.

You dig your fingernails into whatever you can hold onto as you cum around Harrison’s cock.

Your release pushes him over the edge as well, his cock twitching inside you as he orgasms with a deep groan.

You both need a moment to catch your breath. Your skin is sticky with sweat, but you don’t have the energy to get up and take a shower. Especially not with Harrison sprawled on top of you.

He pulls out of you, and before you can even register the cold air around you, he pulls the blanket from the back of the couch and covers you with it. He tugs on his boxers and gets up, probably to dispose of the condom, before he joins you back on the couch.

He squeezes himself between you and the back of the couch, pulling you close to him so you won’t fall off the couch.

“How was that?” He whispers as he joins you under the blanket and tangles his legs with yours.

“Good” You hum “Very good”

Harrison’s grip on you tightens a bit, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, placing a kiss there.

“It was, wasn’t it” You can feel him smile against your skin, and you let yourself sink into him. You’re starting to feel the energy draining from you.

And with nothing but Harrison filling your thoughts, you fall asleep.

A/N: here it is! the first part!! I hope you liked it! Let me know what you think!!! <3

everything taglist: @spidermanlondon // @duskholland // @tutuabby28 // @missevrythingg // @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh // @thenoddingbunny-blog // @emilykjh // @clara-licht // @hollandfanficlove // @calltothewild // @crybabyalexxx // @hazardosterfield // @calsthomas // @quaksonhehe // @sinisterspidey // @thirzaholland // @tombrina // @outshineallthestars // @serendipitous-amor // @soincredible // @trustfundparker // @localfangirlx // @writertoo18 // @viagracex // @skamlover200 // @wonderlandfandomkingdom // @wehavetomakeourheartssitstill // @thearchersupremacy // @itstaskeen // @camimndess // @allyz // @technosoot // @fanficscuziranout // @parker-hollandx // @givebuckyhisplumsnow // @dangerouslovefanfic // @ertherealrose // @i-married-a-pineapple // @miraclesoflove // @bi-girlwrites-2000 // @seasidetom // @katcontrreras // ** // @fallingforfics // @destinedbooklover // @parkerpeter24 // @selfcarecap // @moonphoric // @just-a-littlebit-of-everything // @emistrash // @badreputationlove // @turtoix // @haloxmendes // @anjalika03 // @iamsherloki-wholocked // @the-fan-18 // @white-wolf1940 // @aidinniram // @heyhihellowhatsup0 // @blackbat2020 // @keithseabrook27 // @annathesillyfriend // @hoodpankow // @practicallylivesonline // @millennial-teenybopper // @beautifulrose0809 // parachutepanties // @jamiealenaa // @hallecarey1

harrison osterfield taglist: @hjoficrecs // @lolychu // @hazardosterfield // @hollandbroz-n-haz // @emilyg453

series taglist: @softholand // @svturtles // @cloverrover // @goodgirlgonetom // @justafangirlduh // @thegirlwiththediary // @beyond-the-ashes // @parkerbunny // @bearsbeetsbarnes // @keithseabrook27

electric love taglist: @blueraindrops // @spideyssunshine // @defensive_sarcasm17 // @captainbucky13 // @frenchfrostpudding // @the-fan-18 // @hotforharrison // @osterfieldvol6 // @castawayclaires // @littlebookbengal // @bigbootyjudys-blog // @abcxrandomx // @74limelight // @lolooo22 // @justsayk // @mountainsforwords

#harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield smut #harrison osterfield au #harrison osterfield series #harrison osterfield fic #harrison osterfield reader insert #self insert #uni au #roommate au #fwb au #electric love

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itsnothesameasitwas · 3 years

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hiii! im looking for good freinds to lovers fics bc i go through them sooooo fast :/ if you have any good ones pls send them !!!

hii… sorry this took me a whole day but here some Friends to Lovers fics… all the fics I’m recommending are Larry and please be careful with the tags before start reading and leave kudos :)

ABO

♥ Promise Me You Won't Run Away by thinlines @thinlinez | 23k | E

“Does kissing me stop you from having bad thoughts?” Harry asked, voice muffled into the collar of Louis’ dress shirt. Louis chuckled at this. He trailed a hand down Harry’s back, feeling the muscles tensing along with his touch.

“I guess you can say that. You’re a good distraction.”

“Then I will be the best distraction.” Harry answered, pulling back and watched Louis’ lips unashamedly.

“Come distract me, then.”

Or the Prince/ Knight AU in which Harry left Louis, but the omega never once gave up on them.

♥ i don't wanna be your friend, i wanna kiss your neck by crybaby | 19k | E

Harry has been in love with Louis Tomlinson for four years, five months, and thirteen days.

Harry had fallen in love with Louis Tomlinson like how he’d seen in movies, and how he’d read in all the books he’d stolen from Gemma, headfirst and shameless. The only problem was, that in films and books, love was always either returned instantly, or else it took time for unrequited love to lose the first two letters, and since the first option was obviously not true, Harry decided he would wait for the second to become reality. And so Harry waited, three years, eight months, and four days, before his heart had been broken by a gentle rejection and a misplaced blowjob, before Louis and Gemma had packed up and gone to Manchester for university.

(Harry is a hopelessly romantic omega and Louis is his sister's best friend)

♥ picking up the pieces by falsegoodnight @falsegoodnight | 35k | E

“Zayn,” he murmurs, quietly but desperately.

Knowing what to do immediately, Zayn discreetly glances behind them to scan the room. “Walking over,” he says, confirming Louis’ worst fears.

“Maybe he’ll just pass by without stopping,” Louis says, glancing at the tables next to them as if hoping to find some other group of friends Harry had in high school that he could possibly want to talk to.

Eyebrow arched and lips pursed, Zayn has the nerve to look amused. “He’s looking directly at us.”

“Cause a diversion,” Louis rushes through his teeth, panic clawing up his throat. He can’t look Harry in the face again. Not yet, maybe not ever.

Zayn rolls his eyes and grabs his hand, interlocking their fingers. “It’s now or never, dear.”

- Louis returns to his hometown for the first time in ten years for his high school reunion and is faced with memories he’s long since tried to forget.

MPREG

♥ waiting on you by beckywritesthings @beckydoesthings | 21k | M

“Do you want to touch?” Harry asks, taking one of his hands off to tangle with Louis’. His open invitation finally drags Louis’ attention away from his baby and up to his face, blue eyes wobbly with emotions. It’s clear that he’s too taken to really form words, so Harry takes the initiative to press their laced hands against his shirt fabric, warmth from the skin radiating through.

Louis pushes his shirt up to his chest, taking Harry’s hand and pressing it to hold the fabric in place. His hands return to warm skin, palms even more scalding now that there’s nothing in between them. And then, as if that wasn’t enough for Harry’s heart to handle, Louis leans in, pressing his lips right above his belly button.

“Hi, baby,” he says, lips moving across his skin softly. “I’m your… I’m Louis.”

Or Harry is pregnant with a stranger’s baby and Louis doesn’t know. It’s a minor detail that Harry’s both living with Louis and in love with him. No big deal.

♥ you fit me better than my favourite sweater by brightbluelou | 13k | NR

Harry didn't mean to fall in love with his best friend, and he definitely didn't mean to get pregnant. Despite that, it’s probably still the best thing that’s ever happened to him. And after that, well. It just kept getting better.

or; the one where Harry and Louis are friends-with-benefits and Harry unexpectedly gets pregnant. Harry never wants to stop getting pregnant after that, but Louis thinks seven kids is probably enough.

AUS

♥ our matchmaker: the fucking universe by peachloulou | 8k | E |

On your eighteenth birthday, you end up with your soulmates' name tattooed on your body. The universe works in a fairly simple way, so Louis knows Harry is his soulmate. He's got Harry's name tattooed on his ass cheek like a tramp stamp, and Harry's got the name Lou written on the inside of his wrist. Except Harry doesn't know what Louis' soulmates name is because Louis is a romantic fool, and, ever since Harry woke up with the name Lou two years after Louis, he's been a quest to find his own soulmate. Meeting after meeting.

But maybe Louis' wrong, and he and Harry are nothing more than best friends.

Or the one where the universe is annoyingly fucking complicated.

♥ Love Isn't Always on Time by softfonds @softfonds | 45k | E

Falling in love with your best friend sounds like a good idea, until he comes back from a work trip engaged to another man. A Made of Honor AU.

♥ You Might Want to Marry My Husband by Rearviewdreamer | 37k | M

When Harry’s husband dies, he asks one thing of him; to find love and happiness again without him. It’s a request that Harry is happy to disregard, until he meets the one person who is impossible to ignore.

♥ Work of Magic by Bekita @justalarryblog | 34k | NR

"C’mon Liam, are you really going to use this against me now? You know the kind of humans his kind is! You know very well why we hunt them!" Louis said, done with the conversation and walking down the hall.

"No! We hunt people who don’t care about others, and neither Harry nor anyone in his family is like that!” Liam exasperated, following behind. “Louis, it's been two weeks, don’t you wanna know how Harry is? Has this hatred taken over so fast?" Liam inquired, knowing the hit a nerve.

"You know what, Liam? I'm not going to have this conversation with you." Louis said decisively, turning his back to his friend ready to go to his class.

But life is never fair, is it? When he turned around he was face to face with Harry in the middle of the hallway. The two stared at each other. Do I hate him? Louis wondered as he watched Harry's eyes fill with tears and seem to be begging for something. He preferred to ignore the pang in his chest and the urge to comfort the boy in front of him. He lowered his head and continued on his way.

Or the one that Louis is a WitchHunter and Harry is a Witch and they keep it as a secret, but they fall in love.

♥ practice in pencil, seal it in pen by loubellies @loubellies | 16k | E

AU where drunk Harry lifts Louis up after someone says “bottoms up”. Louis blushes at Harry’s antics, flustered that his best friend knew him more than he thought. Friends to lovers with a happy ending pleaseor Harry is in love with Louis but he doesn't know.

♥ plant new seeds by glitterhaz @cloudslou | 44k | TUA

Harry nods, not trusting his words. Slowly, he crawls under the covers of his bed, all too aware that Louis is doing the same, so close to him. Initially, he faces his desk, not looking at Louis, but after a few minutes he gets uncomfortable and turns over. Now, he’s only a foot from Louis’ face, and Louis has turned around too.

He doesn’t think Louis is asleep already, and it's confirmed when Louis’ eyes blink open sleepily. Harry looks at Louis, and Louis looks at him. Really looks.

“Can you see me?” Louis whispers.

Harry doesn’t understand the question, not really, but nods anyway. “Yeah, I see you,”

**Louis works at a lonely community garden, Harry is the upstanding fraternity man who makes it all feels a little less lonely. Over the course of a semester, that is.

♥ Skin New, Hands True, My Hands All Over You by PearlyDewdrops | 44k | E

Harry designs wedding cakes, so of course meeting blissfully happy couples every day is part of his job description. Unfortunately, it's caused Harry to perpetually hope each new day is the one he'll find love, too. That is, until Harry realises everything he's ever wanted is right under his nose in the shape of his best friend, Louis.

But predictably, Harry only comes to this epiphany when Louis starts seeing someone else. And this is not a John Hughes movie as far as Harry is aware. Everyone else is pretty sure, though.

Featuring a heavy dose of pining, copious amounts of alcohol, drunk dialing that results in a situation reminiscent of Rachel Green's, a ginger cat that likes to interrupt intimate moments, and a Halloween party that changes everything.

♥ if it kills me by you_explode | 110k | M

Harry and Louis have worked together in a difficult office environment for six years. They're best friends; Louis is the bright spot of all of Harry's days. But Louis is in love with Harry, and Harry's engaged to someone else. And that's only the beginning.

The Office AU. More or less follows the first five seasons. A lot of pining and misunderstanding the depth of feelings and rejection and angst, until there isn’t.

♥ In This Light by exhilarated | 99k | E

Harry is a wardrobe stylist who likes to live in the moment, and Louis is a popstar who looks dreamy in double breasted jackets. Harry never stood a chance.

♥ smell the sea, feel the sky by lightswoodmagic @lightwoodsmagic | 16k | E

They’d been planning this beach trip for months, stressing around work schedules and engagement parties, trying to find the perfect place to stay in and a time where there wouldn’t be families everywhere but the weather still perfect. Louis had spent what felt like hours researching and planning, dinners with Zayn and his boyfriend at their house that just ended in looking at places and sending them to Niall. He’d been looking forward to it for weeks, getting away from his job and his bullshit neighbours and the noise of the city.

It seemed ridiculous, really, that in all that time, Zayn hadn’t mentioned once that Harry was coming.

Or, Louis doesn't know how he's going to spend a week with the one person he wants and can't have. Harry proves him wrong.

♥ This Shifting Ground by zarah5 | 28k | M

University AU. In which Louis, law student, is the cheeky waiter to Harry’s dates. This is how it starts.

♥ No One Like You by myownspark | 19k | M

Dear Niall,I was glad to have the chance to talk with you again at the AHA conference. Your idea that the Musee D’Orsay Tomlinson painting is in fact not a self-portrait is an intriguing one, and I may have discovered something that will have a bearing on that theory.

Some background: as you may remember, I’ve been researching for a book I’m writing about Harry Styles. I’ve been in communication with Styles’ last living descendant, who is in possession of a trunk that her family believed to have belonged to Styles himself. It held some personal items she presumes to be his, including two unmounted paintings and a small collection of letters.

Upon spending the last few days in Provins studying these items, I believe there to be a connection between Tomlinson and Styles, and I would very much like your opinion.

Are you up for a trip to France?

Sincerely, Liam Payne

Where Liam and Niall are art historians discovering the truth about two nineteenth century painters on opposite sides of an artistic divide.

♥ across city skyline (and straight through my heart) by Halos_Boat @halohamilton | 76k | M

Louis Tomlinson meets Hollywood Heartthrob, Harry Styles when he walks into Louis' little bakery one day.

Immediately, Louis is charmed by him and Louis thinks Harry might feel the same way, given the fact that Harry has visited the bakery everyday since he'd come to town.

Until one day, Harry walks in with a boyfriend under his arm and a smile on his face.

The one where Louis owns a small bakery that's well known in his town and Harry Styles is an actor who comes to town to film a new movie. Louis is endeared by him, but that doesn’t seem to matter since Harry Styles is already taken.

♥ Tired Tired Sea by MediaWhore | 113k | M

As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

♥ Here In The Afterglow by fondleeds | 88k | NR

“If you hadn’t noticed, I don’t have many friends,” Louis whispers, the blossom of insecurity in his stomach unfurling and clawing its way into his throat.

Harry is silent for a long time, and then he speaks; a soft, slow uncurl that makes Louis’ stomach shake. “I’ll be your friend.”

- 1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.

♥ Nicotine by KrisStylinson | 42k | E

"We're two different types of people, Liam. He likes sex and drugs, I like theater and tea. Trust me, we'd never date." Except they would, they do, and neither of them plans on letting go anytime soon.

"Just because you can get me hard doesn't mean I like you," Louis whispered. The fact was, he didn't like Harry right now, not at all. Not even a bit.

"Yeah, yeah," Harry murmured, his breath fanning over Louis' cock as he spoke. "You done telling me how much you hate me so I can suck you off?"

♥ California Sold by isthatyoularry | 123k | M

Notoriously closeted boyband member Harry Styles is famous on a global scale, meanwhile Louis, as his best friend, is back home in Manchester, living the typical life of a 24 year old. When Harry needs Louis with him in LA, a publicity stunt gone wrong changes their friendship forever.

A fake-relationship AU between two lifelong best friends.

—————

if you feel like you need more, don’t hesitate to ask me :)

#friends to lovers #trackinghome #tracksintheam #1dsource #hljournal #hlsource #my fic rec #larry fic rec #themed fic rec #long post #this a REAL LONG POST #sorry but yk...#fics can't wait heheh #when I was looking for fics through what I have read I noticed this is one of those tropes I barely read #but I’m always willing to read :)#hope it helps:D #ask #louisloverera

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wonderlustlucas · 3 years

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home - hwang hyunjin

⇢ prompt “I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t sure.” ⇢ pairing hyunjin x female reader ⇢ word count 2.7k ⇢ genre fluff, kind of angsty? ⇢ warnings insinuated that this takes place during covid & that reader has some case of depression/anxiety i literally wrote her as me so like ⇢ summary In which Hyunjin shows you just how special you are.—college!au ⇢ a/n happy birthday to my love, my comfort, my home

What am I doing here?

Unfortunately, there is no one else to blame but herself for being left without plans on this Friday night. Regretfully so, she instead finds herself alone on the upper level of the business building. Scratch that, the whole building, probably – she’s been here since four, and the few students that were once alongside her left hours ago. Initially here to work on an essay, she now occupies her time bouncing between YouTube, Twitch, and Crunchyroll, watching whatever she is feeling at the moment despite Monday’s deadline looming over her.

Sighing, she looks away from a boring page of YouTube recommendations, stretches her neck, and reaches for her hot chocolate. Well, not hot anymore, she realizes with a wince after taking a sip, struggling to swallow the now cold drink. Gaze flicking to the time on the corner of her laptop, she frowns. 9:43. She considers walking home once it hits ten, the unstirred silence of the building starting to prick up her spine like needles. Home, she thinks with an amused exhale from her nose. A too small, overheated double dorm room that technically is a single now that her roommate has gone online for the rest of the semester. Home.

She wonders, briefly, if anyone were to miss her if she were to go home home. If anyone would even notice, anyway.

She wouldn’t expect them to, honestly. It’s not as if she goes out of her way to hang out with anyone, usually opting to cozy up in her room and pretend she does not see the groupchat blowing up with plans to meet at the dining hall, a study session at the library, a trip to the mall. She loves her friends, really, but can rarely find it in herself to actually participate in said friend activities. Sure, there are some nights she actually leaves the confines of her room to join them, but to be quite frank, she’s glad they have learned to simply stop inviting her. Makes the whole looking for an excuse problem a lot easier.

Besides, who would want to go out on a night like this, anyway?

Just as she has flipped to page fifty-three of The Old Man and the Sea, she looks away in boredom, instead opting to gaze out the window. Focusing past her reflection on the tall glass pane, a warm feeling she can only describe as peace seems to settle over her, watching the snow fall like moonlit glitter across campus. The snowstorm had started light when she first arrived, soft enough she could manage with her hood down, dotting her with only miniature droplets of water. Now, though, the flakes are so large she can focus on one at a time as they fly past, covering the ground with a solid two or three inches at this point. In the distance, she can spot snowplows making their rounds to clear the pathways, the route to the business building already turned slushy blue as salt melts the continuous snow.

She sighs, eyes wide like a child as she represses the urge to go outside and grab a handful of it, maybe fall onto one of the lawns and make a snow angel, stick her tongue out and try to catch one of the large flakes. Tomorrow, maybe, she thinks, looking at her grey sweatpants and deciding walking back with soaked pants in this weather would not be the best idea.

