#especially when i used to go to college classes and sit within 2 feet of unmasked students in a conservative county

[quaranmine]

ugh i hate like. covid anxiety (?) so much. like i have a sore throat rn, which isn't very bad or even unusual for me. but i'm incredibly anxious i'm getting sick again, because that was my first symptom last time. and if i get sick again within the next few days, then i won't be able to do something I've looked forward to for MONTHS (and paid money for....)

so the end result is me being Very Stressed and Very Anxious and unable to even figure out how i actually feel because i'm too fixated on thinking im doomed and i'm not gonna be able to do [thing]

[doubleleoenergy]

i. Losers, The Princess and the Pogue Series

Only losers go to school, I taught myself how to move. I'm not the type to count on you, because stupids next to "I love you".

Series Masterlist

Pairing: JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, possible season 2 spoilers (if you squint), underage drinking, weed smoking, swearing, fistfights, mentions of blood

Summary: It’s the last day before their senior year and The Pogues are throwing a rager at the Boneyard to celebrate. That’s where JJ meets her.

Words: 1817

“JJ, come help me with the keg!” John B shouted, grabbing one end of the keg and waiting for JJ to grab the other side. JJ passed the package of red solo cups to Kiara, strolling up to grab the other side of the keg, gripping it tight and lifting it up over the driftwood that rested in their path.

It was time for one of the Pogues famous keggers at the Boneyard, and the gang was gearing up to celebrate. The first day of their senior year of high school was tomorrow, and they were buzzing with excitement. The fact that the fivesome had even made it that far, alive, was a miracle. Especially with how many days they had missed school over the past three years. But it didn’t matter, none of it mattered, they had made it.

“Yo Pope, get the fire going, the sun’s about to set!” JJ instructed, dropping some sticks in the designated fire pit spot. Their eager and early attendees would be showing up within the hour.

“Kie and I got it.” Pope responded, working with Kiara to get the sticks in the perfect arrangement. They worked on the fire while Sarah started filling solo cups up with beer for each of them, passing them out one-by-one until each had a cup in their hands.

Pope and Kiara had finally sparked the fire, the flames roaring to life, lighting up the Boneyard along with the large lanterns they had set up across the space for extra illumination.

“Alright guys, gather around.” John B commanded, each of the Pogues huddling together in a circle, raising their cups high in the air. Sarah wrapped an arm around John B’s chest, leaning into his side and looking up at him.

“We’ve been through hell and back, Pogues. And somehow the devil hasn’t devoured us yet. To the start of an unforgettable senior year, and to trying to go a few days without almost being murdered.” He moved his cup to the middle of the circle, the others banging their glasses together, droplets of beer spilling into the sand.

“Don’t get soft on us, John B.” JJ teased, chugging the rest of the beer in his cup before tossing it playfully at the man. John B laughed, chasing JJ down the beach to tackle him. The sound of voices in the distance fills the air, the wafting noise of a speaker playing a soulful beat hitting the gang’s ears.

“Yo, John B! JJ! Get your asses over here, it’s party time!” Kiara screamed, waving them over as the first group of people appeared past the tree line.

Hours later and the kegger was in full swing, groups of the working-class derelicts and Kooks talking amongst their kind. Pope and Kiara were chilling at the far end of the beach, Kiara picking up some solo cups that had been dropped in the sand, complaining about how no-one cared about the Earth anymore. John B and Sarah were over with a group of kids from their school, discussing the upcoming year and some of the kids talking about where they planned to go to college.

That left JJ alone, filling up his cup with a third helping of beer for the evening. He had smoked a blunt earlier with a few of his classmates, and he was floating on the perfect high. JJ loved to watch people when he got like this, watching the different groups interact, hyper focusing on the way the flames of the fire flickered, sending smoke into the starry night sky. Damn he loved this place.

He was pulled from his thoughts when he heard some commotion coming from the right side of the beach near the fire pit, a group of Kooks blocking his view of what was happening.

“Kelce, the girl said to back off.” Topper noted, tugging on the back of the man’s shirt.

“Topper, I’m not doing anything, man. I’m just getting to know the new girl.” He stated, stepping closer to y/n, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Isn’t that right, beautiful?”

Y/N slapped his hand away, squaring her shoulders and standing up straighter, looking up at the man.

“Don’t call me that.” She hissed.

JJ heard the group talking amongst themselves, gathering around the two, and he pushed his way through the crowd of people to take in the situation. That’s when he first laid eyes on her.

Her body was sucked into a black lace bodysuit, the string laced like shoes along her chest. Her light denim cutoffs hung from her hips, the bottoms coming just below her ass. She donned a pair of black Ked sneakers, her outfit casual yet classy. Was she a Kook?

“Why? It’s a compliment. You don’t like compliments?” Kelce questioned, taking a step closer, their faces inches apart. “C’mon, just one dance, Princess.” He placed a hand on her arm, stroking it as she pulled back.

“You’re repulsive.” She spat, turning on her heel to walk away.

“And you’re a miserable bitch.” Before Y/N could turn to respond, JJ had stalked forward, shoving Kelce backwards onto the beach.

“You dirty fucking Pogue!” Kelce fumed, standing back up and shoving JJ back, almost knocking down y/n in the process. The sentence spurred JJ on, throwing punches at Kelce before the other man socked him right in his left eye, having him stumble backwards for a moment.

“Not so tough now, huh JJ? Did your piece of shit dad teach you how to fight too?”

That was the last straw, JJ lurching forward and knocking Kelce to the sand, his fists flying wildly as he punched him once, twice, three times before getting off him. Kelce gasped for breath, spitting out blood onto the sand as Topper got down on the sand next to Kelce, holding his hand out for JJ to stop.

“Cut it out! Kelce, let’s go.” Topper urged, helping the man to his feet before the two disappeared into the crowd, a few Kooks following them.

JJ let out a chuckle, wiping at the fresh cut above his eyebrow that was dripping blood onto his cheek. His eye was killing him, groaning as he held a hand up to cover it, y/n appearing before him on his right side, his only side with vision now.

“Are you alright?” She questioned, knowing he probably wasn’t considering the state his face was in. JJ spit blood into the sand, tilting his head down to look at her. She was at least a foot shorter than him, which wasn’t hard, considering he was 6’0.

“I was actually gonna ask you that.” He retorted, his injured eye twitching beneath his hand.

“M’fine. Let me at least get you some ice for your eye.” Y/N gestured JJ to follow her towards a group of coolers someone had brought, digging inside to grab a few pieces of loose ice. She pulled down the olive-green bandana that she had tied into her hair, unraveling it until she had enough space to put the ice inside, wrapping it up tight before turning back to JJ.

“Sit down.” She instructed, gesturing to the large tree trunk along the ground. JJ didn’t protest, sitting down before y/n plopped down beside him, holding out the makeshift ice pack to him.

“I’ll live, I’ve had worse.” He pointed out, taking the bandana from her hand and placing it upon his swollen eye. Of course, he’d attend his first day of senior year with a black eye. Nothing new in his life.

“I’m just trying to be nice, y’know, for what you did back there.” She noted, staring down at her shoes.

JJ turned his head and shifted his body so he could face her, nursing his injured eye with the bandana. “Kelce is a piece of shit; you’ve caught onto that pretty quickly it seems.” He stuck out his hand to her, his knuckles starting to swell from the punches he’d laid to Kelce’s face. “I’m JJ by the way.”

She grabbed his hand in her own, shaking it up and down, her eyes locked on his. “Y/N.” They kept shaking hands for a moment before y/n finally pulled away, her cheeks heating up from the blush on her face.

“S’nice to meet ya, y/n. Never seen you around town before.” He shifted the ice to his right hand, his left needing to thaw from the cold that the ice produced.

“Just moved back last week, I’ll be starting my senior year at Kildare tomorrow. I lived here until I was three then my mom had us move.”

“Moved to where?” He questioned, relaxing his posture.

“Missoula, Montana.” She picked at a loose string on her shorts, listening to a group of guys behind her egging each other on to chug their drinks.

“Welcome back, I guess.” This clearly wasn’t the greatest welcoming committee for her, but that’s what life was like out here. Before JJ could say anything else, he was interrupted by the sound of John B’s voice calling out for him in the distance. John B walked towards the pair, his hand laced with Sarah’s, stopping a few feet from where they sat on the log. His eyes moved back and forth between the two, a confused expression on his face as he took in the site of JJ.

“Uh, I was just about to ask you if you wanted to get out of here, Sarah’s Uncle Matt will kill me if I don’t get her home by at least midnight, since it’s a school night.” The aftermath of the past few years had Sarah living with her Aunt Linda, her Uncle Matt, her cousin Elizabeth, and her sister Wheezie. JJ had been living with John B for the past year, and the trio had arrived together at the Boneyard in John’s van.

“Yeah man, I’ll be right there.” JJ stood up, offering y/n back her bandana ice pack, but y/n protested.

“You keep it.” She gave him a warm smile, resting her thumb against her lip bottom lip.

“I’ll wash it and give it back.” He announced, backing up in the direction that John B and Sarah had headed. “I’ll see you at school then?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Sure thing. Thanks again, JJ.” 

JJ didn’t respond, instead giving her a one-handed salute before doing a 180 spin towards John B and Sarah. He jogged up after them, flanking John’s right side as they walked towards his van.

“What’s with the shiner?” John B asked.

“And the cut that’s bleeding above your eyebrow.” Sarah added, squeezing John B’s hand in hers.

“Kelce was bothering that new girl. It was an excuse to beat the shit out of that Kook.” He mumbled, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

“Whatever you say man, let’s hurry up before Sarah’s Uncle sprays me with the hose for making her late again.”

Tagging those who may be interested. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list: @midnightf​, @bucksmotel​, @blackwiddows​, @sokovianheadtilt​, @astrydis​, @moniamaybank​, @matbarzalschain​

[burnedbyshoto]

mamihlapinatapei

— mamihlapinatapei: wordless yet meaningful look shared by two people who desire to initiate something, but are both reluctant to start. —

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pairing: todoroki natsuo x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, daddy kink, praise, choking, cockwarming, orgasm denial

word count: 8,903

a/n: a commission for @redbeanteax​, sorry it took so long. my back is in so much pain and good god did i feel like i was cheating on shouto when writing this. i hope you enjoy it!!!!

message me to join my taglist!

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Soulmates were an old concept.

It was this phenomenon that had first occurred so many years ago. It was a miracle that allowed the two perfect halves come together. 

In its initial introduction, divorce rates and plummeted to all-time lows! For an entire generation, divorce rates were at an all-time low of zero. No one in the world were getting divorces, choosing to stay with the person that was deemed worthy of them. It seemed for some time that people were going to fall in love with their soulmates and find happiness and prosperity for them.

That is until soulmates crossed borders, seas, racial tensions, economic differences, and sexual preferences…

The rich stopped trying to bring someone in for a rag to riches effect, choosing to instead marry within their own class circle, choosing wealth over love. International soulmates couldn’t figure out a common language, they’d sit in front of each other with lousy translator apps, unable to talk freely and openly, and soon their relationship was destroyed. Racial tensions were especially hard. There were reports of soulmates waking back up into their bodies to find their home destroyed and family hurt because their soulmate could not stand the thought -- the idea -- of the race of their soulmate. There were still homophobic people in this world of soulmates who could not accept their sexuality when presented to their soulmate who was the same gender and would not leave any means of contact behind.

Soulmates, while excellent and loving when it is something within your reach, turned out to be a pretty fucked up thing.

But nevertheless, it didn’t stop you from ever hoping that whoever your soulmate was, it would be someone who would love you precisely who you are, no matter who they were.

Your tired eyes focused on your paper, your eyes scanning the different lines that glowed on your computer screen, trying to find a better way to propose your thoughts. There wasn’t much to this paper, it was a reasonably simple paper about the pros and cons of soulmates for your anthro and philosophy class. Since you were little, you revered in the concept of soulmates, your excitement to be in love with someone for the rest of your life was a pretty solid thing, even at a young age.

As you grew older, you held onto this idea, choosing to ignore the issues with soulmates in favor of optimism and positivity. There were still many, many happy and in love, soulmates! After all, there was still an 87% rate for soulmates marrying each other, the opposing 13% came from the worst of people, the most disadvantaged of people, and the most influential people. It’s how it was.

For a college student in Japan, you figured that you had a solid chance of having a soulmate that you could love and have their love in return. But your issue was the mystery behind it, the unknowing of it all. While you knew that soulmates did mean pure love, there was a part of you that hoped that there this someone out there was someone you already knew.

Well, there was one person in particular.

“I’ll proofread your paper if you look at mine,” a tired voice croaked from hours of not being used.

Your eyes felt dry, and you glanced up at the white-haired boy who was the holder of your affections for about two years now. 

Todoroki Natsuo.

“Only if you don’t make fun of mine, I’m so bad at this philosophical bullshit,” you groan, rubbing your face. You heard Natsuo snort, his arms stretched above his head, and your eyes dropped back down onto your screen, not wanting to be staring at him. 

“Oh please, I’m sure I’ll feel leagues smarter by the time I finish reading it,” he grinned, and you felt yourself looking back at the white-haired man who was pushing his laptop towards you.

“You’re annoying,” you sigh, but there’s an undeniable smile on your face when you hand over your own device.

“Sure, sure.”

What was there to say about him?

You had met him two years ago during freshmen orientation, he was in your introduction group, and coincidentally in the same classes as you. The two of you ended up getting fairly close over the first semester of college, and by the end of your spring semester, you realized in horror that you had a crush on him.

These feelings weren’t bad, he was a respectful and caring boyfriend, that was something you knew without a doubt. Of course, knowing that he is that, and not hypothetically assuming it meant that he had a girlfriend. Yes, Todoroki Natsuo was a taken man.

You’d never really met his girlfriend. You knew who she was, how she looked like, her favorite things in the world, and her least favorite things, that’s how much Natuso talked about her. You had the pleasure of meeting her once, and the only thing you could remember is that she had mouse ears and the personality of a mouse. Scared, timid, and squeaky.

She barely talked to you, and after the initial meeting would never join Natsuo and you anywhere.

You didn’t take it personally, you wouldn’t really want to hang out with her either, especially with how you felt about Natsuo. It was a conflict of pretending that you and Natsuo were falling in love, ignoring the impeding time you had to be with him, and of course, the guilt that coursed through your body whenever you rested your head against his shoulder during these late-night studies. 