So late into March, she cannot help but chuckle at the number of students complaining about the snow and cold temperature on SnapChat, even her friends having to change their plans. She, on the other hand, finds such last chance snowstorm beautiful; sure, she was ready for spring and eventually a break from school, but watching the snow dancing under the streetlights, choreographed by the gentle wind, she thinks it’s something to hold on to, keep her grounded to reality that albeit the stress and monotony of college, such moments like these still exist.

She jumps at the sound of the front entrance slamming closed.

Who the hell? She frowns, annoyed at whoever decided now was a good time to come inside, subsequently ruining her little moment of serenity. Turning red at the thought of some raunchy couple thinking to spice things up in the presumably empty building, she considers packing her bag and heading out. But no matter which exit, they would still see her, and that would be painstakingly awkward. Maybe she could escape into one of the smaller reservation rooms, or at least make some exaggerated noise so they at least know they’re not alone.

Could just be a janitor, or maybe someone else deciding to shelter somewhere other than their dorm to buckle down and do some work, she thinks. No matter who it is and what their intentions are, her leg is already bouncing a mile a minute having gotten used to having the space to herself.

So caught up on how or when she should take her leave, she does not hear the footsteps coming up the stairs until they’re right behind her. Tensing up, she watches in the window’s reflection as the business building’s second occupant steps up onto the platform and… heads towards her. Panic setting in, she tries to decipher who it is through the blurry reflection but to no avail, heart racing at the thought of a stranger approaching her, one of her friends finding her here on a Friday night, a janitor going to ask her to leave.

She turns her head as soon as they stop beside her.

“Hyunjin?” She blurts, taken aback. This was the last person she expected to be here. Somewhat relieved but heart still beating in her throat, she blinks up at the tall boy to make sure it’s really him, brows furrowed in confusion. “What are you doing here?”

“I should be asking you the same thing,” he returns, pulling his mask down below his chin and smiling cheekily at her. “I went to go pick up my food and saw you in the window,” Hyunjin explains, tugging the beanie off his head and shaking his hair out, showering her in the tiny droplets. Wrinkling her nose, she takes notice of the Chipotle bag in his hand and how soaked his coat is.

“Here,” she offers, reaching for the bag. Passing it to her with a grateful smile, Hyunjin unzips his coat and sets it over a chair beside her alongside his beanie, wipes the melted snow and sweat from his eyes, and tries to fix his now mused bangs. “So, what are you doing here?” He asks while doing this, regarding her with an amused glint in his eyes.

“Work,” she sighs. Then, glancing to the screen of her laptop and realizing it’s still the home page of YouTube, she grimaces. “Trying to do work. Not really. Just watching the snow.”

“It’s a lot prettier when you’re inside,” Hyunjin comments, following her gaze to watch the frenzy of snow before taking the bag from her and offering a quiet thanks. “But I meant more why are you here?”

She isn’t quite sure what her relationship with Hyunjin is. Having been one of the many acquaintances she barely made at freshman orientation, he did not seem like the kind of person she expected to still be in her life. She wouldn’t exactly say they were close, but she considers Hyunjin a friend, she thinks. After a good month or two forgetting he existed, she randomly bumped into him at the dining hall, recognizing that unfairly attractive face of his in line for chicken nuggets and immediately falling into conversation. Turns out, he was mutual friends with her lab partner, Kim Seungmin.

She does not see Hyunjin as much as she wishes she did. She had not shared any classes with him in the past three years, and even if her friend group and his overlapped in the slightest, it was not always a given that they both would be able to hang out as much as their closer friends do. Still, there always seems to be a random occasion, such as now, where they bump into one another. Each time is a pleasant surprise, of course, and not just because of his pretty face and wide shoulders, but because he has always seemed to care for her in a way no one else does, and that in itself is enough to have her heart racing every time he comes close.

Not that she has a crush on him or anything, but it definitely is hard trying not to fall in love every time he even so much as smiles at her.

Face heating up in embarrassment at his question, she avoids looking him in the eyes and randomly minimizes the Chrome tab on her laptop. “You know,” she drones on, “just taking it easy for the night.”

Hyunjin hums in agreement, opening the lid of his burrito bowl and stabbing a fork into the layers. Even her mouth waters. “I feel like I never see you,” he contemplates, finally taking a bite. His words surprise her. “Uh, yeah,” she coughs, forcing herself to look away before she gets too enraptured over how beautiful he looks even after trekking through a snowstorm, long hair messy but falling over his face in a way that has her fingers twitching to tuck away. “I usually don’t go out with everyone. Not my scene.”

“Aw,” he coos, “I get that. Sometimes I’m the same way, I just want to relax on the weekends after working so much all week.”

Thank you!, she almost shouts, but bites her tongue. She agrees, but even she does not know why she can’t find it in herself to go out and party with everyone else. She’s just lazy, to put it simply. Nevertheless, his words put her at ease, no longer worried that he might think she’s a loser for staying in every weekend.

“Exactly,” she agrees, “parties are fun, sometimes. But I just prefer laying low. I don’t think my friends like that, though.”

Gaze finding his, her heart does somersaults at the smile he offers. “Nah,” Hyunjin says, confident, “no one thinks that. Everyone has their way of having fun. Honestly, all I’ve ever heard is your friends complaining how they miss you and that you would make going out more fun since you’re so funny.”

“Which is true, by the way,” he adds.

She feels as if she is going to combust. “Oh,” she croaks, throat dry, “um, thank you. That’s sweet of them. And you. I guess I didn’t consider that they miss me when they go out.”

Hyunjin scoffs, raising a brow but finishes chewing before speaking again. “Are you nuts? You’re so fun to be around, of course they’re going to miss you.”

“Okay, stop that,” she laughs, burning from the inside out at his compliments. “Just being honest,” he laughs, opening the bag of his tortilla chips. “Want any?”

She looks at him with wide eyes. “Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t sure.”

“Okay,” she huffs out an airy laugh, rolling her chair closer to his. Miscalculating that he was going to move, too, she quite literally feels her blood pressure skyrocket as her knees bump into his. And he doesn’t move. “Here,” moving the bag closer to the edge of the table, Hyunjin glances at her for only a split second before focusing on his bowl again.

Reaching into the bag, she feels emboldened not only by his previous flattery, but his proximity as well, and scrambles to continue the conversation. “Why are you eating Chipotle so late?”

“Pre-birthday celebration. Also, DoorDash took forever,” Hyunjin laughs.

“When’s your birthday?” She asks, munching on a chip.

“In,” he pauses, tapping his phone, “two hours.”

Oh. “What?” She gasps, blinking at him. “What? Why aren’t you out? It’s your birthday weekend and you’re here eating Chipotle?”

“Woah, okay Miss I-Prefer-Laying-Low. Maybe I wanted to chill tonight, since tomorrow I’m going out? Hm?” Hyunjin chuckles at her scowl, pursing his lips. “Okay, yeah, I guess but—”

“No but’s,” he interrupts, the amused glint in his eyes disappearing, “I’m here now, and that’s what matters, right? I’m lucky I saw you in the window.”

“I guess,” she mutters, realizing her heart has not stopped its staccato frenzy since moving closer, “you scared me, by the way. I’ve been here alone for hours and suddenly someone is walking up to me, I think I shit my pants.”

Hyunjin bellows out a laugh, and such an airy sound momentarily leaves her awestruck. Oh, god, she’s in deep. It’s over.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he giggles, battling her hand to reach for a chip. Even the touch of his long fingers against hers has the entire butterfly population roaring to life in her gut. “Look, I made up for it by gifting you chips.”

“True,” she hums, licking residue salt off her fingers before leaning back in her chair to catch a breather. Too much physical contact and emotion for one night.

“What are you doing next weekend?” Hyunjin asks, taking her by surprise. Again. She thinks she is going to faint if she isn’t able to wrap herself around him within the next fifteen seconds.

“Um,” she starts, then remembers her previous idea of going home after this week was over. “I was probably going to go home next Friday.”

“Oh,” is all Hyunjin says, seemingly disappointed. “Why?”

She grits her teeth. Why? Really? “I don’t know,” she shrugs, not even convinced herself, “I’m bored and lonely here. I love everyone here but I miss my friends at home. I might as well be slightly less bored at home.” Hyunjin frowns.

“Okay, what about this,” he starts, leaning close enough she can count his individual eyelashes and nearly smell the flavor of his lip balm, “you go out with us tomorrow night and if you have fun, you hang out with us next weekend, too. Oh, and whenever you want some company, you text me and we’ll come here or somewhere else and do homework together or just chill. How does that sound?”

All she can do is blink at him. Her initial thought is how dare he try negotiating whether I go home or not? But, there it is, again, she realizes. That extra step he takes, the genuine care he shows her, acting like her well-being is his responsibility. “You don’t have to do that, Hyunjin. I don’t want to bother you every time I feel lonely. I’ll be fine.”

“Christ, you’re dense,” rolling his eyes, Hyunjin sets his fork down, wipes his hands on his thighs, and suddenly leans in to hold her face with both hands, “I wouldn’t offer to sit around and do homework with you when you’re in need of a friend if I didn’t want to.”

Her heart is racing so fast she fears he may be able to hear the thud of it against her chest. What he’s saying is starting to sound a lot more than some friend-to-friend comfort, and it’s making her head hurt, especially with his thumbs ever so slightly swiping against her cheeks. At her silence, he starts again.

“Y/N,” he says, voice dropping an octave, “don’t go home. This is your home, too, you just don’t want it to be.”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she thinks she is going to say something, but nothing comes out. There is nothing to say. Hyunjin is right, he has read her like an open book, and he’s here to offer his shoulder to lean on. “Okay,” she whispers, “I’ll go out with everyone tomorrow. And I’ll try and stay here for the rest of the semester.”

“That’s my girl,” Hyunjin smiles, leaning closer and pressing a featherlight kiss to her lips. At first, it takes her by surprise. But then it all starts to make sense. The snow makes sense. Her essay makes sense. Being here makes sense. Hyunjin makes sense. His birthday makes sense. She makes sense.

Outside the glass windows, the wind starts to howl, blowing the composed ballet of snow to its final act, covering the pathways and the streetlights and the roof of the business building in perfect white glitter. Inside these windows, she realizes they would notice if she were to go home.

Why would she ever do that when her second home is right here in front of her?

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morkleemelon · 3 years

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off the ice || chapter 3: steady now

previous || m.list || playlist || next

pairing: college hockey player! mark x college figure skater! reader

genre: fluff, humor, college au, sports au

word count: 6.9k

warnings: swearing, party with drugs and alcohol, scene of borderline harassment (nothing actually happens), financial struggle, insecurity, social anxiety, mention of injury

a/n: huge thank you to my beta readers @writing-frog and @skiimmiilk for helping me edit this! now I won’t have to tweak it a hundred times after posting XD also (not spoiling) I’m sorry I did you like this, sungchan :(

I’m not sure if I’m awake, dead, or dreaming, but somebody please take me out of this misery.

Your neck struggled to support your head as you fought to stay conscious on the locker room bench. It was early Saturday morning and team practice was far from over. Unwillingly, you had to stay up the previous night, studying deep into the AM because a certain boy kept distracting you in your head.

Over and over again, through your shift at the diner to the ride home to right here as you clung onto Yuna’s arm for support, Mark’s cute smile and Lisa’s daring accusations spun through your tired mind. It’s really not fair- a guy talks to you once and you’re already imagining things…

You quickly shake the thoughts from your head.

“Alright girls, thanks for coming in so early today,” your head skating coach, Tanya, smiled warmly, “captains, get everyone warmed up and I’ll go over some exciting announcements at the end of practice”.

“Thank you, Tanya,” the fatigued girls chorused half-heartedly as the captains ushered everyone out of the locker room and into the hallway for stretching.

Reaching down to touch her toes, Yuna looks over to you. “Y/n, are you okay? You look worse than usual”.

The exhausted expression on your face said it all as you bent down to do the same. “I’ve got a lot on my mind. Econ test is coming up too”. You yawned into your words.

“I know you’re gonna say no, but if you wanna let loose a little, there’s a party tonight,” Yuna peers at you upside-down from in between her legs.

“You know I’m not a party person,” you decline, blacking out slightly as you stand back up. You blink to clear your vision.

As much as you admired your popular best friend for putting herself out there and being able to have fun at a party, it couldn’t be you. The drinking, the smoking, the groping, ogling men- not to mention the anxiety of existing in a frat house full of judgmental people, was all too much for you. As tempting as letting loose a little on a Saturday night sounded, you’d much rather do it in a way that involves your cozy pj’s and watching your favorite skating compilations on YouTube. Alone.

“I know, I know,” Yuna holds her hands up innocently, “but it could be fun. I know Mark is gonna be there”.

You whip your head around so fast that your ponytail nearly slaps her in the face. Flustered, you smooth down the nonexistent wrinkles on the front of your skating jacket. “Oh, that’s nice. What’s that got to do with me?”.

“Just letting you know,” Yuna shrugged in a ‘matter of fact’ manner.

The captains led the team out to the rink to do laps. You weighed Yuna’s words for a minute as you skated across the ice. Naturally, being here where you were the most comfortable with yourself made you more susceptible to her convincing ploy. If you looked at the last few days in review, you had already made four new friends from just letting Yuna take the reins for one afternoon. That’s about one friend for every dollar in your bank account!

But the nagging reality was that Yuna had a massive amount of friends, cool friends, who were probably going to be at that very party while you had nobody but her and a guy you just met. This didn’t sit well with your anxieties. You’ll just end up awkward if Yuna wants to talk to someone else, or desperate if you cling to Mark, who would probably be weirded out.

As expected, it’s best to stay in.

The practice ran smoothly. As always, the hour and a half of spinning, falling, and getting back up resulted in soreness and loss of breath. Nonetheless, it recharged you and the cloud of tiredness in your head finally dissipated. You felt so free on the ice because you knew that you did it well. It isn’t about the money or your popularity or if you have to work part time just to afford the skates that you wear. If you put in the hard work and effort, you are rewarded with success; that’s a big part of what you liked about it.

“Excellent job today, ladies. I’d like everyone to give a special round of applause to y/n today,” Coach Tanya suddenly singled you out as the team gathered around to hear her ending announcements. Tanya gave you a warm smile and gestured towards you as you bow to your clapping teammates. “For mastering the triple lutz. I can tell you’ve been practicing extra hours, both from the log sheet and from your performance today. At this rate, we may send you to nationals in the spring”.

Gasps echo across the cold, near-empty stadium. Your jaw hung open at Tanya’s ambitious plan and Yuna grabbed onto your arm excitedly, giving you a nudge of congratulations. It was extremely rare for a sophomore to be sent to the national competitions. Even some seniors never make it past the pre-auditions at Seoul University alone. You weren’t even dreaming of going within the next year despite all of your extra night-time practices. Looking at Tanya’s face, it didn’t seem like she was joking either.

“Thank you, Coach Tanya. I will work even harder”.

“That being said, I have some exciting news pertaining to all of you ladies: this year, Seoul University is sponsoring our team to hold a friendly competition for the winter festival as a sort of main event. Don’t be alarmed because it is optional. It’s September now, so if you are interested in participating, you will have just under four months to prepare a pair skate for the festival in December. Untraditionally, the audience will be voting to choose a winner instead of a panel. Furthermore, the theme, costumes, and music will all be up to you, so have fun with it! Oh and not to mention, the winning pair will be rewarded a monetary prize of $5,000 each”.

Shocked looks were exchanged between teammates. Your brain was still processing to make sure you heard Tanya right as she reiterated.

“Yes,” Tanya laughed, “you heard me right, girls, $5,000 each. It’s a tremendous opportunity and if not for the money, for a chance to practice performing in front of a crowd”.

Murmurs of excitement hush across the near-empty stadium.

“Yuna,” you look up to the taller girl and grip her arm with both hands, “Yuna please we gotta do this”. You shake her slightly with your pleading, “be my partner?”.

The blonde giggled, “duh, of course! Lisa and Hope will probably do it together since they’re both on JV so it’s perfect. Let’s get that ten grand for you!”.

“Wait no, but-”

“Y/n. You know I’m not about to argue with you about this,” Yuna sighed, looking up to the fluorescent ceiling lights to avoid your indignant stare. You relaxed your grip on her arm, knowing that you wouldn’t win this fight no matter how guilty you felt. “You’re better than me by a long shot. If anyone could bet on a winner, they’d put their money on you without a doubt. And if we win it’ll be because of you, so think of it as a fair split based on contribution. I’ll take a $20 cut to buy us dinner,” Yuna encouraged.

You close your eyes and rest the side of your head on her shoulder.

That’s my best friend. I don’t deserve her.

You felt bad, but you knew that you needed this money more than anything right now. Your parents didn’t earn much and they were already burdened by this semester’s tuition, even with the scholarships. Picking up extra shifts at Frankie’s did little more than cover skating fees and rent. The heavy, looming fear of next semester being the one when you’d have to drop out often kept you up at night. It’s nobody’s fault, but that’s how it is.

Yet like a miracle angel sent from Heaven, this competition could cover an entire semester’s worth of tuition if you win. You needed the prize money desperately. You were going to have to win it no matter what.

“Bye!”. You waved to your teammates as they exited the locker room, probably to go out and be social on a Saturday afternoon. Unfortunately for you, your only plans were to sit alone at the library, studying.

“You seriously don’t wanna join us for lunch today?”. Yuna slung her skating bag over her shoulder. Her wet hair from just showering stuck to her face, but even like this she looked like she could be on the cover of a teen magazine.

“I’ll pass. I can grab a salad from the convenience store before I head to the library. Midterms are coming up and I gotta do a lot of review,” you explain, brushing a wide comb through your tangled mess of hair. Yuna moved to pull her hair back into a ponytail. You watched as her perfectly sculpted reflection made an action so simple into a reason for envy. The stained locker room mirror, however, did your bare face no favors. Your best friend remained oblivious as you picked yourself apart again. Your cheeks were a little too round, nose a little too wide, eyebrows a little too uneven. You shove the brush in your bag and turn around before you could fall deeper in insecurity. “Let’s go”.

As always, you chose to disregard your insecure thoughts and pretend like they never existed. Talking about it seemed weird, so you just chose not to do it. And you didn’t like bothering other people with your problems either. It was best to just keep it to yourself.

“Y/n!,” a familiar voice called out from behind you. You stopped walking down the stadium corridor, turning around to see who could’ve known your name. Usually it’s Yuna getting stopped by one of her many friends.

Ashy blonde hair came into view as the boy jogged to catch up with you. Your legs were doing just fine after over an hour and a half of training, but they trembled at the sight of a certain dreamy junior boy.

“Hey, fancy seeing you here,” Mark smiled down at you, the dim hallway lights catching on his cheekbones and jawline, accentuating his beautifully sculpted features.