In two weeks, it was July 2.

Somehow on this day, you would swap bodies with your soulmate when you fell asleep, and when you woke up, you had five minutes to figure out how to get them to reconnect with you. Most people left their phones unlocked that day, letting their soulmates leave their phone numbers in their phone, sometimes they’d leave their address, and Instagram and Twitter handle. After so many generations of soulmates experiencing this, and the ever-evolving technology, this was the way that people effectively found their soulmates once the five minutes were up.

But unlike what people had once assumed, there was no exact age as to when you would swap bodies. Some people were lucky to swap bodies at the age of sixteen, and the oldest recorded case was when someone was twenty-four. You were nineteen, as was Natsuo, neither one of you had this soulmate experience yet, but unlike before, you had a strong feeling that this was your year.

“It looks great,” Natsuo whistled lowly, his head shaking while giving back your laptop. 

You felt your face grow warm at the praise, your fingers highlighting another sentence for him to correct, “Thanks.”

“What you thinking about mine?”

You sighed, pushing away from the table so that you were looking into his grey eyes that looked at you with curiosity and high respect. 

“I’m a bit confused about your position,” you admitted, your fingers brushing back your hair so that you could look at the man whose lips pursed in thought. “You’re saying that soulmates are bullshit, but you believe it regardless?”

Natsuo nods his head, an embarrassed blush stretching across his face, “Well yeah, they kinda are. How is some cosmic thing the thing in charge of telling me about who I am to truly love?”

“So when you find out who your soulmate is, you won’t love them, but you’ll stay with them?”

“Yes? I don’t know… I know that my parents aren’t soulmates, and that didn’t work out. It’s hard for me to explain, but I really like Mausua, and I want to see how far things can go with her,” Natuso explains his thoughts to you, that stupid grin spreading on his face that always appeared whenever he talked about her. “I mean for years people didn’t marry their exact soulmates, but they were happy and in love for ages. Why can’t I try that out?”

You tried to hide the fact that those words hurt you. It shouldn’t have mattered, after all, there was no saying that the two of you were soulmates, and the probability of that happening was entirely slim to none. 

“Yeah, why not?”

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June 30 - one-week left

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You were slumped on top of the table, your head banging against the cool wood while Natsuo recited his notes to you. The both of you were in the middle of some argument that had tailed off in fifty different directions, neither one of you admitting defeat.

“Natsuo, I don’t give a flying fuck if that’s what the notes say!” you yell, throwing your eraser at his head, an act that he easily evaded while continuing to read off his notes. “You don’t give the baby the torch flame!”

“You’re not even listening to what I’m saying,” Natsuo insists with a laugh, his notebook coming to hit your back slightly. “If you give the baby the flame, they’ll be unbeatable!”

If you could roll your eyes any harder than they did now, you were sure you would manage to see your brain, but instead, you shifted on the table so that you were facing Natsuo, and you stuck out your tongue.

“Put your tongue back in your mouth before I pinch it.”

“Sowwy, I donth understhand,” you retorted your nose, turning up towards the ceiling.

Natsuo’s hands grabbed your wrists, and you shrieked, immediately trying to fight him off while he dragged you towards him. Screams and laughter filled the air until Natsuo accidentally pulled you off the table. So there you two sat, on the floor of the study room, in hysterics.

Your hands clutched your sides, breathing failing you while your ass stung slightly from the pain of falling. Natsuo’s face was red, his feet slamming against the floor periodically enough that you almost assumed that he was going to pee himself. 

“Just go to your stupid date already,” you groaned once your laughter subsided, your eyes resting on Natsuo, who was now laying on the floor exhausted. “You’re going to be late!”

Every Saturday after you and Natsuo were done studying, he would have a date night with Mausua. It was something he never missed, something he always made sure they did, even when his nose was dripping with snot, and he had the worst migraine. It’s just how he was.

Natsuo paused, his eyes looking at you with a shine of pain, and you sat up despite the soreness of your stomach. There was something wrong.

“She broke up with me,” Natuso admitted with a stiff smile, his shoulders shrugging. “Last night, she had this feeling that this was her year to find her soulmate, and well, I don’t know…”

His hand dragged across his face, and your eyebrows scrunched together. Scooting closer to him, you sat shoulder to shoulder with him before you nudged him with the back of your hand, “You feeling okay?”

“Yeah, actually I am,” Natsuo responded despite the wry smile on his face, “I mean, it sucks, but what can I do about it?”

“Cry, scream, we can go buy cats and put them by her front door,” you began listing off a bunch of different things, most ideas being straight near criminal, but it made Natsuo laugh.

“Remind me to never mess with you,” Natsuo shoves you with his shoulder. The force of that alone nearly sends you flying, but you merely grunt in response. “But, I’m fine.”

“You sure?” you ask, obviously unconvinced.

“Yeah,” he nods, “I will take a hug if you don’t believe me.”

Rolling your eyes, you stood up, stretching out a hand you helped Natsuo to his feet, and without a second thought, you wrapped him into a hug. Your body feels just a bit warm when he held you close. 

“I’ll show up at her door with a cat and a baby with a blowtorch, just say the word.”

“Stop, you menace.”

“Shut up, you know you love me.”

“Have I ever denied that before?”

“Yes.”

“True.”

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July 1 - one day left

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“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!” You screamed, shoving a birthday present into Natsuo’s face the moment he opened the door. 

Natsuo graciously accepted the present, his face brightening with a smile while he thanked you for the gift. “I thought I said I didn’t need anything.”

You shrugged, walking into the house and taking off your shoes, “That’s what you thought, but I am far wiser and know exactly what you need!”

Natsuo snorts, closing the door behind you, and the two of you make light chatter while walking into the house. It had been a while since you came to his house. The last time you had been around, he was still living under the same roof with his dad, but this one was without him. The house had a different energy to it, one that was nothing similar to that of the old house. It was comforting and warm, despite the coldness the family preferred.

Today was Natsuo’s birthday, and he had invited you over for his birthday dinner with his family, something that he didn’t do last year with you. Thankfully you had met most of his family, his sister Fuyumi was an obvious one, and you also had the chance of meeting Rei the other month while running into the mother and son at a tea shop one day. You also had sort of met his baby brother Shouto, who you only really knew because of the U.A. Sports Festival.

Dinner was lovely, the four Todoroki’s, and you enjoyed a bunch of sashimi while talking. The family dynamic was also bizarre for you to experience. Fuyumi was obviously used to being the conversationalist. She was very talkative and inquisitive during the entire night. Shouto was trying his hardest to -- in the most helpful way possible -- act normal. He was stiff but a good conversationalist if you overlooked the often weird phrases he had to say. Rei seemed to be the mediator, trying her best to enjoy the situation but also getting involved within these sibling discussions. And of course, there was Natsuo, who for the first time since you’ve met him was being quite the Drama Queen. 

It was endearing to watch Natsuo quarrel with his sister and brother over matters that seemed so trivial and pointless. They were all very strongwilled, it seemed.

“How about you, y/n-chan,” Rei smiled at you, interrupting the ridiculous argument between Shouto and Natsuo about how Natsuo wasn’t going to wake up in someone else’s body the next morning. “Are you expecting to wake up in your soulmate’s body?”

You smiled stiffly, the searing gaze of the two Todoroki brothers burning into your body while you stared at Rei, was this family always this intense?

“Well, I haven’t yet,” you laugh, brushing your hair to the side, “I would definitely like to, but there’s no saying.”

Shouto seemed to sigh, his finger pointing at you, then motioning over to Natsuo, “But is Natsuo going to wake up knowing his soulmate?”

“Shouto!”

Dinner ended with a scoop of ice cream, and you listened in horror and fascination. At the same time, Shouto explained to his family about the insane adventures he’d had at U.A. After helping with cleaning up and thanking the family for dinner, you ended up following Natsuo into his room.

It took no time for you to fall onto his futon, your arms spread out on his bed while Natsuo grabbed your present for him.

“I wonder what this is,” he sang, plopping down next to you.

You immediately sat back up, a grin on your face due to the excitement that flooded your veins, knowing that this was a pretty damn good present. 

“Obviously, it’s a photo album of me,” you teased, and he seemed to agree that it was that while he unwrapped it.

From the bag, he pulled out a hoodie that he had been raving about for months now. He had never bought it because he sucked at saving up money for this exclusive hoodie. It was a navy blue sweatshirt that had English print all over it, you couldn’t read what it said as you didn’t learn English while in high school, but it was supposed to be pretty cool.

“Y/n,” Natsuo breathed slowly, his eyes wide and round, his fingers barely touching the fabric. It was as if he felt the material too much it was stain with his fingertips or complete disintegrates within his touch. “How did you? It was sold out, I checked!”

“You told me about how much you wanted this months ago. It was too late for Christmas, so I bought it in advance for your birthday,” you explained with a grin. Warmth flooded your chest while you watched his starstruck expression, and you only felt your heart beat faster when he turned his attention onto you. So you smiled, even more, your eyes closing in your mirth, “Happy birthday, Natsuo!”

You expected him to hug you, to bring you in close and tell you how grateful he was for this gift -- if that much. But when his fingers touched your cheeks, your eyes flew open to see his gaze focused on your lips.

“Can I kiss you?”

There was nothing you could say, your words failing you entirely because this is what you had wanted for years. Tonight was going to be life-changing for you -- whether it was a pleasant change or an adverse change, you had no idea. You’d wanted this for too long to deny him a just a kiss, right?

Your heart is hammering so loudly you swear he can hear it, and with a shaky placement of your hands on his wrist, you seal the space left between the two of you.

While you had never officially dated anyone before, you’ve definitely kissed other people before Natsuo. Most of the other kisses you had were -- quite frankly -- unideal. Stiff and cold lips, rigid bodies, too much saliva pouring from their mouths, disgust soaking your spine, and awkward hand roaming. But this? This was more than anything you could have ever hoped for.

His lips were gentle against yours. A soft rose petal that warmed you from the inside out, a flexible coax that reminded you that despite your ideals, this is what you wanted most. Your head tilted to the side, allowing your meeting lips to connect further, your bodies coming together in yet a bigger and more powerful wave. 

But as the sensations that riled your blood and nerves, the actions the two of you grew bolder, riskier, much more passionate.

His fingers released your chin, moving to grip onto your waist, pulling you in. You gasped against his lips, the demanding actions catching you off guard. Your hands pressed onto his chest, your legs shifting so that you were now straddling the larger boy, and you swore you could see stars the second his tongue skimmed your bottom lip.

Closer.

Better.

Wistful.

Your back arched, your chest meeting his when his tongue traced the roof of your mouth, and your hips involuntarily ground against his nearly trembling thighs. He hissed, barely loud enough for you to hear, but his cold fingers slid under your shirt, and you shuddered.

There was no time to react, you felt your body being flipped, and Natsuo was on top of you, his hips grinding into you emphatically, continuously, and unrelentingly. Your hips met his with every movement, your legs wrapped tightly against his waist, trying your best to get him to lose his train of thought with every roll of your hips. The growing bulge in his pants was only a clear indictment to what you were doing to him. Of what was to come of this night. Your head fell back, your jaw-dropping, while you made choking noises, refusing to let such a loud audible noise escape your mouth. But it seemed that Natsuo wanted to hear you moan, to feel you squirm against his hold.

This was making your body explode with sensations you didn’t think was possible from someone who wasn’t your soulmate. 

Natsuo’s lips pressed down your neck to your chest, your mind swam with the word soulmate, and your tongue was drenched with his name.

Soulmate.

Tonight was the night you were going to find out.

“I’ve been in love with you for so long,” Natsuo groaned, his tongue leaving wet stripes against your chest, and with the feeling of his fingers tweaking at your nipples through your shirt, you panicked.

“Get off me!” you squeaked, your hands shoving at his shoulders, your legs unwrapping around him.

“What’s wrong?!” Natsuo panics, his hands checking up and down his wrinkled clothes, his body on edge and filled with worry. “Did I do something wrong?!”

“I can’t do this!” you pant, your body feeling itchy at your conflicting emotions. You could do this, you knew that. It would take nothing for you to spend the night with one Todoroki Natsuo, but not on this night, not when you were so sure that you would figure out who your soulmate is. Not if they would wake up in your body with a naked man beside them. No, you couldn’t do that. “Tonight is the special night… and I can’t… we can’t! Not when there’s a possibility that someone is waiting for me!”

Natsuo’s eyebrows furrow, his face setting into an icy frown. There was a clear understanding on his face, emotions that let you know that while he was very disappointed, he understood.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, your gaze no longer able to reach his.

“It’s okay,” he smiles weakly, but his voice is distant and terse. “I’ll see you out…”

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Your eyes focused on the ceiling of your bedroom.

Even though it was three hours since you’ve left the Todoroki residence, your heart was still unfairly beating at the thought of Natsuo kissing you, and the implications of what the both of you wanted to do but hadn’t mustered the courage to do. 

You thought about the fact that he had just broken up with his girlfriend seven days ago, maybe he was projecting his no longer met hormones on you? There was no way your best friend was in love with you and chose not to say anything about it until now. But then again, because he was in a relationship, that confession would have been a dick move. But if he did love you, and not her, why would he have stayed with her?

You’re not really sure when you managed to pass out, considering that you had been tossing and turning for literal hours. But soon, you drifted off to sleep, with nothing but a prayer that when you woke up that you would be in someone else’s body. 

Your eyes opened when a crack of sunlight hit your face, and you slammed a hand against your face. But your hand came down heavier against your face, and you groaned in pain. But it wasn’t your voice…

Shooting up from your bed, your eyes searched the room around you. It wasn’t yours, you knew that much. But there was something familiar about the color of the walls and the furniture of the room. Rushing to your feet, you saw a mirror and looked into it. 

You were met with grey eyes, gentle, kind, and familiar grey eyes. Your fingers traced the pale skin and felt the white hair on your head.

What were the chances?

Todoroki Natsuo was your soulmate.

A smile spread across your face, an unbelievably gracious joy filling you up. But then Natsuo’s phone began to ring, and you picked it up to see your contact picture showing. It was a rather good picture of you and him, a memory from club rush during your first semester of college. On the top were your first name and a pure heart emoji.

Grinning much broader, you picked up the call, placing the phone to your ear, you spoke.

“Hello?”

“What were the chances?” you heard your voice respond back to you, and it took everything not to giggle lunatically within Natsuo’s body.