“I’ll see you later,” Yuna winked, patting you on the back and making a break for the exit before you could protest.

“I-uh, hey, Mark,” you stutter. Was it just you or did he get even more good-looking since the last time you saw him?

“Did you guys just get out of practice?”. You could hardly pay attention to his simple question as you checked him out. Mark sported a simple outfit consisting of a plain black hoodie with matching black joggers and sneakers. His red hockey bag which was slung across his back was supported by one of his thumbs. With the sleeves of his hoodie rolled up to his elbows, you watch as the lines of his forearm muscles shift and strain with each fine movement from the weight of the duffel.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah! We did,” you answer after an awkward pause. Oh, God, please let that not have been weird. “Are you here for your practice?”. You mentally slap yourself for your stupid question; he’s wearing gym clothes and has his hockey gear, what else was he going to do at the rink?

“Yeah, I am,” Mark laughed good-naturedly, leaning slightly on the wall next to you, “I came here a bit early, actually. I was hoping to catch you”.

Catch...me?

Your face flushed at his heart-fluttering remark. Contesting with the urge to spontaneously burst into flames, you try your best to give a steady reply, “Oh! What for?”.

“I-uh,” Mark diverted his gaze down to his shoes, “I know I got your number from the group chat, but I wanted to ask you in person. There’s a party tonight at the sheep’s house- my friend’s house- and I was wondering if I was gonna see you there”.

You simultaneously wanted to sink into the floor to disappear forever and jump into the air to celebrate. You did neither.

Was he asking you out? Not really. But then again, he wants to see you there at the party. And he came here early to specially ask you in person.

You replay the debate you had with Yuna earlier. Past-you had made some valid points about not going, but how could you say no when he put it like this?… oh, fuck it.

“For sure. I’ll be there”. You offer a wry smile to try to cover your nervousness.

“Awesome,” Mark’s eyes twinkled as he smiled, “can’t wait to see you tonight, then”.

“Can’t wait,” you echoed. You couldn’t help but notice how he was a few inches taller and you had to tilt your head back to meet his soft, brown eyes.

“I should probably get down to the rink to set up for practice”

“Oh okay! Don’t let me keep you”

“Not at all”. His fingers shifted to adjust the strap of his hockey bag and your eyes brushed over the ripple of his forearm. He was doing the bare-minimum and your knees were ready to buckle in the middle of the hallway.

“I’ll get going then!,” you excuse yourself with a curt wave. Turning around, you head briskly for the exit before you could embarrass yourself further and agree to more irrational proposals.

Before your hand could even touch the exit door to let yourself out, reality hit.

Oh no. I have to go to the party.

Yuna squealed and pounced you onto your bed as you told her the news. “I can’t believe it! You’re really gonna go?”.

You run a stressed hand through your wavy locks, “I guess? He didn’t leave me much of a choice”. Rolling around on your bed, your best friend clapped and cheered despite your wanting to travel back in time and tell Mark you couldn’t make it. But how were you supposed to say no to that face? Thanks to this, your library study session was far from focused or helpful.

“We gotta get you looking hot, y/n. I mean, you’re already hot,” Yuna corrected, “but even more hot for your first college party”.

Hopping off your now messed-up covers, you go to observe yourself in the full-body mirror in all your said ‘hotness’. You were currently enveloped in a grouchy oversized tee shirt that you got from a choir field trip in high school paired with plain gym shorts hidden underneath. Your hair was especially frizzy from being air-dried after your shower.

“The only hot I am is a hot mess,” you groaned. Did you look like this when Mark saw you earlier? Shit.

“Nonsense, silly,” Yuna hugged you from behind, “you’re adorable and you’d be surprised how much hair, makeup, and a good fit can change someone”. She looked into your eyes eagerly through the mirror as if asking for permission. You were too nervous about the party to deny her so you gave your roommate a reluctant nod. It was better that she helped you get ready so you could fit in and thus blend into the background.

Squealing again, Yuna gave you a squeeze and scurried to flit through her closet for something you could wear.

“Go straighten your hair, y/n!”

“Yes ma’am”. This much you could do. “How’s this?”. Yuna held up a skimpy bralette top, its white lace barely covering any surface area at all.

“That’s a top?!”

“Ok nevermind”. Tossing the tiny piece aside, your roommate continued sifting earnestly through her collection of expensive clothes.

You ran the straightener through your partitioned hair carefully.

“What about this one?”. Yuna held up a simple red crop top. A small notch ran an inch down the neckline which gave it a little edge, but it seemed like it would be in your comfort zone.

“That’s perfect,” you smile.

Hair now pin straight and finally smooth, you change into the red top and ripped black denim shorts Yuna picked out for you. Your best friend was much better at makeup than you were, so you let her take the lead once again. The only times you wear full makeup are for performances and you would look like a complete clown if you showed up with the two inch eyeliner you knew how to do.

Applying a small amount of base makeup to your face, Yuna went for a more natural look, knowing that you weren’t comfortable with standing out too much. Subtle brown eyeshadow and lengthening mascara made your eyes pop just the right amount and a cherry lip balm tinted your lips a translucent, shiny red. Even you had to admit your confidence was boosted from the new look you weren’t used to seeing in the mirror.

That’s me. I’m… kind of pretty

“Aw, honey, you look so beautiful,” Yuna cooed, wrapping up your makeover with a clap. She did her own makeup effortlessly and put on the discarded bralette from earlier. However ridiculous it looked on the hanger, she made it look like a million bucks and it suited her perfectly.

You moved to sit on your bed and lace up your trusty white sneakers. Yuna wore a bigger shoe size than you which came as a relief because you weren’t sure if you could handle wearing any of the daring stiletto pumps in her collection.

“You know, I’m so happy you’re going to come this time. I was always really sad when you stayed home studying every weekend instead of going out and having fun”.

“I would’ve gone if I knew how to talk to people,” you reason, picking at the dirty aglet of your shoelace, “and I’m honestly really nervous right now. You better not leave me, okay?”.

“You’re so sweet and thoughtful, anyone would be lucky to talk to you! I know it’s easier said than done, but you’d be surprised what a little confidence will do. And of course, I won’t leave you”. Yuna gave you a bright, reassuring smile before pulling you off the bed.

You take one last look at your reflection in the mirror.

That’s right, confidence. I’m confident.

“Let’s go”

The walk down to the party was much shorter than you expected. Turns out, the ‘Sheep’ lived in that sketchy house just off of campus which you made a point to avoid during your nighttime jogs. The tables were turning as you approached the rickety front porch on purpose. You clung to Yuna as an array of neon lights shines through the window blinds and the open door. The bass of a generic pop song jolted through your bones.

Walking into the home, your grip on Yuna’s arm tightened as unfamiliar faces surrounded you. The crowded room stank of sweaty bodies and weed. A countertop stocked full of red solo cups and different types of alcohol was visible from where you stood. Heads turned to stare at Yuna while the two of you entered.

What am I doing here?

“Hey, you made it!,” an unfamiliar voice shouted from over the ruckus. Your eyes fell nervously on the voice’s owner. He had dark brown hair and sharp, defined features. His accent was strange, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

“Hey!”. Yuna brought the stranger in for a loose hug. “Yangyang, this my roommate and best friend, y/n. Y/n this is Yangyang also known as ‘the sheep’. He’s from Germany”.

Ah, Germany.

You offer him a small wave, surprised when he pulls you unexpectedly into a hug.

“Nice to meet you, y/n. Mark’s told me all about you,” Yangyang smirked, “please help yourself to drinks, girls. The guys are in the basement playing pong”.

“Woo! Let’s get wasted!” Yuna yelled while pulling you towards the drinks.

You stood awkwardly at her side as she poured both of you drinks- a half a solo cup of strawberry vodka for her and a sprite zero for you. You wish you could be in bed, curled up alone with a good movie. Or even at the library studying-

“Hey,” a deep voice right next to your ear wrecked your train of thought. Alarmed, your eyes were met with the middle of a chest as you turned around to see who it was. Craning your head back, an unfamiliar, tall boy with stiffly-gelled brown hair looked down at you. You winced at the acrid smell of axe body spray now flooding your nostrils. He looked young, maybe even younger than you, but he was clearly very drunk. “Where have you been all my life?”.

“Excuse me?,” you exclaim over the booming music. The boy placed his hands on the counter on either side of you, trapping you in between his arms. Looking over to find Yuna, she had already shifted deeper into the crowd and was busy talking with other people.

“I’m Sungchan,” the boy unwelcomingly introduced, “what’s your name, beautiful?”.

“I-uh I’m y/n,” you stuttered. Sungchan’s face was way too close for comfort and his breath stank of cheap alcohol. You felt his humid exhalation brush over the top of your head like a toxic cloud and you fought to not gag.

“Y/n. You come here with anyone?”. You pressed your back as far into the counter as you could to get away from him, but there was little room to go. Fear began to set in as you realized you were trapped. What should I say? What do I do?

“I-I…”

“She came here with me”. A firm hand gripped Sungchan’s left arm and yanked it forcefully away from the counter. Your saving grace put a gentle hand on your shoulder, tugging you slightly away from the drunk perpetrator. Struggling to comprehend what was happening, you looked up to see it was Mark, staring the intoxicated boy down.

“C-captain”

“What’s a freshman doing with my girl?” Mark pressed. His expression was unamused.

Your heart trembled at his unanticipated lie. His girl? Mark brushed a reassuring thumb over your shoulder, clueing to you that he would handle this.

“I didn’t know, I-”

“Sungchan, right? You still trying to make varsity next year?,” Mark interrupted, eyebrows raised in annoyance at the freshman. Sungchan’s eyes went wide as he held both hands up innocently.

“Y-yes I-”

“Misconduct can get you kicked off the team, you know. Not to mention I’ll be senior captain next year so I’ll have a say in who makes it into varsity”.

“I’m sorry, captain, I really didn’t-”

“Fuck off”. Mark gestured his free hand towards the open front door. Sungchan looked around, as if unsure what to do. The surrounding party-goers danced and drank on, unaware of the altercation and more interested in who they were going home with tonight. Finally, the lanky boy’s head cleared enough to make a decision. Sungchan bowed slightly in apology and stumbled towards the exit. The untouched solo cup of sprite fizzed in your shaking hands.

“Are you okay?”. Mark faced you with a concerned look.

You clenched your grip tighter around your drink as you fought back tears, the shock wearing off and the gravity of the situation hitting you full-on. You set the cup down and shake your head no.

“Do you want to get out of here?”.

You nod your head vigorously and tears began streaming down your cheeks. What a waste, all of Yuna’s hard work down the drain. Mark nudged you forward and guided you towards a back door. Weaving your way through the crowd, Mark greeted his friends with a “hey” or a simple nod. You felt a few girls eye you discontentedly at the sight of Mark’s hand ghosting over the small of your back while others were too high or drunk to notice. The cool night air welcomed you as Mark urged you outside and you rushed to escape the cramped house. He shut the door behind him, muffling the heavy bass so you could finally hear yourself think.

Dabbing away at your tears so he wouldn’t see, you breathe deeply to regain your composure.

“Thanks for that”. You managed to let out after a few minutes of sniffling and silence. Your voice was slightly hoarse and you couldn’t meet his eyes, but he waited patiently by your side.

So much for coming to this party, he probably thinks I’m a mess. This whole thing was a huge mistake.

“I think I’ll go. Sorry I can’t stay”. You turn to walk down the wooden porch steps.

“Wait-”. Mark’s voice halts your departure. “Would you like to go on a walk with me? Or I can at least take you home. I don’t want you going out alone after what just happened…”.

Looking up at him, the dim porch light glowed behind him, giving him a soft golden halo. His brown eyes which were usually smiling now shone with worry as he scanned over your tear-stricken face. Your heart which was beating rapidly from fear earlier began to settle down in his reassuring presence. Being alone right now might not be the best idea. But more importantly, being with him sounded like what you really needed. You nod.

The sound of crickets chirping and sneakers scuffing took over as the two of you walked farther away from the booming music of the party. You weren’t sure where you were headed, but you also didn’t know if there was anywhere you wanted to go. Wandering down the deserted streets in comfortable silence, Mark followed you patiently as he waited for you to be ready to talk. Before you knew it, your feet brought you to the lake and you stood watching the water ripple under the night breeze. The moon, almost full, illuminated silver each ebb and flow.

“I’m sorry you’re missing the party”. You quietly broke the silence. You felt bad for making him leave. All of his friends were there and he probably really looked forward to it.

“Don’t be. I only went so I could talk to you, anyways”

You look at him in surprise. Mark’s eyes remained glued to the lake, sparkling from the reflected moonlight.

“How many girls have you told that to?,” you scoff. Internally, you screamed.

“Couldn’t name another one”

You pause before resolving to stroll further down the lakeside. The sound of footsteps behind you confirmed that he was following. Stopping as you reach the familiar creaky wood, you take a seat on the worn-out dock, him on your right. You dangle your feet over the dark, sloshing waves. It was cool, despite the summer season. A breeze rolled by, making you shudder. However cute the crop top was, it didn’t do much to keep you warm. Not that you could have planned on running away from the party and needing a sweatshirt beforehand.

“Here, take this”. Mark unzipped his jacket to give to you.

“Oh it's ok-”. You couldn’t finish your protest before the warm fabric was draped across your shoulders. Your face grew pink once more. If you didn’t know better, you could be admitted to the hospital for how much you’ve been blushing recently. “Thanks,” you mutter, looking down at your hands with a small smile.

“Is that Frankie’s?”. Mark’s voice cut through the silence.

“What?”

“Is that Frankie’s?,” Mark repeated, nodding at the small restaurant bordering the lake some distance away. It looked as if it had just closed, yellow fluorescent lights still on while a tired waitress scrubbed away at a table. Only one car, probably her’s, remained in the parking lot.

“Oh, yeah. That’s where I work part time,” you confirmed. “I come here to the dock to sit sometimes. You know, just to think”.

“I feel that. Sometimes everything is way too much to handle and you need to take time to breathe. I have a place like this too”

Mark’s sincere confession came as a surprise to you and unintentionally, it showed on your face.

“What, you don’t believe me?” Mark feigned hurt, putting a hand on his chest. “Do you think hockey guys can’t have feelings too? I have a fan club for heaven’s sake!”.

You laugh at his exaggerated outcry.

“And that’s a bad thing? Don’t you guys like the attention? Attention from lots and lots of pretty girls”. You raised an eyebrow, teasing him.

“As if,” Mark ran a stressed hand through his hair, “they’re all crazy as hell. Honestly, none of the guys really like the attention”.

You nod in understanding. Seeing how the Lovelees acted the few times you were around them, you’d hate being the subject of their affections too.

“But how about you,” Mark continued, “I haven’t seen you much at parties”.

You let out a sarcastic laugh, “if you couldn’t tell from tonight, I’m not much of a party girl. Today was my first and probably last party”. You had gotten so comfortable walking and talking with Mark that you had almost forgotten about the horrible incident that occurred earlier. Pulling the soft jacket over yourself more, your face falls as you remember Sungchan’s intoxicated face.

“Hey” Mark’s hand grazes over your slumped shoulders, bringing you back to focus on him. “I’ll never let him bother you again”.

While you were unsure of how your makeup was holding up due to all the crying, his delicate features were all the more beautiful under the pale moonlight. You notice how close you’re sitting, knees almost brushing against each other’s and his face was but inches from yours. And even though you were wearing his jacket so he was left with only a tee shirt, you were sure you weren’t imagining the heat radiating from his body. Slowly, your eyes flutter down to his parted lips.

There it is once more, the hot flush in your cheeks and the strain in your chest.

Meeting Mark has been a rollercoaster of emotions, but you felt undeniably comfortable sitting next to someone who would’ve been a stranger just a few days ago. Something about him felt familiar to you now and you trusted in his words. He was someone... safe.

“Really?,” you whisper, not taking your eyes off of his soft, pink lips.

“Really”. His confirmation was too gentle to be heard above the sound of the rushing water below, but you read his lips as they shaped around the word.

Before you know it, you were leaning in, just enough so you knew you weren’t imagining it. A mellow breeze plays with your hair, causing a few strands to fall astray. Cautiously with his hand, Mark slowly tucks the fallen pieces back behind your ear. He hesitates there. The feeling of his warm fingertips sends tingles down your spine. Carefully scanning your expression to make sure you were okay, his hand inches down to gently cup your cheek. “Can I kiss you?”.

You could feel the warmth of his breath fan across your lips, his own not centimeters away. Your heart pounded rapidly as you gave an affirming nod. Closing your eyes, you wait.

This is happening.

A jolting vibration from your pocket caused your eyes to shoot right back open and Mark let go of you in surprise. Your phone kept buzzing, the harsh sound amplified by the wooden dock. Sighing in frustration, you struggle to remove it from your back pocket as Mark looks away, coughing awkwardly. Your face burned red from embarrassment.

Why does this always happen to me?

“Hello?”. Your tone was laced with annoyance.

“Y/n! Where aare youu?,” Yuna slurred. Trap music blared in the background confirming that she was still at the party. You could hear Ten asking if Mark was with you over the ruckus.

“I left. And yeah, Mark is here”. You put the phone on speaker and held it up towards the boy you were about to kiss moments ago.

“Hey guys,” Mark said sheepishly. Yuna squealed in delight.

“That’s my boy!”. Ten’s booming voice took over the call.

“Stop it man,” Mark warned, increasingly agitated at the couple for ruining the moment.

“Okayy kids! Have fun, but not tooooo much fun”. Yuna giggled into the microphone.

“I’m hanging up,” you said quickly before pushing the red button to end the call. Any longer and you weren’t sure you could resist throwing your phone (and perhaps yourself) into the lake. A brief moment of silence ensued, both parties unsure of what to do next. Was there anything you could do to save the moment after that?

“I uh…,” you start.

“Yeah umm…,” Mark agreed. Silence ensued.

“Uhh…”. Your steady tone wavered as you started to giggle. The awkwardness dissipated because before you knew it, both of you were laughing wholeheartedly at the unfortunate situation.

“Yuna tends to have great timing,” you explain.

“Mm. Ten does too,” Mark related, stroking his chin and nodding as if thinking deeply.

“She said she wouldn’t leave me at the party but lo and behold”. You gesture to your surroundings, exasperated.

“That sucks,” Mark agreed, “you should have come found me. I was waiting for you, actually”.

“I was going to,” you picked at the zipper of his jacket, “but we had just gotten there when... you know”.

“Yeah. You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready. I don’t want to pressure you at all, but I’m always willing to listen”

“You’re,” you look for the right words, “you’re so amazing”.

“Yeah?”

You keep your gaze in your lap, “Yeah. And you know, I wish we’d met earlier, Mark. Because it’s really nice talking to you and you’re a really great guy”. You check for his reaction.

“Yeah, I wish we met sooner too”. His expression was that of… adoration.

Being with Mark was so easy. Conversation came to you two easier than anything else in life did. And just like that, feet swinging in sync above the water, you talked for hours. He told you about his alien conspiracy theories and his aspirations to be a professional hockey player and then retire into sports medicine. You told him about your parents and how you missed them dearly because they worked way out of the city to support you and your dream. You did everything you could to be able to pay them back, even majoring in economics which was more profitable than environmental studies or professional skating. Mark listened thoughtfully and admitted that he related in a lot of ways with his parents being all the way in Canada.

The night rushed by and the two of you talked until the golden peaks of sunrise painted the water from its usual blue. You had shifted so you were sitting facing each other on the dock. The early sunlight cast a warm glow over Mark’s face. He looked like a painting- a Monet. Or a Renoir.

“Um so, I guess it’s Sunday now”. Mark rested his chin into the crook of his elbow. You could hear the tired in his voice, but you mutually understood that neither of you wanted to leave.

“Do you have to go?”. You picked at a piece of fuzz on the sleeve of his sweatshirt which you were still wearing. The disappointment was evident in your question. Even though you had spent the whole night getting to know each other, it felt like you had just barely scratched the surface. There was still so much more you wanted to talk about.

Checking his watch, Mark contemplated for a bit.

“It’s 6:12 a.m. right now. I actually have to get somewhere by 6:30,” Mark explained.

“So early?”

“Yeah it’s… you could come with me if you want?”. His sleepy eyes twinge with hope.

You look to the lake, the sparkling ripples tinted gold with the rising sun. Sunday was usually a rest day for you and you didn’t have anything planned. As fatigued as you felt, everything in you wanted to accept his invitation. You cracked a small smile, getting up to stretch your legs. You hold out a hand to help him up.

“Lead the way”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you home? This might not be fun for you…”

Mark’s expression was worried as the two of you stood at the entrance of the local church, the doors open and you could see rows of tables and food set up as if ready for people at any minute. The streets were starting to bustle as the world began to wake up. A volunteer from inside the church spotted you, walking out to give his greetings.

“Mark!,” the man called out as he pulled Mark in for a warm hug, “good morning!”.

His eyes turned towards you and Mark moved to introduce you.

“Daniel, this is y/n. Y/n, this is Daniel. We volunteer together here at the church to serve breakfast to the homeless,” Mark disclosed.

“Nice to meet you, Daniel”. You shake his hand with a smile. Gosh, I probably look like a mess right now. I didn’t even get to change or take off the makeup from the party yesterday. You self-consciously zip up Mark’s oversized jacket to hide your exposed midriff.

“Nice to meet you, y/n! This is the first time Mark has brought a… friend here”. Daniel’s eyes darted between you and Mark with an assuming smile.

“Yeah,” Mark coughed, turning to you, “do you want me to take you home? This probably isn’t what you expected I don’t know why I-”

“No,” you interrupted, “I’d like to stay and volunteer”. Offering him a reassuring smile, you rest your hand on his arm to show him that you were okay. There was truth to his worries when Mark said this wasn’t what you were expecting. You never would have thought that a popular guy like him woke up early on the weekends to help the needy. Evidently, he did it out of the kindness of his own heart, not for attention. You always imagined it was all parties and messing around, but you were pleasantly proven wrong.

“Great! Mark can show you around and get you started,” the older man clapped before heading inside.

“You’re kind of awesome, you know that?”. Mark’s question caught you off guard. He slipped his hand into yours to lead you into the building, the simple action sending your heart into a frenzy.

“Awesome how?”

“Just… awesome,” Mark clarified cryptically, holding the door open for you to enter the storage room. He tosses you a green volunteer shirt.

“Alright, I’ll take the compliment,” you laugh, taking off his jacket and handing it to him. To your surprise, he pushes it back to you.

“You keep it. I like it a lot better on you”

Mark Lee if you keep saying things like this, I’m going to catch on fire.

You fight to put out the flames spreading across your cheeks and give a single nod, setting the sweatshirt down on a nearby box. Not willing to strip in front of him in the church storage room, you pull the volunteer shirt over on top of the shirt you were already wearing.

“So anyways,” Mark continued as if he didn’t just say the most romantic thing you’ve heard in your life, “the people will start coming in about 20 minutes. Our job is to portion out the food and once everyone is served, we can go eat and talk with them”.

“Got it”

“Here, let me get this for you”. His hand guided your waist to spin around as he pulled an apron over your head. Tying the back of the garment together, your breath hitches in your throat as you feel his fingers brush under the fabric of your shirt. You turn your face to the side and you can see his soft expression in your peripheral vision. The heat from his body behind yours feels so welcoming.

I wish he’d kiss me right now.

And he wants to. He tries to. He’s leaning in and everything is perfect. Your heart is beating fast as you tilt your head back, but like clockwork, a jolting buzz from his pants makes you jump apart. No, not like that.

“I swear to God, I’m throwing away my phone”. Mark ran a frustrated hand through his hair, picking up the kiss-blocking call. “Hello?”. You sighed.

You watch as the annoyed expression on his face fades into shock as the speaker on the other side panicked through the phone. Your own frustration transforms into concern as Mark looks at you and you catch the words “car” and “hospital”. Mark paces back and forth.

“Alright, I got it. Yeah, she’s with me. I’ll tell her. We’ll come right now. Don’t worry, Ten, she’s going to be fine”

“What is it?,” you ask as soon as he hangs up the call, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and worry.

“It’s Yuna…,” Mark trailed off, shocked by the news. Your heart dropped down to your feet.

“What about Yuna?” Your voice shook with panic.

“She-she was in a car accident. She’s at the hospital right now”

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msdvine · 3 years

Text

TLDR. too many mommy issues. reformed piece of shit who used to be a high school bully but is now 64% angel, thinks she’s funny and her best friend is her dad.

* taveeta szymanowicz, cisfemale + she/her | you know DAYANA DEVINE, right? they’re TWENTY-FOUR , and they’ve lived in irving for, like, TEN YEARS ? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to SEASHORE BY REGRETTES like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole ( velvet red mini skirts hiding insecurities, a smirk worn to suppress mean words, the faint taste of liquor on her lips ) thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is JANUARY 11TH, so they’re a CAPRICORN, which is unsurprising, all things considered.

A LITTLE ABOUT GROWING UP .

tw. alcohol, bullying mention, very short mention of verbal abuse. anything else i forgot to add just yell at me !!

she grew up with her father after her mother abandoned them without blinking an eye which turned out to be for the best since her mom was a raging alcoholic who spewed words of venom often. her father worked his ass off to provide for the two of them in irving, they struggled for quite a few years; eviction notices, threats of their electricity getting shut off, splitting frozen lunch meals, until he finally found a steady good paying job to provide for them.

still, dayana felt incredibly powerless. control is something a lot of teenagers yearn for and she found it incredibly challenging to have when the universe stacked all their cards against her. until high school ! where she finally allowed her mother’s killer instincts kick in, and found herself on top of the food chain rather than being stomped on like she’s used to. truly , an evil little bitch . dumping milk on her fellow classmates’ head to get a laugh, taking unflattering photos and uploading them online, emitting poison from her lips for the sake of doing so. she didn’t necessarily enjoy it, no matter how it looked, every time she’d look at herself in the mirror she’d see her mother staring back at her but, to her, it was survival. in that lame-ass cliche high school sort of way.

her reality check didn’t come into play until her second semester of college, where she decided to work through her mommy issues with a therapist in an attempt to redeem all of her wrongdoing. she knows, however, that the damager she caused for others is likely still present and is doing her best to make things rights.

PERSONALITY .

she can still have a mean streak though! she is REFORMED BUT NOT TAMED. she’s usually quite good at biting her tongue but sometimes judgement and cruel words slip out unintentionally, it’s a work in progress. but seriously she’s 5′4 like just push her down

as for the rest of her personality, especially now that she’s older, she’s loyal as fuck ! gives the best hugs since touch is her love language! will cut off her arm to make her friends smile! drinks tequila like it’s water on the weekends and will always be your bad influence to encourage you to do the drugs she’s too pussy to take.

an absolute flirt !!! boys, girls, she can’t help it baaaaby.

she understands she’s not perfect and has done some pretty fucked up things

TYPE 3 WITH 2 WING AKA PLEASE ACCEPT ME. SHE WILL DO WHATEVER POSSIBLE FOR PEOPLE TO BE PROUD OF HER.

super arrogant but super insecure. make it make sense.

thinks she’s funnier than she is. quotes way too many memes.

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

exes / previous high school sweethearts / fwb & the usual . we can talk about whether it’s on good or bad terms !

former best friend . think of heathers , her as heather duke and her friend as heather chandler ! after she got reformed , talked shit out in therapy , she unfortunately cut this person off , no matter how close they were.

prior victims. as i said, she used to be hella mean , maybe they’ve talked since then , maybe they haven’t. perhaps this person still hasn’t forgiven her ( we can talk about how bad it was , but probs v bad ). either way let her kiss ass to make things right .

ROOMMATES X

idk she could have been the villain anyone needs in their story .

ANYTHING !! gimme connects pls ! that one person who bumped ur muse on a train in the 1800s idk idk anything

(STATS THAT NO ONE CARES ABOUT)

#irvingintro #this sucks but wanted connections are at the bottom x #BUT LOVE US #alcohol tw #abuse tw #bullying tw #IM SO EXCITED CAN U HEAR ME YELL

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junmyeonning · 4 years

Text

Touch me — 1

Type: Series

Pairing: Kim Junmyeon (EXO Suho) X Unnamed OFC

Rated: M (no smut yet)

Summary: He's the manager at the library. Smart, polite, and most obviously, incredibly sexy. She doesn't want the opportunity to pass so she teases the hell out of him. Until he breaks...

Previous: part 0.5

Warnings: a bit of an age gap (30 and early 20s)

Word count: 3.8k

Tags: @fightoh @suhotly @ctc95 @suhowifeuu @smolpeyy @lavellanfriendliness @eggsoyehet @ohsehunxv

—

Monday comes around. Her classes were cut short for the day, so she and her friend decide to grab a bite and hang out.

"So how is it so far? I've heard that professor is no joke."

"Oh god don't get me started," she thinks back on all the crap that's been dumped onto her ever since starting the semester. "It's only week two and it's been hell... I don't know how I'm gonna pass this subject."

"Well unfortunately you know how it is. And if I'm being honest, his tests are even harder." Her friend Jenna grimaces.

"Ugh you're kidding me..." she sighs in defeat, regretting how she didn't take up this general subject earlier and got it over with. But now she has no choice.

"-go back over notes after each class or you'll totally be screwed." She listens to the last part after unintentionally blocking out Jenna's voice, her eyes widening at that last statement.

"But I don't wannaa... not my style." She whines, taking a small bite from her sandwich. Jenna raises her brows at her friend's childish manners.

"...'Style'..."

"Fine okay, whatever I guess. Let's talk about something else." She shrugs it off, changing the topic for now. It stays at the back of her mind though, wondering in what ways can she make this situation a bit more tolerable. She has other classes after all, a shit ton of assignments, and it can be depressing to her if she forces herself and she knows it... that's just the way she is. Maybe a change of scenery while studying?

She thinks back on different places she's been recently, places with a calming atmosphere, possibly quiet...

All of a sudden she's reminded of the library and that one encounter with its attractive manager. It has almost slipped her mind, but now looking back at it she feels more eager to revise today's lecture.

She makes up her mind to stop by the place before heading home.

—

She enters it once again, getting butterflies in her stomach when recalling what happened the last time she was here.

Technically nothing really happened... but she saw this insanely cute guy. And he smiled. And waved. That's something right? To her longer than admitted relationship-less life, it is actually considered something.

She doesn't see him at first glance, so she tells herself to stop acting like a teenager. Later, time to study now. She promises herself.

She takes a seat at the same place as her previous visit, settling down and pulling out her book and notes in front of her. She can't stop herself as she raises her head a little to look, and it's not too hard to find him this time while he's standing by the shelves talking to a customer.

Their eyes meet by chance, and he flashes her that gorgeous smile yet again. She notices how extra warm he's looking today, wearing a sweater this time with some shirt under it. And of course, those damn glasses.

She smiles back 'casually', an exact opposite from what she feels on the inside. Why is her heart jumping like this? She blames his cute looks and that attractive gentleman aura of his.

She forcefully peels her eyes away from him, telling herself to seriously calm the fuck down.

Five minutes go by, nothing changes. Then ten minutes. Then fifteen. She's re-reading the same lines yet to no avail, her mind refusing to absorb any kind of information for the time being.

She feels frustrated when she looks up again, this time not finding him anywhere in sight. She looks right and left, wondering where he had disappeared when suddenly someone from behind her speaks.

"Looking for something ?" She almost jumps when she hears his voice. He comes into view and grins at her reaction.

"Huh? No nothing, I'm studying." She laughs it off, pointing at her displayed papers.

"Ah okay then. Good luck!" He gives her a cute little thumbs up in encouragement then turns to leave. She feels disappointed, knowing this could've went on for a little longer, but no unfortunately it's time to focus back again on her school work.

Fifteen more minutes pass by, and she starts to feel irritated with her lack of accomplishment. She's basically wasting her time doing nothing, and the library itself is so boring and empty, so she decides to just leave. She can't stay here when her mind is this occupied, it might've been a not so good idea in the first place.

On her way out she passes by him leaning against the front desk holding his phone. He has a surprised look on his face when he sees her.

"Oh, finished already ?"

"Well to be honest," she hesitates on telling him what's bothering her, but whatever. "I was trying to go over what I've taken today but I'm just so out of focus. I guess i'll go home and look it up or something."

"Hm..." he locks his phone and puts it away, giving her all his attention. "Maybe I can pull you out a book in here that'll help explain better ?" he offers.

"Sure, if you have anything on this." She shows him her book, making him raise his brows in acknowledgment as he takes it in.

"Ohh." He lets out a laugh, clearly amused. She's confused and he sees it, so he explains.

"I remember studying this subject back in college." He chuckles. She makes an 'oh' face in realisation, and that's when it clicks in her mind. Let's give it a shot.

"Ooh, how was it for you?"

"Hmm, I was pretty good at it actually." Perfect.

"What if... you help me out a little then? I don't think more reading will do me anything at this point." She subconsciously gives him a cute puppy face, and it's not hard to convince him to agree to her.

"Sure. As you can clearly tell," he gestures with his hands around him at the deserted library. "It's a very busy day today."

She giggles at his sarcasm. Wow he's a joker too.

"Hey watch over the place a little, I'm just gonna be over there helping her." He instructs his co-worker, then turns around and heads in front of her to where she was sitting earlier. She skips behind him, mentally cheering herself for her successful plan.

He goes over the pages for a little, quickly getting reminded of the topic before starting to point and explain some key points.

His voice is gentle and his tone is so calm, speaking like he knows what he's saying and putting it into words perfectly. One minute into it and she feels like she's in a trance, the only thing she's focusing on is him.

Then her eyes start wandering, looking down at his lips while they're moving and forming words. She doesn't understand what he's saying at this point, just nodding along mindlessly and agreeing with whatever he's talking about. Until he asks her a question on the topic.

"...Huh?"

"What I just explained now."

"Oh yeah yeah! That..." she thinks for a second, having zero idea on what he just said. He notices and closes his eyes in disappointment.

"Was I not clear or..." he wonders genuinely, in which she quickly starts denying with wide eyes.

"No no no! It's actually the opposite, you're so good," she stumbles, not knowing how to say it. "I guess your way of explaining is..."

"Yeah?" He replies in a lower, more careful tone, and she almost melts under his gaze.

"Um," she laughs lightly, almost nervous, but she dares say it. "...distracting maybe?"

She feels time go by so slowly at that second, waiting for his reaction.

"Oh... I'm sorry then," he rubs his neck in embarrassment and looks down at the book. "Then our time was just wasted."

What? She's shocked that this is just what he understood from her. After throwing all these hints and signals towards him, he's apologising?

"Hey, manager Kim you were literally perfect. I'm the one who should apologise here I told you I'm having trouble focusing today," she feels bad for putting him in this situation, she's the one who wasted his time, just because of her silly crush. "I'm sorry."

"No it's okay, don't worry about it." He gives her a reassuring smile, and her heart does that weird jump again. For the love of god stop being so cute. She says in her head.

"Okay, see you later?" She smiles back at him. He nods and they both get up, she starts putting her stuff away.

"Wait, what is your name?"

"Oh, it's Junmyeon." She tells him her own name, then leaves her things for a second to wrap her arms around him in a hug.

"Thank you Junmyeon." He staggers a little in surprise, standing there taken aback with his hands still in the air. He reacts then and pats her back with a laugh.

"No problem, I was entertained actually." She steps back from him and looks up in confusion.

"Huh? What's so entertaining about teaching."

"Uhm," he glances away with a small smile, before chuckling and shaking his head. "It just kind of reminded me of my college days."

She giggles at the way he's acting like a grandpa, when in reality he looks exactly like a cute little bunny with those cheeks of his.

"Stop I bet it's not that far."

"Oh but it is."

"How far?" She asks him and he takes a moment to think back on it.

"Hmm I don't know, nine years maybe?" She couldn't help herself from gasping, making him laugh in response. "Wow I look that young huh."

"So you're like thirty? Is that right?"

"Yep." She's struggling with keeping her thoughts in her head, her mind running a million thoughts per second. Something about this new info of him being in his thirties makes him more appealing to her, she doesn't know why but she feels even more attracted to him now.

"Thirty is still young by the way." She comments on what he said, and he shrugs it off with a 'sure whatever'. They share smiles and laughs during the whole exchange.

She takes her bag and waves him goodbye, heading back home while her stomach is still feeling all jittery.

She can't stop thinking about him even when she's unlocking the door to her apartment, having spent all the ride home recalling their now second encounter. She remembers how sweet he was to agree help her (even if she was a little shit who kept staring at his mouth), and how gentle and mature he sounds when he talks, and the way he has smiled at her multiple times by now. Seriously? Those precious looking smiles directed at her? What is the intention, to melt her heart into a little puddle at his feet?

She bites her lip from smiling too big, feeling like a complete idiot just standing there in front of her wardrobe still in her day clothes.

Her mind is telling her she needs to see more of that cute library manager.

—

Unfortunately for a week or so, that didn't exactly happen.

Of course life got in the way, and for the past few days she couldn't even think of anything else with how busy she's gotten. Now with an important quiz coming up, she's extra nervous about it and studied it to hell and back.

She leaves all her papers and gets up, wanting to get a breather and just get the hell out for a little bit. It's nighttime, she's still in her pyjamas, she doesn't even know where she's going, hut all she's thinking is fuck it as she grabs her phone and keys. It is kind of reckless to just leave like this, but in her head she says maybe she'll just go to her close-by usual café or whatever.