“I’d say less than zero.”

“Yet here we are,” he teased you, and you went to push back nonexistent hair behind your ear. Dropping your hand to the dresser, you shake your head.

“Are you disappointed?” you couldn’t help but ask, your worries about you being a distraction for him still hot on your mind.

“Definitely not,” he spoke softly, “I know what you’re thinking, y/n. That you were nothing but a distraction from Mausua, or how when I blurted my feelings, they were too in the moment. I should have broken up with her ages ago, but I don’t know. You just didn’t seem attainable to me.”

“You’re an idiot for thinking that, Todoroki,” you sniff, tears welling in your eyes.

“Hey, now,” he reprimanded you, but the teasing was still heavy in his tone, “it’s Todoroki-san to you.”

A smile grew on your face, and you scoffed playfully, “Todoroki-san? I’d much rather call you daddy.”

Now you knew what noises you made, you were nineteen, nearly twenty with a few sexual experiences yourself. Now the sound that escaped Natsuo’s voice was one of approval, and heat spread through your body.

“We have less than a minute,” Natsuo spoke as lowly as your voice could go, and it sent goosebumps down your spine, “I’ll meet you at your place. Are your roommates here?”

“No.”

“Good.”

Your eyes closed, and you listened to Natsuo’s directions. His voice flowing from your voice and slowly ended with his own. Your eyes fluttered open to see yourself standing in your bathroom with your cellphone to your ear. Heat flooded your body, and you realized just how cold his body was. 

“I’ll see you in twenty minutes,” he spoke sharply, and a smirk curled onto your face.

“Okay, daddy,” you accentuated.

You couldn’t see him, but you could feel his nostrils flare from the opposite end of the call, a dark look on his face. The line went dead, and an internal panic flared through your veins.

Twenty minutes to prepare, could you even manage that?!

You took the fastest five-minute shower in your life, nearly slipping against the slick bathtub while shaving your legs. Hopping out of the shower, you were quick to brush your teeth, putting product in your hair, and once you were done, you scrambled back to your room. Your hands throwing on the first set of lingerie you found, it was a navy blue teddy that had a deep plunge between your breasts. You hastily slid your sheer navy blue thigh highs up your legs, and just managed to slip your large t-shirt back over your head when there was a knock on your front door.

Looking into your mirror, you felt your chest tighten, your stomach filling with butterflies that left you feeling dizzy. It felt like an eternity when you walked to the front door, rising to the tip of your toes to see Natsuo standing outside of your door. His signature white with grey jacket over a dark grey tank that seemed just the perfect fit, you noticed black joggers on him too, and your teeth buried against your bottom lip, your heart beating erratically.

“Who is it?” you asked teasingly, watching the way Natsuo’s eyes snapped up, and you grinned at the way a coy smile stretched across his face.

“Open up and find out?”

“Mm,” you sigh, pressing a finger to your chin, “I don’t particularly want to find out.”

But nevertheless, your fingers found themselves on your doorknob, opening the wood door to see Natsuo standing there. His eyes were drinking in your face, and there was such a loving smile that emerged on his face.

“Hi, soulmate,” he whispered.

It was no different from the typical way he greeted you, but the simple addition of soulmate sent fire to your cheeks and stomach. 

“Hi,” you whisper, stepping aside, letting him in. 

He walked in, and you shut the door behind him, waiting for him to take off his shoes and remove his jacket, you stayed put. Your hands were behind your back, just waiting for him to look at you again. Your thoughts trailed to what was going to happen, would you two have sex? Would he grip your waist so tightly you would be left with purple bruises? Would he enjoy having you as a partner for the rest of his life? You licked your lips as your thoughts wandered.

When he was finally ready, Natsuo took a step towards you, knocking you from your internal turmoil and having you stare straight into his grey eyes. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asked you again, and like before, you didn’t answer him.

Reaching up, you brought him down for a kiss, but unlike before, the intentions were already known. The barriers and the restrictions between the two of you were gone, and you melted.

His hands gripped the back of your thighs while he took a confident stride forward, and you followed after him. Your lips were glued to his. Every divet, every line in his lips was smoothed out and memorized against yours. It made your head spin, this was your soulmate, he was yours. 

Natsuo’s mouth dragged away from yours, moving downwards on your neck. His teeth bit and pulled at your sensitive skin until you were moaning his name. His hands were running up and down your curves, measuring them against him. A small gasp escaped your lips when your thigh rubbed against his clothed erection, and you shivered when his fingers traced the part of your skin where the thigh highs ended. Growling against your skin, Natsuo’s fingers pulled at the elastic and let it go. The fabric came back against your skin, and you whimpered loudly.

“Natsuo, don’t tease,” you muttered, your fingers pressing against the incredibly defined muscles that were hidden underneath his jacket. You wanted it off. But Natsuo didn’t seem to notice your needs, choosing to continue to press searing kisses against your neck.

“Address me by daddy,” he growled, his lips parting with your skin so that you could stare into his eyes. His gaze was ferocious, drowning, and near angry, but for some reason, it sent heat right to your core before he slammed his lips back against yours into a bruising kiss.

You could barely keep up with his moving lips, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when his hot tongue dragged against your lips.

Your hips weakly ground against his, and Natsuo met your needy hips until you were crying against his mouth, and his tongue invaded your mouth. Your fingers flew to his white hair, fisting the soft tendrils until he snarled. One moment you were on your feet and the next Natsuo’s hands cupped your ass and lifted you up.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, and you felt him walking towards your room. 

Your tongue danced against his, your mind doing everything it could to not fall under his spell. To keep fighting, to make sure that this wasn’t going to be easy, no matter what he wanted to be called. Curling your tongue in his mouth, you could feel the shiver go down Natsuo’s spine, and you pulled your tongue back in your mouth.

“Where are you taking me, daddy?” you whisper against his lips, your hips now grinding down against the head of his hard boner. Delighting in the fact that his grip on your ass becomes bruising, your rolling hips don’t slow down.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, baby girl.”

A chill slammed down your spine at that nickname, and you bite down on his lower lip. His gaze met yours, his eyes flaring with an internal fire that only aided to the light between your thighs. Fuck, did you want this man.

The door opened and closed when Natsuo entered your room, and your tongue lapped at his lips. 

His right hand left your ass, and you felt him fumble with the waistband of his joggers. You looked down to see his joggers and briefs fall, but had no time to admire the long and thick cock that sprung free from that restraint.

In what seemed like a perfect and fluid motion, Natsuo sat on your bed. He then shoved the panty of your teddy to the side.

“I don’t particularly like being teased, and last night was a lot,” he admitted, his fingers pressing between your already wet folds, and you cursed. Your hips ground against Natsuo’s fingers, and he grinned, seeing your reaction. “I think you deserved to be punished, don’t you think, baby girl?”

“No,” you breathlessly state, the feeling of his thick and cold fingers against your heated core formed goosebumps all over your body. “I think I’ve been perfectly well behaved, daddy.”

“I see we have a liar,” he chuckled, and before you could think of something to return with, his hands gripped your waist and sank you against his cock.

“FUCK!” you screamed at the feeling of his thick cock stretching you out in such a way that had your forehead slamming against his shoulder. 