Just as she arrives at that spot, she looks a little down the street at the familiar place she hasn't thought of these days. What has he been up to? Did he think of me at all? She wonders.

She figures seeing him will instantly make her mood better, so she crosses out her initial plan and heads to the library.

She pushes the door open, looking around and seeing it practically empty again at this hour. What if he's not on his shift? She clearly didn't think it through, but she ignores the voice in her head and gives it a try as she struts around casually.

She passes the aisles one by one, until she finally lays eyes on what she was looking for. Or more specifically, who she was looking for. She wants to sigh in relief, he might just be the highlight in her otherwise miserable week.

"Oh, manager Kim!" She walks up to him as he was apparently arranging some books. He looks up when hearing his name, quickly recognising her and smiling in her way.

"Oh hey," he continues his work on the shelf. "Haven't seen you for a while."

Damn you, heart. Calm. Down.

"Yeah you know, college, life," she stands beside him, attempting at any sort of conversation. "What are you doing there ?"

"Stocking some new books, almost done with my shift now," he puts up another one. "Did you come here to talk to me or to actually study ?"

He says it jokingly without even looking, so she decides to muster up and just say some of the truth.

"Umm, both I guess?" He pauses and looks at her now. She smiles innocently at him, biting her lip subtly, which in return makes him glance down at her lips before looking back into her eyes. He clears his throat awkwardly and looks away, putting up the last book in his hand.

"So you want something from here or can we just..." he means to leave but she quickly comes up with a lie.

"Wait, uh I need a book from there actually." She points at a place behind him randomly. He turns around to look, then looks back to her confused.

"Where?"

"Oh right there I think..." he goes along with her and walks over to where she pointed, somewhere farther behind aisles close to a corner.

"What exactly-" he spins back to face her, only to find her directly standing in front of him. He laughs in surprise. "When did you follow me this fast ?"

"I walked up right behind you." She smiles, now very much close to cornering him against the wall of books.

"Are you sure you meant a book..." he laughs it off, looking visibly more nervous now.

"Yeah, what else ?" She casually pulls out a random book from beside him. "Found it."

She opens it and stares a little, pretending to have interest in whatever the hell she just pulled out on a whim. He furrows his brows as he takes the book from her hand, looking at the title and stifling a laugh.

"10th grade physics. Interesting."

"Does it matter ?" She lets out a little laugh, taking it back from his hands and throwing it to the side.

She's getting more serious now as comes closer to him, looking up into his eyes and giving him that look. Her bottled up feelings are coming up and she just can't stop them, her mind clouded and her frustrations from everything in her life right now is making her act out more than usual.

"Junmyeon..." he looks back at her, not saying a word as she comes closer and closer.

Their faces are so near from each other now, her eyes darting down to his lips then back up, her intentions very clear.

"What are you doing..." he whispers just as their lips almost connect, eyes closed by now.

"Isn't it obvious?" She whispers back, and finally goes in for it.

Their lips touch softly, staying still for a few seconds. She begins moving her mouth so slowly, kissing him and testing the waters. Before realising he still hasn't moved a centimetre.

She pulls back a little, looking up at him while his eyes are still closed. She calls his name in a careful tone to see his response, and he opens his eyes and looks down at her.

"...you shouldn't have done that." Her heart sinks a little.

"Why not ?" She gets closer again, their breaths hitting each other's faces as she tilts her head up to the side, waiting for him to make the move this time. Their lips are so close, all he has to do is press his down onto hers like she did earlier

But he doesn't. He's not pulling away, but he doesn't move in for it either.

When she sees he's not initiating anything, she moves back away from his personal space and looks at him with disappointment.

"What is it?"

"You know... it doesn't work." He looks at her with pleading eyes.

"What doesn't work? Give me a reason." She presses. He seemed into her enough to not pull away, and she caught him a few times eyeing her, specifically her lips, it doesn't make sense that he backs off this way.

"I... you're too young." He murmurs, not making any eye contact whatsoever. She crosses her arms.

"I'm twenty one... if that's your reasoning, remember we're both of age here and we're free to make our own choices." He looks conflicted, like he agrees with what she's saying but still holding himself back. She holds both his hands in hers, leaning in close to him once again and tilting her head.

“Come on, do it," she whispers. "Kiss me..."

Time is moving so slow as he leans down his head finally, getting his lips closer to hers. It is clear that he wants her too, and she awaits the moment that their lips touch once again, but he just stops there.

"I-I'm not sure..."

"Okay then hear me out," she stands back away from him, sighing as she gives it a thought. "Let's go on a date. If you're still unsure, we'll leave it at that for good."

The eye contact feels too strong, and he takes a few second to make a decision as he nods slowly.

"Okay ?"

"Yes, okay."

They exchange numbers and go to part ways, but not before her giving him a sweet smile in reassurance as she's leaving. The corners of his mouth lift up slightly as he smiles back at her, growing more and more convinced in his decision of agreeing to go on this date with her.

In his mind, he has never went for women who aren't within his age range, so this is definitely very new for him. He knows nine years isn't really the smallest number, but like she said it won't hurt to give it a chance since they're both adults here.

He is still looking at where she left with a small smile, shaking his head as he can't believe what had just happened. She knows what she wants... and it's damn hot. He admits to himself.

Finally snapping out of it, he attempts to push all thoughts of her out of his mind for the time being. It's way too early to try and guess what's going to happen on their date...

He continues to pack some stuff up and close the place for the night, with her still lingering at the back of his head against his own will. He might just enjoy their time together more than he initially thought, and he can't help but look forward to it.

So being the person that he is, as soon as he enters his home he types her up a text.

'Hey there, did you get home safely?

Just wanted to say that even though I wasn't sure at first- you shouldn't worry about anything now. I actually can't wait to see you again.'

He looks at it and frowns. Too wordy, very unnecessary over-explanations. Why the sudden nerves?

'Hey there, did you get home safely?'

He goes with just that for now, leaving his phone on the bed as he starts changing into something more comfortable for the night. Just when he pulls off his shirt, he hears the familiar new message sound making him leave his closet open and go check her reply.

'Yup.' He reads her simple answer. He starts typing again but she beats him to it, a picture of her suddenly popping up in a message bubble.

She's lying down on her bed in the dim lights of her room, holding up a peace sign while flashing him her pearly whites in a cute smile. He catches himself smiling back instinctively, quickly typing up a reply.

'Good.'

Send.

'Just wanted to check in on you.'

Send.

He locks his phone momentarily and throws it back on the bed, taking off his pants now and deciding to wear just some sweatpants to sleep. His duvet is pretty thick so he didn't bother.

He lies down finally, checking his phone again to see two new messages from none other than her.

'Aw seriously?'

'Well let me check in on you too... where's my cute pic :('

He laughs out loud at that. That little...

He looks down at himself, very topless, and that gets his mind going.

'Sorry, can't do cute pics atm.'

'Can I ask why, mister?'

'...sure you wanna see ?'

Over at her home she's reading his text once more, her heartbeat accelerating when she thinks on the possible meanings behind what he's saying. He's flirting back, holy shit-

'Bring it on, manager Kim.' And send.

She picks at her nails as she waits in anticipation, and that damn 'ding' rings in her ear as she quickly opens his newly sent photo.

He's mimicking her own picture, lying down on his back as well and holding up a peace sign. But what's very different is his obvious naked upper half, the covers coming up at just below his chest. His chest to her surprise looking muscular and very toned.

Her eyes also take in his shoulders and arms, feeling herself about to drool with this rather suggestive picture. She already found him pretty sexy before in all these baggy sweaters and shirts, but now knowing all of this is underneath takes it to a whole new level.

Her hands start to sweat as she ponders what to say next, feeling her body getting hot overall.

'Saved. ✅'

He smirks to himself at her response, having noticed how long it took for her to type it. Oh well she asked for it.

Time goes by unnoticed as they continue this playful/flirty texting back and forth, feeling more at ease with each other and for him a lot less tense.

Later on they find themselves going to sleep that night with a clichéd smile across their faces, the instant click between them being something of a pleasant surprise. The start of a beautiful and exciting thing perhaps.

—

(A/N): obviously I apologise for how late I posted this. I swear i have commitment problems to projects… dw it’s because we haven’t got to the good stuff 😈 can’t wait to show you what i have in mind

Comment if you wanna be tagged in all future parts! ♥️

Thanks everyone! Xx

#exo smut #suho smut #junmyeon smut #kim junmyeon smut #exo fanfic #suho fanfic #junmyeon fanfic #kim junmyeon fanfic #exo #suho #junmyeon #kim junmyeon

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bettsfic · 3 years

Text

march pinned: ending the sex project

in the march edition of my lowkey writing-related newsletter, in addition to my writing-related post roundup and upcoming consultation availability, i have personal essay recommendations and a segment on the definition of a project!

for more information on my creative coaching services, check out my carrd.

if you want to receive my lowkey writing-related newsletter directly, you can subscribe here.

full newsletter below the cut, or you can read it here.

fuck february, amiright?

i thought january was bad. but february. february was the stuff of nightmares. my cousin passed away from covid (you can read about her here; she was really an amazing person and i feel so lucky to have known her). i was finally formally diagnosed with PCOS (bittersweet, i guess). my car broke down. i took two (2) days off and it took me two and a half weeks to get caught up again. i can only hope march treats us all a little more gently.

the good news is, i finished revisions on my short story collection to send to my agent, finished workshop submissions for the semester, and now i can return to my first love, fanfiction. that i am constantly working through original fiction to return to fanfiction has been making me think a lot about the nature of a creative, capital-p Project. so, this month’s BTALA (been thinkin a lot about) is going to inspect the concept of a “project.”

new resource

last month i unveiled a folder of my favorite short stories which i’m pleased to hear several of you have perused and gotten some inspiration from. this month i’ve compiled my favorite personal essays. there are fewer essays than there are short stories because i’ve broken them into two groups: personal and craft. next month i hope to have the craft essays compiled.

i’m always looking for more things to love, so if you have recommendations for your favorite short stories and essays, i’d be happy to hear them!

writing-related posts

how to physically maneuver the revision process

the difference between M and E ratings of fic

resources for worldbuilding (check out the reblogs for more!)

a couple syntax/prose book recs

how to break a long work into chapters

march availability

unfortunately i have to cut my coaching hours down a bit, so i don’t have any openings left in march, but i have some availability in april. if you’re interested in a writing consultation, please fill out this google form!

you can learn more about my services on my carrd.

what i’m into rn

for the past year, i’ve basically been trapped in a 10x10 room, and my health is definitely reflecting that, both mentally (does anyone else feel like they’re living in groundhog day? just, every day being exactly the same except fractionally worse than the day before??) and physically (i reorganized the kitchen and could barely move for two days).

reader, i have discovered something called “walking,” in which i put on real human shoes and go outside. it feels strange, bestial. neighbors wave hello to me. a harrowing experience.

while doing this, this walking, i’ve been listening to the lolita podcast which a friend recommended to me, a ten-episode series that dives into everything lolita: the novel itself, its context, adaptations, greater cultural responses, and — as a sticker on my laptop says — vladimir “russian dreamboat” nabokov. as far as i can tell it seems well-researched and presents the many perspectives of lolita in a fair way. i’m only a few eps in, but i’m entranced so far. highly recommended if you, like me, have a complicated relationship with lolita.

i’ve also found myself mildly addicted to a mobile otome game called obey me, which. look i know it’s like the definition of cringe but it’s also mind-numbingly fun and if i want to spend my minimal free time pretending 7 demon brothers are all vying for my affection then that’s between me and god. it’s a lot of what i loved about WoW: frequent events, bright colors, a daily to do list of simple but satisfying tasks, many many rewards, and it doesn’t take itself very seriously. and if i have 4k fic written of mammon/reader that’s nobody’s business but mine and my longsuffering ao3 subscribers.

i’m telling you this because i don’t know anyone else who plays it and am desperate to trade headcanons. so if you play, or start playing, hit me up!! i will give u mad tips and daily AP.

been thinkin a lot about

the project. the project. even the word “project.” PROject (noun). proJECT (verb). what is the project? “project” comes from the latin pro and jacare which means “to throw forward,” or projectum which means “something prominent.” a projector throws forward an image. to project onto something means to throw your perspective onto something else. to embark on a project is to make something prominent in your life. the concept of “the projects” comes from public housing projects, the government throwing forward affordable housing.

what is the project? in joseph harris’ essay “coming to terms” he says that “to define the project of a writer is…to push beyond his text, to hazard a view about not only what someone has said but also what he was trying to accomplish by saying it.” harris’ perspective is that of an english teacher encouraging his students to read critically, not just to summarize a text but to find its project, its greater purpose. and while i first read this essay in a seminar on composition pedagogy, it stuck with me as a writer. it made me reconsider the greater nature of the creative project.

how many of us, if asked to describe our writing project, would begin with a plot or character premise, the nuts and bolts of a specific story? maybe even the working title? but i wonder, is breaking out the plot really the project? is the discipline of sitting down and typing really the project? and when the story is finished, is the project over? what is the project?

in 2019, i wrote 86k words of a novel. i began revising that novel last fall, and i’m finding that i’ll probably keep maybe less than 10k of that initial draft. i’m not bothered by that. the novel i wrote before that started at 125k, then i rewrote the entire thing to 200k, then i whittled it back down to 160k, and next i’ll be tasked with paring it back down to 80k. i’m not bothered by that either. in the past five years or so i’ve written about 2 million words, and i’ve only published 20k of them. only 1% of what i’ve written, i’ve published. in the words of lauren cooper (catherine tate), i’m not bothered.

i used to see publication as the birth of the project, and writing it akin to a long gestation period. then i saw publication as the death of the project, and its life was lived in its drafting. now, publication seems irrelevant to the project. the confines of a story and its many revisions are also irrelevant to the project. the beginning of a story is not the start of the project and the end of the story is not the end of the project. the project is larger than the story, its revisions, its publication, and its eventual readership.

i think it took me so long to see this because for so many years i was still in my first project, the sex project, an exploration of trauma and sexual identity, which began in 2014 with destiel fanfiction, endured through many fandom shifts, my MFA, years adrift as an adjunct, all the way through 2020 with the completion of my short story collection. i used to wonder how anyone could write about anything other than sex. to me it was the only topic worth my attention. i was certain that i would spend my entire life being a sex writer and i’d never find fulfillment writing a young adult sci fi adventure or a highly literary novel about complicated family dynamics. i was baffled by people who were interested in other things, who could write entire novels without using the word “cock” even once.

then my sex project ended. i don’t know when exactly it happened or why, but suddenly i realized i never wanted to write another artful description of an orgasm or find a tactful euphemism for a vagina ever again (personally i prefer “wet cunt” because not only is it blunt, i find it phonetically pleasing). obviously i’m still writing explicit fanfic but it doesn’t feel the same as it used to. sex feels more sidelined to me, even if it’s still the center and drive of a fic. i no longer get any personal satisfaction from writing it, although i do get satisfaction in sharing the work for readers to enjoy.

it’s like i’ve somehow solved the biggest puzzle of my life. or i guess made peace with my meanest monster, that extremely complicated double-mind of desire that some non-sex-repulsed asexuals feel: you want to feel desire you can’t actually feel so you write it into fiction, to try to understand this thing you can’t have and which society tells you you’re missing, and you don’t even know if you don’t have it, because you still feel desire for affection and intimacy, and maybe even a desire to be desired. and for those of us who are asexual and have c-ptsd, sex you don’t actually want (but don’t know you don’t want, because maybe you’re ambivalent and mildly curious and touch-starved) and an unrelenting drive toward people-pleasing can be a dangerous combination. how can you ever know what consent is if you always put other people’s desires above your own?

maybe i’m alone in this. maybe i’m not. maybe for most people, wanting sex is a light switch: yes i want it, or no i don’t. but for me, i had to write a whole lot of words to figure out things like desire, consent, intimacy, forgiveness, the shape that good love takes. the lengthy theoretical flowchart of “i might be interested in having sex if this and this and this and this and this happens in this exact order and under these exact circumstances.”

it was hard to write something into reality that i have never seen except in pieces, in subtext i clung to with no lexicon to give it shape and meaning. te lawrence in lawrence of arabia. some of tarantino’s early work. the film benny and joon. and weirdly, the star wars prequels (that one’s hard to explain; i’ll spare you). i don’t think the sex project was about coming to terms with my asexuality as much as it was trying to organize my thoughts and feelings by continuously rendering my own experiences within a greater, shinier ideal — like how you sometimes have to unravel the entire skein of yarn to find the loose end, and only then can you get started.

i guess i’m in the infancy of the power project now. i’m moving toward themes of control, infamy, greatness. the exact circumstances in which atrocity occurs. how people rise into leadership and fall from grace. the consequences of success. i don’t know why this project has come to me, or what, if anything, it has to do with me. i’m not famous and have no intention of becoming famous; i don’t have social power or influence, at least not beyond my little corner of fandom, and i’m not interested in having it. and yet, here we are, already hundreds of thousands of words in.

my fics digging for orchids (tgcf) and a standing engagement (the hunger games) deal with the detriments of fame. and even float (breaking bad) to a degree is about the aftermath of being so close to power. my novel cherry pop, loosely based on macbeth, is about an ongoing power exchange between two teenage girls. my other novel, vandal, is about a girl who believes she has magic powers and casts a spell on her neighbor to fall in love with her. and i’m in the very early stages of a novel called groundswell, a cult story i’ve been wanting to write for years. i had no idea why i couldn’t write it until i realized it wasn’t yet my project. i’m not even to the stage of developing characters, let alone a premise or plot. i’m still just building my aesthetic pile (i discuss the aesthetic pile here, as well as vandal in more detail), watching documentaries on cults, reading books, finding inspiration, marking down ideas as they come. it may be years before i’m ready to sit down and write it.

now that i know what the project is, i have more patience with myself. it doesn’t bother me to rewrite a novel from the beginning, or to scrap novels altogether, because the story isn’t the project. the project cannot be diminished by cutting words, sentences, paragraphs, entire chapters. the project does not have a product. the project cannot be published. the project is in the practice, in dragging the impossibly large into clear, acute existence, so you can see it. so you can see the very center of what you thought was an unknowable thing.

#pinned #lkwrnl

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ruzek-halstead · 4 years

Text

baby project

pairing: jay halstead x hailey upton

jay deliberately misses a health credit and is forced to take a parenting class with his favourite blonde. this includes a weekend with a fake baby, little sleep and heart-to-hearts.

“what are we naming her? i promised adam i would consider his name as an option.”

(high school au)

masterlist

warnings: swearing, fluffery

“time to hand out your new babies!”

jay’s face paled.

how did he manage to get himself into this situation? he deliberately missed a health credit, hoping his extracurricular activities such as sports would be enough. but clearly, he wasn’t that lucky after being pulled into his guidance counsellor’s office and being told his only option was to take a health class specifically focused on parenting. at such late notice, it was the only class with an open spot that could count towards his requirements.

it was mostly fine.

hailey happened to be in that class and he was able to half-ass through it because his best friend is ridiculously smart. she’d only huff when he inched over to peek at her notes but even she couldn’t resist his grin.

however, this was an assignment where he couldn’t use his excellent level of bullshit. it was the final project of the semester and worth 30% of their final grade. in pairs of two, they were to care for a fake baby, who in reality, acts just like a real baby. it recorded everything and if you took too long to respond to its crying, or hold its neck the wrong way, it docked marks.

luckily for him, hailey agreed to be his partner, because he genuinely believed he’d fail without her. unfortunately, her genius brain alone was not enough to help them excel in this project.

“halstead, boy or girl?”

oh, and the best part about this course? they had been short on teachers at the beginning of the school year, so somehow jay’s lacrosse coach (who hates everything and everyone) was convinced to teach the course.

jay looked at hailey in a panic, unsure of his answer. “uh, i don’t know?”

“that’s not an answer, halstead!” coach jacobs yelled before throwing a baby simulator dressed in light pink in his direction. jay stumbled a little but managed to catch it. hailey cringed when she saw his hands wrap around the baby’s neck. the whole classes’ eyes flickered back to coach jacobs. “that doesn’t count,” he muttered before continuing to hand out the babies in a more civilized manner.

assuming that the simulators hadn’t been turned on yet due to the way it made no noise whatsoever after being chucked halfway across the room, jay gently placed it back on his desk. “it’s a girl,” hailey said softly, staring at her in admiration from her desk beside jay.

jay found himself staring at hailey, his heart fluttering. the way hailey was smiling at the baby, as if it was—and god forbid where his mind was dragging him, but as if it was theirs—was making his heart do all sort of weird things in his chest. jay and hailey had always been friends, but over their junior year and now in their senior year, he’s starting to feel things.

he cleared his throat awkwardly, shooting her a nervous grin when her blue eyes moved up to his face. “what are we naming her?” before hailey could chime in, he continued. “i promised adam i would consider his name as an option.”

“we are not naming our daughter adam,” she deadpanned with the utmost seriousness, but jay was too busy avoiding an aneurysm at hearing ‘our daughter’ to focus on anything else.

“adamella?” he choked out, because when in doubt, always make a joke.

hailey shook her head. “over my dead body.”

“i’ve always liked the name sophia,” jay shrugged, catching her eye to gauge her reaction.

she sent him a soft smile. “i really like that. let’s do it.”

the sweet moment was cut short when coach jacobs clicked a few buttons on his computer with a smirk. “alright suckers, get ready for the worst weekend of your lives!”

his statement was proven when half the babies in the room started screaming.

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

it was somehow decided that hailey would take baby sophia for the first night (because she’s more likely to not completely destroy the simulator than jay), then she would make her way over to jay’s house on saturday.

that was the plan. however, plans always change.

the first few hours went great. the baby cried but was easily soothed with a diaper change or a quick bottle. hailey was able to get the baby to sleep around 9:30 and ended up falling asleep herself after watching a movie on netflix.

she was woken up at two in the morning with soft cries, so she blearily picked up baby sophia and chimed her with her bracelet. she tried giving her a bottle which didn’t quiet her down and neither did a diaper change. she tried cuddling her and rocking her but to no avail; hailey pulled on her blonde hair, wondering if the cries she’s hearing are hers or the baby’s.

“baby, please go back to sleep,” hailey begged.

after another fifteen minutes of incessant crying, hailey decided to call in reinforcements. she shouldn’t be the only one suffering.

she quickly dialed jay’s number and prays he isn’t in a deep sleep where he won’t hear his phone. if that’s the case, she has half a mind to drive over and stick him with baby sophia so she can finally sleep for a bit. luckily, he picked up after a few rings.

“hello?” he mumbled sleepily.

“jay halstead!” hailey hissed over the phone, so sharply that he scrambled to sit upright in his bed and hold the phone tight to his ear. “you better get your ass over here before i murder you! i am dying over here!”

jay rubbed his eyes; he could hear the faint crying of sophia and sighed. “come on hails, it can’t be that bad.”

he could picture the absolutely furious and incredulous expression on her face. “are you kidding me, jay? how about i abandon you with this child, and then we’ll see what isn’t ‘that’ bad?”

“sorry,” he mumbled, nearly dozing off again.

hailey knew him too well. “jay!” she snapped and he flinched awake again. “i better see your face in ten minutes or you’re taking care of sophia the rest of the weekend by yourself!”

“shit okay,” he grumbled, grabbing a random sweatshirt and joggers. “i’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

“it’s been over half an hour of this, you have ten!”

jay groaned as he hung up the phone and ran a hand through his hair. by the tone of hailey’s voice, he knows better than to make her wait any longer. jay arrived at hailey’s house with one minute to spare and grabbed the key lodged under the welcome mat. as soon as he walked in the door, he could hear faint cries.

at this point, he’s not sure if the cries are baby sophia’s or hailey’s.

he had barely gotten through the threshold of her bedroom before his baby was shoved into his arms. “oh okay,” he mumbled, stumbling on his feet. hailey’s blonde hair was tied back into a messy ponytail and her eyes are rimmed red.

“thank god you’re here,” she muttered, rubbing her eyes. she was undoubtedly making them even more irritated. “she hasn’t stopped crying, i’ve honestly done everything, i don’t know what she—” hailey’s words abruptly stopped because for the first time in hours, all she can hear is silence. “what the hell?”

jay looked just as confused as she did because it literally only took a few seconds before the baby quieted down once settled in his arms. hailey looked exasperated.

“you’re never leaving,” she replied quickly, staring at him in awe. “you can’t leave me alone with her again. i think she hates me.”

jay leaned against her desk, shooting her a disgruntled look. “relax, i’m sure that’s not true.”

“whatever,” she huffed, sitting down on her bed. “you can probably put her back now. i think she’s cried enough for the night.” jay slowly placed her back in her car seat. “can you imagine having a baby at this age? god, i couldn’t do it.”

she could barely make it through an entire night with a fake baby, much less a real one.

jay took a seat beside her, a generous amount of space between them. “i can’t imagine having a baby, no. i think it’s physically impossible, but i might be wrong.”

hailey laughed, hitting his shoulder in response. her actions brought her a little closer to him. “shut up. i’m still mad at you for abandoning me.”

“sorry,” he smirked in response. “i promise i’ll spend the rest of this weekend attached at your hip. i think that’s only fair after the night you’ve already had.”

hailey sighed happily. “you always know what to say, don’t you, halstead?”

jay shrugged his shoulders and felt his cheeks heat up slightly. “i wouldn’t say that.”

hailey wasn’t sure what was bringing it on, but she felt the sudden need to let him know just how much she appreciated him. he was always ready to help out, regardless of the obstacles. he always seemed to know just what to say to make her feel better, and even if it didn’t, he would always be the one to tell her exactly what she needed to hear. jay had the biggest heart of anyone she’d ever known and it had been damaged far too many times.

“hey, i’m serious,” she said softly, ducking her head down to catch his green eyes. “i appreciate you.”

jay chuckled nervously and before he knew it, his fingers were tangling together because he didn’t know what to do with his hands. his nervousness only got worse when hailey grabbed onto his hand.

“i think you’re more tired than you thought,” jay responded softly. his gaze focused on their hands. there had always been a connection between them; it’s hard to be just friends when you’ve known each other for so long.

hailey smiled. “yeah, i think i am,” she leaned over and placed a quick kiss on his cheek. “we should probably get some sleep bef—”

sophia’s loud cries cut her off before she could finish and hailey groaned, burying her head into his shoulder.

“don’t worry hails, i’ve got you.”

🌼

p.s. i genuinely love the name sophia, and it has nothing to do with sophia bush/erin lindsay. hope you enjoyed!!

#upstead fic #upstead fanfic #upstead fanfiction #upstead au #jay x hailey #jay and hailey #hailey and jay #hailey x jay #hailey upton #jay halstead #tracy spiridakos #jesse lee soffer #chicago pd #chicago pd fanfiction #one chicago #one chicago fanfiction #upstead

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the-resurrection-3d · 3 years

Text

so what was ever good about acotar anyway?

For some reason, I’ve been very tempted to reread ACOTAR lately, and so I’m going to just make a quick list of what I remember specifically endearing the book to me back when I first read it in 2016 so we can compare notes later. This will, however, also include some retroactive criticisms now that we’re four years on from ACOWAR ruining everything forever.

Twigger warnings for discussions of abuse, csa and neglect, as well as me using my complimentary R Slur Pass.

For some context:

>Be 18yr me in 2016.

>Be in your first semester at college.

>Be so fed up with YA romance that you avoid books just for hinting at them in the summary.

>Be also brainstorming a series with your roommate called The Cuckmaster Saga.

This is probably going to sound embarrassing, but I’m being completely sincere when I say that part of why this book excited me was simply the novelty of finding a YA romance book that I liked.

I’d fallen out hard with YA in general by this point in my life, partially because of a string of fairy tale “retellings” that clearly gave zero fucks about the source material beyond using the iconography in its marketing. Folklore had been my special interest for a while, and my excitement for the series and all its little extra niche references coincided with finally getting to study folklore in a true academic setting.

Which leads me to point one:

I love the idea of combining BatB and the Tam Lin ballad. I know some people have complained about this, but honestly, I enjoyed finding a retelling that mimicked the mix-and-match structuring of a lot of folktales. ACOTAR isn’t even the messiest or least coherent mash-up by a huge margin. Unfortunately, this aspect of the series severely lessened as it went along — remember when we all thought ACOWAR was going to be a Snow White retelling and then there was just one scene with poisoned apples? Lmao.

[If anyone wants an author who does YA mash-ups that are actually YA, I’d recommend Rosamund Hodge, whose books are always interesting in their sheer weirdness even when the story itself slightly falters. I mean, I wrote a whole 20-page thesis on her Red Riding Hood/Maiden Without Hands retelling and still didn’t cover everything I had thoughts on. (Tragically, however, I must inform you all that she is a Catholic Reylo. Rest in pepperoni.)]

It is fucking hilarious in retrospect that SJM clearly knows a bunch of different folktales and folkloric creatures but thinks it’s believable for shadowsinger powers to have no theorized origin “even [in] the rich lore of the warrior-people” (ACOFAS 65). Bro fuck outta here.

But this leads into point two — Feyre and her family. It’s very obvious that SJM based Nesta and Elain’s dynamic with Feyre off the common folktale trope of having the youngest sibling be the only competent person in the room (and Katniss Everdeen). I thought it was honestly a lot of fun to see this trope done with some interiority; you can practically hear Feyre seethe about what useless hoes her sisters are between every line. I genuinely giggled through these parts on my initial readthrough.

I’ve seen some people complain that Nesta and Elain’s behaviors aren’t realistic in this situation, but au contraire! Nesta and Elain’s actions in book one are (...almost) perfectly realistic. Without revealing too much, my grandmother grew up in poverty with a few older sisters, and yet my great-grandmother would make her do all the work and constantly force her to give up her possessions (like her car) to the older sisters whenever they wanted them. Even to this day, when they’re all in their 70s and 80s, one of these sisters still relies on my grandma to do basic shit like balancing her checkbooks. I’ve also observed similar dynamics play out plenty of times between an adult child and an overindulgent parent, with people literally ruining their lives and bodies all for the sake of sitting at home all day buying furry porn off the internet.

Nesta and Elain are basically the psychology of this type of person split in two — Elain the soft, delicate, perpetually victimized front they put on for the world, and Nesta the ice-cold, bitter, and aggressive bitch they truly are.

Honestly, the only thing I would change about this set-up is either keep Ma Archeron alive or give Papa Archeron more personality than a plank of damp wood. What’s truly missing here is a parental figure enforcing this fucked up dynamic — I don’t remember it being clear that Feyre’s always had this role, just that she took it on after her mom’s death. Making it clear that Feyre’s always been forced to be this way — alongside giving the mom more characterization — would have gone a long way towards making this dynamic feel more realized and less like the narrative using trauma and pity as a shortcut towards reader engagement.

Then again, that would require SJM to have a female villain in this series who isn’t a rapist, and quotes I’ve seen floating around from ACOSF make it pretty clear SJM doesn’t know same-gender sexual abuse even exists.

Anyway.

Point Three (or rather 2B): Feyre realizing she doesn’t have to hang around her family just because she feels obligated to love them was a fucking banger. I loved it so much; having a story, especially a YA story, that showed you aren’t obligated to love a family that treats you like shit was so special to me. Especially since I was also leaving my family for the first time, and going home to visit them every other weekend felt like being hit point-blank with a Psyduck blast.

Thankfully, my relationship with my family has gotten a lot better, but I’m still really disappointed that Nesta and Elain were forced back into the story, rather than them reaching out to Feyre and making amends because they wanted to do better. The closest we got to this was the revelation that Nesta almost made it to the Border by herself after Feyre was taken, which was definitely badass, but also unfortunately the only Nesta scene I’ve liked in this entire fucking series. If SJM was going to force Feyre to regress into being Nesta and Elain’s tardwrangler again, then she should have followed up on Amren’s line in ACOWAR that Feyre treats Nesta and Elain the way Tamlin treated her.

“I asked them to help once—and look what happened. I won’t risk them again.”

Amren snorted. “You sound exactly like Tamlin.”

[. . .] and I said, “She’s right.” (169-170).

But I’m sure everyone who’s read ACOSF knows how well that’s going.

Point Four: the femindhjdfhfdh I can’t even write that with a straight face. I mean let’s be real, I too enjoy seeing female characters I like become queens and all that other stuff, but it was clear to me even on my initial reading of ACOMAF that it was all shallow and designed to help delineate good guys from bad guys without much in the way of nuance. It certainly took me out of the experience a little, but at least it ties into the books’ themes of recovering from abuse and shacking up with a Certified Women Respecter.

My actual point four: Truthfully I only bought this series for the meme of having the first shitty love interest getting cucked in the second book. ACOWAR gave me some complicated feelings on Tamlin, and I honestly think he should have just stopped appearing in the series after that — BUT, having him be dragged back in once per book just to call him a cuck and cockslap him around a little bit is fucking hilarious. Pointless! But hilarious.

I also think that this kind of arc is a great critique of the standard “happily ever after,” acknowledging that in real life, you’re much more likely to just pass from one abusive household to another because you don’t know what healthy love, communication, and boundaries are. (Arguably many folktales are the fantasies of women who are well aware of this reality but want to imagine a world that’s otherwise). I definitely have a lot of problems with SJM’s claims of “sex positivity,” but acknowledging that Feylin used sex as a means of avoiding communication was another great touch.

I wish that this whole King of Hybern shit was completely cut just to focus on these themes more; it’s very clear SJM only included it because fantasy series = BIG EPIC WORLD-ENDING STAKES!! I've read maybe ten pages of Throne of Glass, so I can't speak for how she handles epic fantasy there, but I know for me and a lot of other stans, the Hybern plot had licherally nothing to do with what we liked and connected to in these books.

But I must soften here, because I totally empathize with feeling like big stakes are “necessary” for a fantasy story and that no one would want to read your books without them. YA fantasy is the reason why TV Tropes coined the term “romantic plot tumor,” after all. (Source: I’m making shit up.)

What else… what else… uhhhhh. I think that might be it, at least for substantial things I don’t have to qualify too much. I of course have plenty of little things I used to like but have now been tainted because ACOWAR ruined everything forever and ACOFAS danced on the graves (such as how I liked Lucien but everyone in the books shits on him now to the point it’s stopped being funny). But this post is too long anyway.

#long post #anti sjm #abuse tw #csa tw #r slur #neglect tw #what's been eating feyre archeron?

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al-kaysani · 4 years

Text

nile + alone time for nile freeman week!

nile has complicated feelings about art museums. while she sometimes wishes for the ability to separate art museums from their original purpose and to just look at a leonardo da vinci painting without thinking about the crimes of the catholic church, it’s a fruitless exercise. ignoring a painting’s origin does a real disservice to the experience, even if this disservice would make it easier to stomach. however, these are all very complex feelings, so she has to go to art museums alone.

nile has complicated feelings about art museums.

it’s not that she doesn’t love art, because she does. truly. looking at a painting from long ago, envisioning its intended message, and joining that with her own thoughts and emotions evoked from the piece gives her a sense of belonging. like someone reached out a hand through time and space and somehow, impossibly, she gets to hold it as her eyes drift along the canvas. she’s spent months of her life going down wikipedia rabbit holes of artists in the fauvism, rococo and surrealist movements. and whenever she’s sad, nile just has to think about one of the many trips she’s taken with her mom to the art institute of chicago and she’s smiling before she realizes it, comforted by the memories of walking through the different exhibits, hand-in-hand.

studying the history of artwork is just as important to nile: how can you love something if you don’t know where it’s coming from? how it got to you? the art history classes that she audits in her free time go into detail on preservation and the social climate of different art movements, but no one can give a solid answer on how art survives thousands of years, and it drives her crazy. there have been billions of artworks over human history, lost, destroyed, traded away, or damaged, and yet there are museums filled with paintings or clay pieces that lasted far longer than they had any right to. as someone still getting used to the reality that she’ll outlive everyone on earth at least ten times over, the possibility of staying connected to humanity a thousand years later is a comfort.

but as an adult, she now knows to consider the purposeful erasure and delegitimizing of artwork, and how art museums play into that. how sometimes it's not a piece being “lost” to history but purposefully cut out of it. that throughout the ages certain stories were prioritized over others, depictions of blond jesus are everywhere, and european paintings from 1250-1800 have to be separated from european paintings from 1800-1945 in the met because there’s so fucking much of it while africa, oceania, and the americas share one wing.

and while nile sometimes wishes for the ability to separate art museums from their original purpose and to just look at a leonardo da vinci painting without thinking about the crimes of the catholic church, it’s a fruitless exercise. ignoring a painting’s origin does a real disservice to the experience, even if this disservice would make it easier to stomach. but these are all very complex feelings, so she has to go to art museums alone.

when the team is stuck in new york city for a week while copley secures them transportation to nairobi, she sets a day to visit the metropolitan museum of art. nile lets everyone know where she’s going, but also asks them not to come. she didn’t expect a chaperone, but lucky for her andy hates nyc too much to leave her room unless it’s straight to the airport, and nicky planned a culinary tour for him and joe, so she isn’t met with anything but have fun! and stay safe! the subway ride is painless enough, and she donates $50 at the front door.

she only spends four hours at the museum, sticking to the first floor. just walking through the bustle of people and taking in the different displays makes her feel like a kid in a candy store. the realization that she does have enough time to see all of this museum, and any other one that she wants to, makes her heart turn cartwheels. nile reads every single display and snaps lots of pictures, knowing fully well that looking at these pictures is nothing compared to the real thing. because when you’re within eyesight, you’re in the same position as everyone else who’s ever laid eyes on it, and the common thread you now share with thousands of people is staggering. but she is just as astounded at her solitude when a painting catches her eye. her every emotion is fleeting and unrepeatable, even to herself. she’s both alone and tied to everyone who’s ever looked at this painting; this paradox fills her with an addictive joy.

it’s not lost on her that much of this art wasn’t made for her, and lots were made with help from the suffering of her ancestors. but she knows in her heart that the metropolitan museum of art, and any other museum with more stuff than it can handle, has never set the standard of good art. they’ll never be able to, and she’ll never find validation in buildings like these. however, it’s a decent enough place to kill a couple of hours by yourself, especially if you (unfortunately) hold a love for european paintings.

her favorite part of her visit is in the egyptian exhibit, when she finds a broken bust of a male statue in gallery 109. the display notes that it was made between 1981 and 1990 B.C., and that’s it. nile looks into its eyes and tries to find some semblance of a purpose, but it’s forever lost. regardless of its original meaning, the head is now divorced from its home, whisked across the ocean and trapped behind barriers in new york city. the longer nile looks, the more she feels twinges of pity and sadness and community. that home is nonexistent to this head, and hers will be non-existent to her soon enough. but in the same way she’s found her new family, she’s found this head, and in this moment they are alone, together. [ the end. ]

author’s note: this was inspired by this tumblr post, one semester of an ‘aesthetics and philosophy of art’ class & a really nice day i once spent at the met by myself. if you actually read this whole thing then i love you very much, have a great day!