Your hips moved, trying to find a way to adjust to Natsuo’s girth that nearly sent tears to your eyes. You could feel the way his cock twitched within you, your tightness, and slick heat getting to him too while he whispered senseless praises into your ear. Your hips moved forward, both trying to relieve the pressure that demanded to be attended to and to bring the mindnumbing pleasure that your body begged for.

But Natsuo’s hands gripped onto your hips, keeping you against his girth. Your jaw dropped to complain, but his left hand lifted to press his fingers in your mouth, effectively silencing you. You gagged softly against his fingers, and you made a whining noise while his right arm wrapped around your waist.

His right fingers dug into your skin, most likely leaving behind purple bruises while his mouth trailed to your ears.

“You’ve been naughty, baby girl,” he sighed, his fingers pressed against your tongue, spreading out slowly when they traveled further back in your throat. Your breathing piqued, trying to remain calm while your throat attempted to constrict around his fingers. “Now, you’ll sit on my cock until I think you’re ready to be fucked.”

Your eyes fluttered when his fingers began to slide up and down your throat, your hips twitching in an attempt to get the friction you craved, and your inner walls ached around his softly throbbing cock. His finger curled in your throat, and your tongue lashed around his fingers, a desperate attempt to remain calm in this situation.

Forcibly, you clenched your inner walls around his cock, and he hissed out your name.

It felt like an eternity with his cock buried balls deep within you, your mouth trying to please Natsuo’s fingers while you resisted the urge to move. 

“Daddy’s gonna fuck you now,” Natsuo muttered and you felt an incredible wave of joy shoot through you, you wanted him to fuck you until your eyes were rolling to the back of your head, drool pouring from your mouth, and his name the only word you could utter.

Suddenly you were on your back, and Natsuo’s cock was no longer in you, nor were his fingers. You shuffled onto your elbows, but Natsuo’s hands grabbed the hem of your shirt and tore it over your head. Your chest rose and fell with your approaching excitement, and Natsuo’s eyes took in the lace teddy that you wore. It blended in with your skin with such refinement that you took in pride at the way his fingers trailed against the fabric.

“Like what you see, daddy?” you ask in almost a whisper, and Natsuo’s snap up to look into your hooded ones.

“You’re so beautiful, baby girl. So perfect,” he agrees, his fingers dragging upwards, moving against your sensitive breasts, making your body arch up into his touch. The stimulation of his cold fingers against your nipples in such thin clothing, along with those sweet affirming words, sent sparks of electricity throughout your body. 

His fingers hooked under the straps of the teddy, and soon it was pulled off your body, joining the t-shirt somewhere in the room. It’s removal left you with nothing but the thigh highs, and by the looks of it, he liked that.

You couldn’t find words to tease him with because his finger trailed against your inner thigh, and you trembled at his touch. 

Natsuo smirked down at you, placing a soft kiss against your cheek before continuing to kiss along your jawline, to your neck, and then down your sternum. “Tell me, baby girl, what do you want?” Between every word, he trailed further down until his mouth was nibbling at the skin between your thighs, ignoring where you wanted and needed him most.

“I want you to fuck me,” you panted when Natsuo pinched one of your nipples, rolling the hardened skin as his teeth bit against your thighs, making your chest arch up into his touch, and made your legs tremble. Your pussy clenched desperately at his ministrations, your aching clit begging to be touched. 

“Do you deserve to cum?” Natsuo pulled away from your thigh with a pop. His fingers trailed back down your stomach, grazing your labia, chuckling at the way your hips twitched against him. 

Natsuo slipped two fingers into your cunt, keeping them still inside you as he maintained eye contact. He watched as you writhed beneath him, your hips snapping to relax against the fullness his fingers gave you. Slowly your movements began to feel good; your actions, to feel good, soon became a desperate attempt fuck yourself against his fingers. Slowly Natsuo began to thrust them in and out of your aching core ignoring your throbbing clit that you couldn’t muster the energy to touch. 

“Please, daddy,” your hands found themselves holding onto his forearm, fiercely trying to get him to do more with his fingers. “Fuck me good.”

Growling lowly, Natsuo arched his two fingers towards puffy inner walls, pressing down against it, and he watched your face contort in pleasure as a low whine left your lips. Natsuo grinned when he saw the way your eyes clenched closed, musical moans pouring from your lips when his fingertips brushed against your g-spot. Your jaw dropped, your hips taking over his finger fucking so that you were fucking yourself on his fingers. The clenching of your walls grew more and more, your toes curling with the impending orgasm approaching you, the build-up overwhelming. 

“So needy, baby girl,” Natsuo suddenly removed his fingers from your heat, your whines and desperate cries ignored while you bucked your hips up towards him, desperate for a release. You watched as Natsuo examined your slick essence on his fingers before looking at you. “Suck it off the baby girl,” he said, putting his fingers between your mouth, and without a second thought, your mind is broken from the denied orgasm you opened your mouth and sucked your sweet essence from them as you writhed beneath him. The taste of yourself on your tongue drove you almost insane; you liked the taste intermingled with the taste of him. What would you have to do to get a taste of his cum with yours? “You’re not allowed to cum until I say you can, baby girl.” 

Your mouth loosed against his fingers, and you whined at his instruction. Natsuo only shoved his fingers further down your throat and roughly fisted his cock, using his hand to glide it along your slit, gathering your juices along the tip with a low groan. He pressed the head inside your tight cunt, watching as your body reacted to the sensation. Your hips pushing forward, trying to get him to go deeper. Natsuo chuckled while he rubbed his cock along your slit again, teasing you, not giving you what you craved most. 

“Tell me what you want me to do, baby girl,” Natuso mockingly asked, knowing exactly what you wanted. His fingers removed from your mouth, and you gasped with the needed breath, and when you were ready, you spoke. 

“Fuck me, daddy, I need you to—” Natsuo’s fingers pressed against your clit, making you shrill in pleasure. 

“Such naughty words,” Natsuo ran his fingertip over your clit, smirking when your tongue came out in a pathetic pant, trying to control your desperate and needy breathing. The action made Natsuo groan, immediately imagining how that would feel on other parts of his body. His restraint wavering when he pulled back, steadying himself between your legs before he slammed into your aching pussy without warning. The sensation of feeling completely full after being denied sent you soaring towards your release. 

“Such a good girl,” Natsuo pressed a sloppy kiss to your lips, thrusting into your pussy as he watched your mouth fall open in pleasure. A constant slew of gibberish leaving your lips as you became lightheaded from the desire, and your arms wrapped around his shoulders to bring him closer. Natsuo’s cock fit inside you perfectly, the prominent veins on his length brushing against your inner walls were now moving, no longer stagnant, and only added to your pleasure. The tight feeling in the core of your stomach began to overwhelm you, the tip of his cock consistently pounding against your sweet spot, your climax threatening to wash over you. “Do you know how fucking gorgeous you are? These thigh highs are fucking driving me crazy… so pretty, so beautiful against your skin. It’s like you dressed this way on purpose, trying to get me to fuck you like you deserve to be fucked.

You whimpered while you shifted your arms around Natsuo’s neck, pulling his body flush against your own as he continued to rut into your tight heat. The angle at which his snapping hips were drilling into you had his pelvis rub against your clit, your legs tightening around his hips as his cock rubbed against your inner walls. You cried out his name, your clit throbbing at the sensation, your body stiffening as he moved faster.