#nile freeman #the old guard #nileweek2020 #melposts #this is less a cohesive story and more a character analysis #i thought of 'black art historian' and got a little meta #i also haven't written in ages so forgive me if this is not good lmao #library #nile

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sonicrainicorn · 4 years

Text

Alone at Sea

Part of the Berry Done AU

Words: 3081 Desc.: Logan gets the worst dose of reality when his abusive ex-boyfriend tries to come back into his life. TW: Past relationship abuse, harassment, anxiety attack

A short interlude before we get to the messy clean up :)

///

Truth be told, Logan’s guard wasn’t down a hundred percent yet. Yes, Patton continued to be a kind and caring person, but that still didn’t prove anything. Not yet. They were going to be approaching their two year anniversary soon; as far as Logan was concerned, that would be the real test.

It seemed like a lot of things in his life started to turn around after two years.

Not always for the better.

“I’ll pick you up after work, okay?” Patton said as Logan prepared to leave the car. “Don’t even think about trying to do homework or studying or anything. Free day today.”

Also known as date night. Logan rolled his eyes. “Sure.”

“Logan Sanders, I am serious. You deserve a break.”

Logan paused. Patton always seemed to know when he was feeling overworked. He turned to him with a small smile. “I’ll see you in a few hours.” He left before Patton could try to berate him further.

Today wouldn’t necessarily be the easiest to get through, but he’d manage. All his challenging classes were lined up for today. He didn’t consider that when he scheduled them, too focused on finding the best way to work this new semester into his life, so now he paid the price. It wasn’t that big of a deal for the most part, but sometimes he ended the day being too mentally exhausted to do any hard thinking.

Still, he’d survive.

And, for today at least, he had Patton to look forward to. It was always nice to spend time with Patton. Everything felt different with him. The world a little brighter, the future not so daunting. It was like everything would be okay. At least for a little. And even if it didn’t stay it would be back again soon. Bad times didn’t last forever. Logan knew that, of course. In theory. In practice was a whole other thing. But Patton helped bridge that gap a little bit at a time.

By the time Logan finished his first class he started to think that maybe this day wouldn’t be so difficult after all. Only two more to go, and the next one started in ten minutes. He stopped by the student store for a quick snack before going on his way. He didn’t wake up with enough time to eat breakfast anymore. He tried, but more sleep always sounded more appealing than food. Getting later classes wasn’t an option; he tended to work nights and still needed enough time to do homework. Morning and early afternoon was the only opportunity he had for classes.

After their financial situation got better, Thomas tried to insist that Logan didn’t need to work. He should focus on school. And while Logan agreed with that sentiment, he knew that couldn’t happen. Thomas was trying to go to school again, but he needed to be a part-time student in order to comply with his work schedule. Unfortunately, that meant he wouldn’t receive financial aid. So Logan kept his job. It sucked. Kind of a lot -- but it was for Thomas.

That made it worth it.

Logan stared at his notes as the professor lectured. He had messy note-taking handwriting. His handwriting, in general, wasn’t the prettiest, but it seemed as soon as he started taking notes it got uglier. Perhaps part of that had to do with trying to keep up with the information being given. Well, whatever. As long as he could read it it was fine.

He snapped out of his daze when he heard people around him pack their things. Class finished already? He double-checked the time -- just to see for sure -- and found that class did indeed finish. Right on time as always. He should probably stop zoning out in this class.

He put away his stuff and left. Two down one to go. Regrettably, there was an hour and a half until the next one. Logan hated having such large gaps between classes, but this time slot was the only one that wasn’t during another class or too late in the day. On the bright side, the extra free time meant he could work on homework (or take a nap, depending on how he felt).

Finding a good spot to hang out could be a hassle sometimes, however. Logan preferred to be as alone as possible, yet that could be difficult to achieve on a bustling college campus. There was always at least someone, though it was possible to be completely alone in certain places. For at least a short while.

“Logan!”

Logan halted with a small frown. That voice sounded... familiar. But there was a chance he was imagining it just because they said his name. It might not have even been for him. Still, he turned around. His heart lodged in his throat.

“Hey,” Percival said with a smile as he caught up. “It’s been a while.”

He got taller. That fact made Logan’s stomach turn. Having to look up even further see a face he thought would be long gone felt like some form of punishment. Or perhaps a penance. “H-how did...?”

Despite not being close to a full sentence (or even a loud volume), Percy understood. “Well, it wasn’t like I was looking for you. I started coming here last semester, and I met someone that happened to know you.”

While Logan didn’t have the proper social skills to make friends, other people did. It seemed, whether he wanted to or not, they would get acquainted with each other. They didn’t force themselves in, but rather found ways to weasel through. Quil was an example of one such person. But he never thought he was significant enough for anyone to mention in conversation -- with his past abuser no less. Of course, he only told three people out of everyone he knew, so he couldn’t blame anyone but himself.

“It’s been a while since we last saw each other so I asked what you were up to -- and it turns out you’re going here, too! I was hoping to run into you before I asked them for your number or anything. Just my luck to see you today.”

Logan could only manage a tight-lipped hum of agreement. He needed to find out who he talked to and explain why this was an issue.

Percy’s smile fell a bit. “Look,” he started slowly. Almost cautiously. “I know I wasn’t... the best... to you in high school. But that’s why I needed to talk to you so badly. I’m different now. I want to show you that.”

No, no, no, no, no. “What, what are you implying exactly?” More than his heart tried to crawl out of his throat.

“Let me take you out tonight. On a date -- anywhere you want to go. We can start fresh.”

Logan’s fingers twitched reflexively. As if reaching for Patton’s hand -- almost always an index finger away. It wasn’t there. “Uh, I-I’m busy tonight. Sorry.” He turned to leave.

Percy cut him off. “Then we’ll try another night. Please just give me a chance.”

Logan froze. He didn’t know what to do. His mind was screaming at him to run away -- to grab someone’s attention -- to do something. But he couldn’t move. He could barely breathe.

“Please, Logan, I’ve changed,” Percy continued to beg. “Let me prove it to you.”

“I’m seeing someone else,” Logan muttered meekly. He tried to get around, but a hand shot out and grabbed his arm. His entire body went cold. “P-please let me go.”

“Just give me a chance. That’s all I want, Logan, just a chance.”

He glanced up and saw a girl staring at him with wide eyes. She quickly turned down to her phone. “I don’t -- I won’t give you one. I’ve, I’ve said no already. That should be enough for you.” He tried to tug his arm back.

Percy pulled him closer. “I’m not going to let you give me a ‘no’. I’ve been waiting for this moment for too long.”

“You’re not going to get anything other than a ‘no’.” A brittle rage pulled at Logan. He didn’t want this man anywhere near him. Nothing about him had changed at all. “There’s someone else now. I don’t want anything to do with you anymore.” He yanked his arm free. “Now leave me alone.” He hurried away before Percy could do anything else.

As soon as the anger left him, the fear came back again. So many questions swirled around in his brain: what if Percy continued to look for him? What if he really wouldn’t take no for an answer? What would happen then? He feared for his safety as well as the safety of everyone he knew. He didn’t know the lengths Percy would be willing to go to. He didn’t want to find out.

He couldn’t breathe.

The ground became hard to follow. He needed somewhere to sit down.

A tree. There was a tree. No one was sitting by it and the shade looked inviting. He went to it. He curled up into a tight ball and tried to focus on breathing. He never realized how hard it was. His whole body trembled with emotion and he found himself choking on sobs as well as air.

Patton.

He needed Patton. Patton would make everything better.

He brought the phone up to his ear. After a few rings there came a soft, “Hello?” But Logan couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He couldn’t. Patton didn't need to know this. It wasn’t his problem. He didn’t have to worry about it.

“Logan? Are you alright? Is something wrong?”

Logan hung up.

For a moment, he considered calling Thomas, but the same reasoning came up. Thomas didn’t need to worry. As soon as Logan mentioned Percy, he would already be on his way. He couldn’t do that to him. They were both convinced Percy would stay in the past.

So Logan kept it to himself. He shut his eyes and tried to ground himself. He could do it. He had to. He couldn’t let anyone else know what happened. They didn’t need to worry. They didn’t.

“Um. Hey,” a soft voice caused him to snap his eyes open. The girl he saw earlier stood nervously in front of him with concern all over her features. “A-are you okay?”

Logan tried to say he was fine -- don’t worry about it, go away -- but only broken syllables left his mouth. He knew she wouldn’t believe him even if he said so.

“I’m gonna sit here, alright?” She lowered herself to the ground. Not too close. Not too far. “I’m Dahlia, by the way, but, um, do you wanna go somewhere else? Are you fine being here?”

“M’fine,” he managed to get out. He curled his fingers around the grass.

“Okay. I’m gonna stay with you, alright? Just until you get better. You’re okay. I’m gonna help you through this, alright? It won’t last forever.”

Dahlia stayed true to her word. She was calm and gentle and way too kind for a stranger witnessing someone else’s anxiety attack. It was clear she had knowledge of this but was still inexperienced with it. Like she read what to do but had never put it into practice before. She even knew a couple of breathing tricks and went through with the one Logan found the most helpful. She continued to stay even after the initial chaos settled down.

And it made Logan feel a little bad. He was dragging a stranger into his problems when he could have handled it himself. She had better things to do than monitor a cry baby running away from his issues.

“So, uh, if you don’t mind me asking,” Dahlia messed with the blades of grass in front of her, “who was that guy?”

Logan couldn’t get his mouth to move. He could have told her. She had no connection to his life -- she’d probably never speak to him again. But he couldn’t do it. There wasn’t even a real reason for it. He just couldn’t say it.

“That’s alright, you don’t have to tell me.” She gave him a small smile. Much like Patton, she was far too understanding. She didn’t press him when he didn’t respond to her and changed the topic to see if he would talk about anything else. It was safe to say that she did most of the talking between them. “I called campus security. They said they would take care of it, but it’s totally up to you if you want to come forward or not.”

“I just don’t want to see him again,” Logan mumbled into his arms.

Dahlia looked as if someone kicked her puppy and ran away. “R-right. Well, I don’t know about anywhere else, but I know you’ll never see him here again. But if you decide to do anything about it, I’ll back you up.”

Logan didn’t know why a total stranger would “back him up” at all. There wasn’t any benefit for her. She didn’t even know his name. Maybe this was that human decency Patton talked about sometimes.

“Logan?”

Speak of the devil and he shall arrive.

Dahlia and Logan looked over to see Patton trekking over to them. His face was flushed as if he had been running around for some reason.

“Do you know him?” Dahlia asked in the same gentle tone that had yet to leave her, though it came out a bit protective. What was it about Logan that attracted protective people? Why did they feel a need to protect him? Could they sense how sad and pathetic he was?

Logan nodded.

“Are you safe around him?”

He nodded again.

“Do you want me to tell him what happened?”

After a slight hesitation, he nodded a final time.

Dahlia picked herself up and met Patton partway with determination on her features. Logan tried to act like the grass was the most important thing happening right now. He didn’t want to see how Patton would take the news.

Dahlia came back to him first. ��Um, I’m gonna head out now. But, uh, here.” She handed him a slip of paper. “If you ever need help again. Or if you just want someone to talk to. Texting is preferable, but don’t ever hesitate to call.” She smiled at him, eyed Patton one last time, then left with her bag slung over her shoulder.

Logan looked down at the paper. Dahlia's scratchy writing stared back at him with overly neat numbers below her full name.

Patton took a seat beside him. He moved as if he didn’t want to startle a frightened animal. “You doing okay?”

“Fine.” Logan still couldn’t look at him.

“Did you know him?”

A little too well. “Just someone I met in class once.” Lying didn’t ease up any of the dread or the awful pit in his stomach.

Patton fell silent for a moment. “Do you want a hug?”

Logan looked up at him. He was genuine. Somehow appearing open for the hug despite not moving at all. “It’s alright.” He looked back down at the paper.

“I’m only going to ask again because I want a yes or no answer. If you say yes then that’s fine if you say no, that’s okay too. I’m not inconvenienced by either. I just want you to know that you have a say in this. You shouldn't have to worry about bothering me or giving me an answer you think I want to hear.” Somehow, Logan felt as if this was for more than a hug. “Give me an honest answer. So I’ll ask again, do you want a hug?”

Logan couldn’t bring himself to speak. Past instincts told him that wanting something from someone else wouldn’t lead to good things. He learned not to want so no one would be inconvenienced by him. But Patton wasn’t Percy. Patton was nice. Patton kept promises. Patton never hurt him. So instead of using his voice, Logan leaned into Patton’s side.

In response, Patton adjusted himself so that his arms could wrap around Logan. He didn’t say anything snarky. He didn’t complain about having to move. He just held Logan without a word.

Logan didn’t want to admit that he enjoyed it -- he didn’t need this sort of attention; it was a waste of time -- but he couldn’t deny the comfort that came with it. He felt safe. It was a silly thought, but he did feel safe. Like as long as he was in Patton’s arms then nothing could hurt him.

“I was scared when you called me,” Patton whispered. “I thought -- I don’t know -- I thought you were hurt or something. And I didn’t even think about it, I just rushed right over here.”

“Sorry.”

“Shh. None of that. I’m just glad I found you.” He placed a gentle kiss on top of Logan’s head. “Are you ready to head home now?”

“I still have class.”

“What?” Patton pulled himself away. Logan stopped a pitiful sound from leaving his throat. “You were still planning to go?” He looked confused and hurt. Maybe not hurt. But worried. The type of worried that leaves an ache in your chest.

“I wasn’t planning on skipping.” The slip of paper was still curled in his hand.

“Logan, you can’t act like nothing happened to you --” For a second, Logan’s blood ran cold. Until he realized that Patton meant about today -- “it’s not healthy to brush off something like this. You should go home. If there’s ever a day to miss school, it’s this day.”

“I don’t know...”

“Please.” Intentionally or not, Patton gave Logan his best puppy eyes. “I need -- I want -- it would make me feel better if you didn’t go. We could watch a movie or read or something. Whatever you want. Just as long as you go home and relax. You need it.”

Logan didn’t have the strength to argue. “Alright, I guess.”

Patton smiled. Full of relief. “Good. Let’s get you home, then.” He helped Logan to his feet.

“I suppose that means no date today.”

Patton intertwined his fingers with Logan. “You’re not leaving your apartment if that’s what you’re suggesting. Doesn’t mean we can’t make a date out of it. We’ll make cookies or something.”

“I thought you wanted me to relax.”

“Hey, I’m not that bad. I know how to turn on the oven.”

“Maybe we’ll just stick with a movie.”

#next one is gonna be a real mess #patton has a lot to answer for #sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #logicality #past relationship abuse #relationship abuse tw #anxiety attack tw #berry done au

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strangesoulmates · 4 years

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Hi! I love your writing style, and the varied themes you take up for your stories! I was a bit ambivalent with starting with 'Good Intentions' because of the age gap, but, you've written it so beautifully, that I was instantly hooked. And, then, started my binge journey of reading all your other tomarry fics. Also! I read that you are doing PhD, and, that is, like my dream too! It may sound silly, but, I just felt so happy reading ur A/N. Could I ask how old you were when you started ur PhD?

I'm so glad that you like them! And yeah, I know the age difference in Good Intentions makes people hesitate (for good reason) which is why it's tagged the way it is just so people know what they're getting into, but I'm glad you gave it a chance and ended up enjoying it!

The story of my PhD is a fairly short one, unfortunately. Well, the story isn't short, but the PhD part is. The summer between my junior and senior years of college, I was diagnosed with Ulcerative Colitis, a chronic illness with all sorts of horrifying side effects I will let you look up on your own should you choose. My initial presentation was bad enough (and in hindsight, mishandled enough by my doctor) that instead of finishing up my summer research by giving a talk at a conference the way I had planned, I spent something like four days in the hospital. At that point, I made the choice to take the first semester of my senior year off, becuase I needed to get it under control before I went back to school, especially since stress is a known UC trigger. The doctor at home was amazing and incredible and I still see him to this day. If he moves, I don't know what I'm going to do with myself. But we got things under much better control, and I was able to go back to school for the spring semster.

Unfortunately, as you may know, almost all of the grad school admissions stuff happens in the fall, with acceptances going out sometime from january to march, if I'm remembering right. I couldn't take the GRE (general or subject) because I was sick, and in doing so made it so that grad school would be delayed at least a year.

I was lucky in that I had enough credits from AP exams and a summer abroad that I could still graduate on time, and I only had to drop one of my majors down to a minor to make it happen. So, I still managed to walk with all my friends and graduate Denison class of '15.

And this is getting crazy long, so the rest is under the cut

I spent a truly, truly miserable summer doing research at NIST, again due to health reasons (I somehow managed to get disintary? To the shock of everyone involved. Especially since it was the kind you have to catch from someone. And then the antibiotics I had to take for that gave me a flare). It was at this point that I first started to have some doubts about my future. I wasn't happy doing the research, not nearly enough to push through the pain and other symptoms and keep going. I didn't enjoy the research at all, and it had me worried about grad school. But I'd been planning on going for a PhD as soon as I understood what one was, and I still wanted to know about Physics, and I'd enjoyed research in the past. So I didn't waver.