“Who do you think you’re addressing?” Before you could attempt to respond, Natsuo’s right-hand leaves your hip and slams to your throat, choking the response from you. “I want to hear you correct your answer.”

His hand remains heavy and tight around your throat, his hold barely allowing oxygen to travel through to your lungs. Your vision fuzzed, and you could feel your heartbeat in your head, but your core shook with Natsuo’s now reciprocating and rhythmic slams.

“Y-You are, daddy,” you moan loudly, your thighs trembling with the feeling of his fingers around your throat.

Choking and clit stimulation with his cock pounding into your cervix, Natsuo chuckled into your skin. His thrusting hips were becoming more precise, angling into you in a way that made you audibly choke when you needed to gasp. Maybe it was the lack of oxygen to your body that was making you delirious, or perhaps it was the fact that he was slamming into you with the strength of rearranging your guts, but your hips began to swivel at an inhumane pace. Your cunt held a vice grip around his cock, yet it did nothing to slow Natsuo down, but the growing heated pit in your lower belly was making your legs tremble against his. Still, you tried to keep up with his rough and cruel pace, and Natsuo enjoyed knowing that detail.

“You’re fucking beautiful, baby girl. Your pretty little pussy is so fucking tight, I bet you’ve been saving yourself for me? Such a good girl, taking my cock like this, you’re fucking amazing.” He praises, his teeth biting down against your bottom lip. Your breathless moans slipping past your lips. “You enjoy being choked, baby girl?”

Your head nods, “Y-Yes, daddy!”

“Do you need to cum? Maybe I’ll allow it, your pussy has been so good.”

His hand against your throat tightened, and black dots littered your vision. His teeth sunk far into your skin, enough for you to feel your skin breaking as his tongue moving in cold strokes to calm your now throbbing skin. Then there were his nimble left fingers running against your clit and pressed delicate circles in time with his hammering and throbbing cock. But your swiveling hips held no value anymore, Natsuo’s hips snapped upwards fast enough and powerful enough to overcome and overwhelm you. The only thing you could tell was that along with the tip of his cock hitting your bruising walls, the sounds of your sopping wet pussy crashing against his forceful hips frantically rang in your ears.

Your bodies moved together entirely, his thrusts pushing you back further into the bed as he followed your movements. The bed frame hitting the wall with every harsh thrust, and your mattress springs creaking heavy in your ears. The noise of the headboard slamming against the wall was almost as loud as your moans of pleasure as your fingernails ripped into Natsuo’s shoulders, calling out his name in a mantra. 

“I need to cum, daddy. P-please, let me cum—” Natsuo could feel your body shaking underneath him as your orgasm was so close after being built up and denied. 

“Cum for me, y/n.” Natsuo groaned as your inner walls clenched around his length at his vulgar words, “cum all over my cock.”

Your eyes clamped closed, almost in synch. Your head nods, the heated pressure in your belly scorching. Your walls clamp down against his hammering cock, but it doesn’t slow him down, only encouraging him to increase his speed and strength until the bed shuddered against your weight. The sopping noises of your meeting sex filled your ears, and you moaned loudly, your teeth biting down onto your lip.

It takes his cock brushing against your g-spot for your legs to slam outwards, your arms nearly succeeding in choking Natsuo as you try sitting up as your orgasm slams through you.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” You scream hoarsely. Your scream only increases in great thrill when you feel Natsuo’s cock twitching unrestrainedly within you. But Natsuo ignores his own near, his hips continuing to drill into you, his hand clamping tighter against your neck, cutting off your voice. 

Natsuo isn’t done yet, not yet.

His hands move to grip the exposed back of your thighs, his grip bruising your supple skin. He slams into you faster, his cock continuing unaffected by your convulsing walls. There are no other noises except your wet cunt meeting his cock, your muffled shrieks of approval, and Natsuo’s heavy breathing as he continues to drive into you. Your convulsing walls body only making Natsuo stammer and curse loudly.

His lips find yours, and there is nothing to say, the kiss is messy, saliva coating your lips like lipstick. Spit filled kisses were exchanged between the two of you without care, while he chases his orgasm. His intense pace continues, your name growled from your throat, until one last thrust and one final clamp from your cunt sends him over.

Natsuo soon collapsed on top of you, his typically colder body burning with an almost feverish heat while his fingers traced against the frill of your thigh highs.

“That was something,” you mumble into his ear, and Natsuo snorts softly, his head nodding in agreement.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he whispered, pushing off your body; his eyes examined your raw body.

“Nah,” you disagreed with a smile, your fingers brushing through the bangs of his hair. “If you did, I liked it.”

“Masochist,” he teased, his lips pressing against yours in a soft and tender kiss. 

“I just might be, and if I am?”

“Then I think we’ll get along just fine, baby girl.”

“Okay, daddy.”

Soulmates weren’t perfect; you knew that more than anyone! But, while you lay there with his head against your chest. Hours after the two of you had cleaned up and gone for a few more rounds, you realized that this was what you wanted. You and your soulmate. That’s all that mattered when you were together, and things worked out.

[eideticmemory]

EVER SINCE NEW YORK II | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

Description: Description: I was messaged saying: “If you don’t write a young Matthew enemies to lovers fic featuring an obsession with sucking on boobs then what’s the point 😔.” So, here it is, folks! The ultimate College!Matthew fic.

PART 2! Read Part 1 here.

Soundtrack:

Maps - Maroon 5.

Me & Ur Ghost - Blackbear.

Keep You Close - Frenship.

Word Count: 3,341.

Rating: M.

Warning/Includes: Sexual intercourse, substance use, a bit of angst.

Fall, Sophomore Year.

Tisch School of the Arts,

New York University.

New York City. 

“Okay, you know what?” You scoffed, throwing your hands up in surrender. “I give up. I don’t give a fuck anymore.”

Claire laughed from behind you, “You alright over there?”

“No,” you grumbled. You pressed down on the black frame, using all your might to make the command strip stick to the wall. Yet, when you stepped back, it would pop off of the surface, and your ballet poster was lopsided. It’d been a vicious cycle for 10 minutes. “This goddamn command strip won’t stick. What the fuck?” 

“Okay, grumpy, step away from the poster,” Claire ordered, grabbing onto your shoulders and escorting you to the center of the room. “The room looks great, [y/n], why are you so stressed?” 

“I am not stressed. I am frustrated, and those damn command strips aren’t cheap. I’m pissed.” 

“Okay, staples queen, tell you what,” she sighed. “I will go buy you a pack of command strips and personally mount the poster myself, okay?” 

You looked up at Claire, giving her a soft smile. “Did I win the roommate lottery or what?”

“Yeah, but better not say stuff like that too much. People are gonna start thinking we’re a different type of roommates.”

You laughed, and shook your head at her. 

“[y/n], what’s up?” Claire asked. “You’ve been moody as fuck ever since we moved back in for the semester. Classes haven’t even started yet and you’re moping around. What’s going on?”