I applied the following year while working a part-time job and was accepted to several programs. My GPA was fine, but I hadn't done very well in several of my major courses, so I was seriously worried, and I'd done poorly on my Physics GRE. Or well, not well at any rate. But my research record was fairly impressive for what I wanted to do, and I know that my letters were fantastic. I was lucky enough to be admitted to my first choice, and fell in love with the campus when I visited. Another smaller school almost swayed me, but in the end I went with my first choice, which was the University of Arizona, which was one of the top ten in the nation for AMO physics, which was my interest.

I was 23 when I started my PhD program, and while most of the students were straight out of college, I wasn't the oldest there by a long shot. Unfortunately I'd had my wisdom teeth out the summer before, and one of them had gotten infected, necessitating antibotics, and I flared. Again. And I hadn't taken care of continuity of care as well as I should have. So I was already shaky physically, and the stress of grad school and the lack of a GI basically sent me into the worst spiral I'd been in since I was first diagnosed. I made it through almost the entire first semester, but not enough to actually get credit for it before I was forced to take medical leave.

Stuff got worse before it got better, and I had to move back in with my Dad. I thought about it long and hard, and I decided not to go back to grad school. The reality of my illness is that I need to be doing something that I can push to get out of bed on the bad days. And as much as I loved physics, I didn't love research enough to push myself that way.

I still love physics and still want to learn more. If money wasn't an issue, I could see at least going for my masters at some point. And there are several subjects I could see myself going for a PhD in one day. But this just wasn't the right fit. And that's okay.

Sorry if this was depressing, and I'm very sorry for how long it got. But I hope it helps, and I'd be happy to answer any other questions you have!

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pastelraes-blog · 5 years

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Bitch Why Are You Like This: meeting Miss & Daddy (Jan 22)

A picture of me looking at me during the entire evening.

Starring: Daddy, Miss and a bitch (that's me!)

i've been thinking about my meeting with Miss and Daddy. Before that very moment, i have never felt young. Truly young - innocent, energetic, inexperienced, requiring guidance, in-over-my-head. Ever. Welcome to childhood, bitch.

Miss is fucking amazing. Although intense, she embodies the person i want to be. There's a quiet strength about her, a self-assurance, and she's beautiful. When the hostess pointed her out, i was quite sure i'd die before ever reaching the table. But here i am. Still living. While sitting at the table i marveled at how blessed i felt. Do i know what the fuck i'm doing? No. Do i know what i'm getting myself into? Hell no. But i trust in the experience Miss has, her thorough questioning, and deliberate actions.

For a moment, i wondered about sex trafficking. Atlanta is the sex trafficking hub of the nation, and to get women, sex traffickers often recruit other women. Because girls/women feel safer with and trust women more than men. With reason. But i requested to see and talk to her and Daddy was kind enough to let that happen.

And then in comes Daddy. i doubted He was real but He sure as fuck is, and boy do i feel little. It's not something i've ever experienced in my life. And i like it a lot (question mark?). i was pretty sure i was going to fuck some shit up and fuck some shit up i did. He told me to ask Him a question. i didn't feel i deserved to ask a question and quite frankly i was suffering from slight sensory overload and i didn't have a question to ask. Every question i had left my mind the moment He asked. Somehow, i found one - something about my age. i don't remember what i asked or His answer. i do remember getting comfortable and asking another question. He leans forward and says, "What part of one question do you not understand?" and i respond, "the one part." 🤦🏽‍♂️ Internally, i was yelling at myself to shut the fuck up.

And then He looked at me.

He looked *into* me

and i fell

When i was 4 or 5 or 6 (who the fuck knows honestly) my mother took me and my sister (who was 2 or 3 or 4) to a pool. i could somewhat swim but knew i should never cross 4 feet deep. Keeping this in mind, i jumped in the pool. And then i started drowning; the '4 feet' pool marker was missing and i thought i was jumping into 3 feet water. As i drowned, there was no panic. i felt no discomfort. i remember being surrounded by light blue waves. Looking up to see the sun shining through the water. i was at peace. There was no sound, there was no disturbance. And then i closed my eyes.

And when i opened them i was staring into Daddy's.

*still*

There's a common descriptor phrase - looking like a deer in headlights - and i have had the terribly unfortunate opportunity to witness this in reality in the passenger seat of my grandfather's jeep speeding toward a deer at 50 miles per hour.

and i am the deer

and the deer is me

drowning in water

over four feet deep

with eyes staring into Daddy's

Eventually i look away. And to mask my terror - that i could feel the depth of those experiences, i do the worst possible thing i could do in the moment: i look back at him defiantly & *i get smug*. And when i return my attention to Miss, i am smiling. Daddy asks Miss if i have signed the waiver yet and he says to get that done *as soon as possible*

A bitch is in trouble .

Should i be terrified for my life? Should i try to suck His ****? Who knows 🤷🏾‍♂️ (lxlzkzkzjkzjzb why am i like this! 😳🤣). Fuck Twilight AND ESPECIALLY fuck its fanfic 50 Shades, but Bella. Sweetie. If this is how you felt when Eddy-boy stared at you, i understand and im sorry for ever doubting you.

The night goes on. Daddy pours his coffee in a very particular manner. i am very thankful for Miss. They work well together. A perfect balance. She asks about me staring down Daddy and asks if i wanted to or felt like i should look away. Hell yeah i wanted to look away. i felt like i should look away. i wanted desperately to look away. i couldn't. And then it felt like maybe i shouldn't look away? Like what was this Man thinking i wondered. And when i caught myself looking i realized i kinda didn't want to stop? A bitch is a brat. Why do i poke the Lion? i don't knoooww 😭. Miss says she can't imagine me being submissive and that hurts a lot.

And of course in typical fashion of one who emotes (?) dramatically, i begin to cry. Because being smug is a defense mechanism. Bucking authority is another. i have had to puff myself up and build up walls and be hard for so long to *survive* and i don't want to be like that anymore. It's not me. i didn't have a childhood. i've always felt impossibly old. At 10, i raised my siblings for four years while momma went to college. because making 6k a year aint shit with 4 kids. At 14 when she finished, she wanted her role and her power back, but the children didn't recognize her as momma. And she hated it. It was a constant power struggle. To me she was irrational, led by the heart and prone to overreaction. Her favorite punishment aside from capital punishment was to take away everything i cared about at any moment *because she could*. So i became smug. *Because fuck you.*

Fast forward 4 years when i finally get to college and shit aint much better. i'm in an environment i wasn't ready for academically. The learning curve was exponential with a slope asymptote to infinity (undefined). That joint is a straight line lol. People are mad racist, dudes are mad sexist, the black people super rich and i'm slipping into depression. When i took a break from school last semester, i learned the traits i picked up - the way i operate in groups/the constant fight - don't work in other environments. It's dangerous to myself and it hurts others. And i don't want to be like that anymore. this is what i've had to do to survive all my life and it's ugly and it's not me.

i'm done with surviving. i want to thrive. i want to *live*. i want to submit desperately, i just don't know how. i'm tired of being defiant and smug and provoking because it's not me. i care so deeply for people, and i struggle because my face, my words, and my attitude are incongruent. When shit is bad, and i mean real bad, i smile and laugh. Not because something is funny or amusing - i smile because it isn't. i guess i started smiling cuz that's much simpler than bursting into tears. And these behaviors are habits i desperately want to break. my life has been fight after fight and resistance and war. i've made it so i would not submit to the negative forces in my life, but now i don't know how to accept the good. and that's why it hurts me so much when i smile at Miss or stare down Daddy when i would truly love not to be.

i was sure after that fiasco i'd never hear from them again. i failed so epically at something i know myself to be. regardless of the tears (because i definitely cried more last night), i am so thankful for that one opportunity to be in the presence of Miss and Daddy. The experience allowed me to gaze intently at those very ugly behaviors that i didnt truly recognize until last night. i left feeling like i failed a lot. But that failure was good because it was necessary. i'm now one step closer to knowing the person i am and transforming into the person i want to be.

Miss told me to look up what submission means and give ten examples of when i have ever done that in my life. For a moment i was quite terrified because i don't think i have ever submitted to someone or something without resistance first.

Submission - the action or fact of accepting or yielding to a superior force or to the will or authority of another person; an act of surrendering to a hold by one's opponent; humility; meekness

Okay the '10 examples' activity is super hard because i see now i've been the bitch reluctant to listen and follow. people must loved me to put up with this shit. Jesus take the wheel.

i still don't think i'm off the hook. i live on the hook. i am the worm 😂. i'm super disappointed in myself, but my love for myself has not changed. i'm really proud of myself for taking the chance and putting myself out there and meeting people who i fantasize about binding me, dragging keys down my back until i bleed, whipping my *****, leaving marks/bruises and other normal shit like calling me hideous degrading names and looking at me in ways that make my entire being quiver. If we're being 300,000% truthful, though i didn't intend to fuck up, the intensity of those moments, the acute embarrassment i felt, the topic of conversation in that public environment is something i truly enjoyed and if given the chance to experience it again i definitely would. ☺️

Eventually i'll ask Miss about her role because she's Daddy's sub but i have to pass her first to get to Daddy. Does that mean one day she's going to hand me off and i don't get to have her as Miss anymore 😢? i'm going to enjoy things as they are and take them as they come. Because i like Daddy & Miss a lot 🤷🏾‍♂️

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newidaho · 5 years

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22. UNI, Day 1

Don’t have the time/patience/desire to read with your eyes? Don’t have eyes? Well, have your friend read you this: You can check out the audiobook for free on Apple, Google, Stitcher, or Spotify. Subscribe for new episodes every Wednesday!

8 January 2055

It was about to be a weekend to remember, there was no doubt. Snow always loved these sorts of trips, as long as they had a certain level of comfort and adventure. He had attended a couple camps over his high school years, and even though they were all located in New Idaho, living away from home for a couple days always made it feel like he was farther away than he really was. He expected this visit to the University of New Idaho to be quite similar.

Earlier that day, after school had ended, Snow had gotten on a bus with 9 of his other classmates—Ricky 2 Miller, Jake “Pretzel” Mendez, Simon Simmons, Marshall Tomlinson, Carlton Buristo, Cyanica Latiff, Camille Thomas, Natalie Hefcorn, and Lucilia Trebello—and had been transported off to the University.

The first thing they did after coming to the University was stow their bags away in dorm rooms. There was a wing in the new dorms that was not to be inhabited full-time until the following academic year, so they got to populate their own little area of campus. Snow would be rooming with his neighbor, Ricky 2, as per request.

After briefly settling in the dorms, the group of them had headed out from the bottom of their building and across a small courtyard to one of the dining courts, where they had eaten a gigantic buffet-style dinner, the only other diners a handful of college kids that had come back to school early from their winter break (second semester for UNI started up this Monday). Despite the consistency with which each of the visitors had eaten throughout their lives, not one of them was unimpressed by the vast options available at the dining hall. Pretzel Mendez alone had gone back for more than six plates of dinner and two of dessert. Even Natalie Hefcorn had broken with the generally serious and detached demeanor that Snow had always known her for to gawk at the generous amount of food on display.

Now, after eating, the group of Sky High students lolled about in semi-delirious carb-comas in a small meeting room on the bottom floor of their dorm building as they waited for the president of the college to finally come give them the weekend’s orientation.

‘Goddamn, that was a lot of food,’ Ricky 2 said.

‘You’re telling me,’ said Mendez.

‘Shut up, Pretzel, we all know you’re proud of yourself and your fat ol’ gut.’ Ricky 2 slapped Pretzel on his belly. Pretzel faked as though he was about to puke on Ricky 2.

For only ten students, they really hadn’t bonded as much as Snow had hoped they would. Simon sat apart from the rest of the group, apparently working on some sort of paper. Natalie and Marshall had become interested in each other’s company early on when they got on the bus wearing matching camouflage. It turned out they both had interest in joining the ROTC when they got into college, and they already felt the fraternity of soldiers. Lucilia, Camille, and Cyanica banded together as the rest of the girls, and Carlton sat with Pretzel, Snow and Ricky 2, weighing in on their conversation in rare but welcome intervals.

It was five minutes past 1900h when an older woman with straight, light brown hair entered the room. The smile on her face looked rehearsed, though not fake. As she stood at the front of the room with her arms behind her back, the small bit of conversation there was died down.

‘Hello,’ she began. ‘You all must be the Sky High cohort. I can’t communicate how happy I am to see you all. I hope you’re excited to be here.’

Snow glanced at Ricky 2. It appeared he was already checked out, looking at something behind his Lenses. It was never possible to tell for 100% sure, but there was always a pretty obvious spaciness in people’s eyes when they were tuned into their Augmented Reality.

‘For those of you who may not know, I am Aubrey Daskus, the president and founder of the University of New Idaho, and I’m the one who invited you here today,’ the old woman at the front continued. ‘You may call me Aubrey—I will take it for granted that you respect me, and if you do not, well, as you can surmise, I have a very close relationship with the admissions office.’ Daskus smiled at Ricky 2, who didn’t even seem to notice.

‘Now, you have all been selected to come here because, why?’

Camille raised her hand. ‘Because our parents work for Lucid Labs.’

‘That’s right,’ said Daskus. ‘And why do you think I would want to invite the children of Lucid Labs to tour the University.’

Camille spoke up without raising her hand this time. ‘Because you know our parents can afford tuition.’

Aubrey smiled and continued without a beat. ‘What is your name?’

‘Camille.’

‘Well, Camille, you are very smart. That is certainly an important factor to consider when running a college. To pay for all this research, the money has to come from somewhere. But there’s more to it than that. Back when New Idaho was founded—does anybody know when that was?’

‘2026.’

‘That’s right. What was your name?’

‘Simon Simmons.’

‘Yes, that’s right, Simon. I promise, I’ll learn all your names by the end of this little talk.’ She winked. ‘But, yes, that’s right. New Idaho was founded in 2026, and the original two enterprises to be included on this land were Lucid Labs, and this University right here.

‘Because of that, you might not be surprised to learn that Lex Lucid and I were, and are, quite close friends. As I said, I know Lex quite well, and I know that he only chooses to employ the best talent he can find. Now, that doesn’t mean I’m expecting you all to be straight A students. It does mean, however, that you come from a pool of talent. Because of this, I wanted to show you all around the best learning center New Idaho has to offer.

‘Now, how many of you have been north of the Greta Barn Jungle before?’ Marshall’s and Simon’s hands went into the air. ‘Mmm, yes. 20%. About what I expected,’ Aubrey continued. ‘It is uncommon for many families to travel up here. It tends to be the “college town” portion of the city. I’m not surprised this is a first time for many of you. How exciting! And how many of you have been to the Greta Barn Jungle?’ A few more hands went up. ‘Excellent. It’s quite beautiful, is it not? And quite mysterious. You know, when I first moved here, there was a large patch of grassland here, but no Jungle. Then, before we knew it, by the early ‘30s, the Jungle was here! I guess that means it’s been here most of your lives, but believe me when I say that this Jungle is a veritable miracle. And many of you may not know this, but Greta Barn was in one the first graduating classes of Environmental Studies doctoral students who witnessed the growth of the forest. Some might even say she was part of the group who caused it.' Aubrey gave another wink. This constant winking was starting to make Snow uncomfortable.

Carlton spoke up: 'So they did cause it?'

Aubrey looked at him and shrugged. 'I was quite busy starting up the University at that point. I wasn't really poking my head around the environmental studies department.

'Regardless, Greta was part of one of the greatest research cohorts we had at the University. She pioneered much of the Jungle Study that we are still doing here. It's because of this that you will see her name all over campus. Unfortunately, she's moved on by now, I believe to somewhere in South America, but her legacy, certainly, lives on.'

Aubrey could tell the students were starting to get restless. Of course, she could go on about the college forever. But she had to rap this thing up. 'Anyway,' she continued, starting her conclusion, 'You'll find that Ms. Barn was not the only notable Alumnus to graduate from the University of New Idaho. Nathan Habernick, the inventor of Clubhouse, which I know you all use, graduated from here. Many notable Lucid Lab employees graduated from here. And more, whom I'm sure you will learn about on the tour tomorrow.

'For now, however, I imagine you have all had quite a long day. Why don't we go over the schedule for tomorrow, yes?' A couple odd nods from around the meeting room. 'Okay. Tomorrow, we will be meeting down here at 0900h for a tour of the University. Breakfast is between 0730h and 0830h. Lunch will be at noon. In the afternoon, we will have some activities with student clubs, then we will have a ceremonious dinner together before going to bed for the night. On Sunday, of course, you return home.

'Okay. Now, before we part, I would like to take a short bit of time to learn the rest of your names!' Aubrey went around the circle, quickly learning everyone’s names. After that, she introduced them to a nondescript girl named Sarah, a fellow University student training to be an RA. Sarah briefly introduced herself, notified them of the rules and lights-out policy, then led them up to their dorm rooms.

There were about two hours before lights-out, and Sarah had thoughtfully put board games and ice-breaker ideas in the common room that separated the boys’ and girls’ sections. Snow peeked his head into the common room a few times to see if anyone was taking advantage of the situation, but the only ones using the space were Natalie and Marshall, who had really hit it off talking about ROTC and their shared love of hunting and cage-fights.

Snow was a little disappointed that nobody was really hanging out together. He knew it was only a weekend, but he had been looking forward to developing some sort of bond with those who had come out on this trip with him. This was what he had always imagined college to be—a place where you could make those bonds like you did at summer camp. He wondered if this was, instead, what college would be like: Everyone keeping to themselves and doing their own thing, making it impossible to find other friends.

Of course, it wasn’t like Snow was being very proactive. He had only peeked his head out. He hadn’t stayed out there himself, or knocked on any doors to see if anyone wanted to hang out. As Snow realized this and recognized that this was one of only two nights he had this opportunity, he felt a wave of sadness wash over him. Was he blowing this chance? Was he not living this unique experience to his fullest?

Oh, well, he thought, he would just resign himself to the company of Ricky 2 for the night. Maybe the following day would be a day for friends.

Bedtime topics with Ricky 2, as usual, verged on the grotesque and shocking. Perhaps it would have been enjoyable for those who weren’t used to Ricky 2’s company, but Snow had tired himself out on his neighbor’s shock tactics years ago. Eventually, they brushed their teeth and headed off to bed.

‘Hey, Snow?’ Ricky 2 said after they turned off the light.

‘Yeah?’

‘What do you think would happen if we traded Lucidities tonight?’

‘Um…’

‘Do you think I would dream your dreams?’

‘I don’t think it works like that. It would probably just download your dreams onto my device.’

‘Do you want to try it?’

‘Maybe not tonight.’

‘Tomorrow?’

‘I’ll think about it.’

‘I think it could be fun!’

‘I’ll think about it.’

‘You’re right. You might not be able to handle seeing my dreams!’

And with that, the conversation ended, and Snow went to sleep on a college campus for the first time in his life.

#College Visit #Ben Vizy #New Idaho #New Novel #Writing #Writing Community #Novelist #Novel WRiting #2054 #Augmented Reality #Futurism

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