Well, Claire, you thought. I’m glad you asked. I’m glad you brought it up, because I’ve been dying to talk about it for a while. You see, I fucked my mortal enemy, and it was so good that I did it a second time. And no, I’m not talking about my cinematography professor, I’m talking about Matthew. Gubler. I fucked Matthew Gubler. Yes, I know. Hell has frozen over. Because I hated him. I hate him. I think he’s awful. Especially since he thinks it’s okay to fuck someone, ignore their existence, fuck them again, ignore their existence, and then leave them with a vague ass note? 505. 505! I’ve looked up every possible meaning of 505 that there is. The song, urban dictionary, numerology. And I can’t figure the shit out. And it doesn’t help that Matthew didn’t say a word to me over summer break. I’m just lost and confused and I know you would understand and you would know what to do. 

But it’s Matthew. 

And I can’t tell anyone. Especially you. 

“Last semester was a royal disaster,” you sighed. “I just don’t wanna overwhelm myself again. Y’know with class, and shows, and parties. I wanna do right this semester, but it’s a little stressful. So, I’m a little stressed.” 

Claire looked at you for a long time, eyebrows lowered and her eyes scanning your face. She had a gut feeling that you were lying, but didn’t wanna be a bitch. So she bit her tongue. 

“Let’s go get something to eat,” she smiled. 

Classes started that following Monday. Your first lecture was at 10 o’clock. And you woke up at 10:15. Having showered the night before, you brushed your teeth, put on your outfit and fixed your hair all in ten minutes and hiked it across campus in 4 minutes. You rushed up to the classroom door, and entered the lecture very calmly. People were scattered about in the auditorium, some towards the sides, a lot front and center. But only one person sitting in the very back row.

Matthew. 

Too occupied with explaining yourself to your professor, you didn’t notice Matthew until a few minutes after entering. You refused to make eye contact with him, nervously staring at your feet as you walked over to him. And took a seat at his side. 

“Hey.”

“Hey.” 

Those were the only words spoken for an hour and fifteen minutes. However, within 10 minutes of seeing you again, Matthew began to rub your thigh. His fingers grazed the top of your leg, slowly but surely making their way to your inner thigh. You held your breath, staring up at the professor the whole time and pretending to take notes. 

When Matthew’s fingers pressed against your clit, you almost gasped. But you kept your mouth shut, stifling the sound. He smirked to himself, only glancing at you when you were too shaken up to notice. You propped up the screen of your laptop, hiding your face behind it so you could let out quiet moans. You were so sensitive, and very glad that you wore a skirt to class. 

Matthew’s fingers slid your panties to the side and made skin to skin contact with your clit, applying pressure as he rubbed you. You exhaled for a long time, swear words wanting to fly out of your mouth instead. The professor’s words drowned out a long time ago, and at this point you didn’t care. You just needed to come. 

Matthew remembered the way you liked to be touched, he had to. Because he was able to bring you to the edge so quickly, it was insane. You clenched your thighs around his wrist to signal your nearing release, and he grinned. 

You rested your head on the keyboard of your laptop, hiding from everyone as you came. Your jaw dropped, and you had to stop yourself from groaning too loudly. Matthew removed his hand from under your skirt. He sucked on the tips of his fingers, just to get the taste of you on his tongue. Then, with only 2 minutes left in class, he packed up his stuff and walked out.

You should’ve dropped the class. At the very least, sat somewhere else. But you didn’t. You stayed in that course. With Matthew. In the back row. And wore skirts every other day for a month. Some days he would repeat the action, and some days he wouldn’t. It was like he could tell how desperate you were each time. And if you were really desperate, he simply didn’t touch you. It sucked, but it kept you on your toes. 

He missed class one day, and to cope, you had a dream about him that night. You imagined him using his mouth on you, in an empty lecture hall, bending you over the desk, making you come. When you woke up, you were in a cold sweat. You couldn’t believe you were having thoughts like this about Matthew Gubler. But you were. 

You hopped out of bed, put on your slippers, and left the room to go to the vending machines. Holding a soda and some candy, you walked back to your dorm room silently. Alerted by the sound of footsteps, you turned your head down the hall to see Claire walking out of someone’s room. She noticed you and rushed up to you with a big smile. 

“Hey!” She beamed. “What are you doing up?”

“Oh, uh, I couldn’t sleep. Where you been?”

She sighed happily, “I’ve been doing adult things, [y/n], I cannot lie.” She wrapped her arm around your shoulder as you both walked to your room. “I’m in love, kid. It’s crazy.”

“You’re in love? With who?”

“Ah, that will soon be revealed, my dear [y/n].” 

That weekend, you two invited everyone to come hang out at your dorm. Someone was able to swipe some liquor, and it was a party. A handful of people, getting a little tipsy, music in the background. Claire insisted Matthew be invited, but you weren’t expecting him to show up. But of course, he did. Because he’s a nuisance. 

He laid down on Claire’s bed and she sat beside him, the two of them quickly joining the conversation at hand. You tried not to look like a kicked puppy, tried not to pout, to sulk, to watch. But inch by inch, second by second, Claire moved closer to Matthew, until by the end of the night, her head was on his chest. 

That Monday, you sat in the front of the class. 

And every class after that for the next month. 

Missing your daily release, you became cranky and nasty and moody. You didn’t mean to, but that’s how it happened. To help you get over the nagging feeling, you went out one Saturday night. A group of friends dragged you along to a dorm party in the next building over. You used it as an excuse to dress up, ignore your homework and get some fresh air. In a tight purple dress, you walked into the booming dorm. It was packed, smelled like booze and filled with heat. 

A cup of vodka in your hand, it wasn’t until about two hours in that you realized you didn’t want to party. You sat on the couch the whole time, fiddling with your hands and the hem of your dress. You’d drank an entire solo cup of alcohol by then, and you were starting to get tired. Your friends had gotten lost a long time ago, and you knew it was fruitless to look for them. So, you picked yourself up and started to head for the exit. 

“[y/n]!” 

You turned around to see a guy walking towards you. Jonathan. “Hey, John, what the hell is going on?” You asked, noticing him supporting another guy on his shoulder. His friend was a drunken, sloppy mess, and could barely stand.

“Our boy Steve here had a little too much to drink,” John replied. “I’m taking him back to his room. You going back to your place?”

You nodded, “Yeah. I am.”

“Okay, do you mind helping me with him? Please? I’ll give you a dollar.”

You laughed, shook your head and put your arm around Steve’s waist. “Ooh, a dollar! Sounds exciting.” 

It was cold, and you shivered on the way back to your dorm building. Steve only lived down the hall from you, so helping wasn’t too far out of the way for you. John used Steve’s key to let the three of you into Steve’s suite, guiding both of you to Steve’s room. 

You both worked together to lay Steve down on his mattress. You covered him with his blanket. 

“You’re a lifesaver,” John told you. “We both are actually.”

“Maybe we should start a business. We escort drunk people home for a small fee of $100.”

He laughed, “I’m in as long as you dress like that every time.”

You blushed, and ducked your head down to hide it. 

“What’s going on in here?” A voice called to you two. 

You looked up at the threshold to see Matthew standing there, looking sleepy, disheveled, shirtless, and beautiful. 

“Hey, Gube,” John greeted. “[y/n] and I were just dropping Steve off. Kid couldn’t  hold his liquor.” 

Matthew scoffed, “You could’ve left him there. Let him get dicks drawn on his face.”

“Well, aren’t you full of love?” John laughed. “No, seriously, I’ve gotta text Lindsey and let her know I’m staying in for tonight.” He padded at his pocket, followed by a loud groan, “Fuck, I left my phone at the party. Fuck me.” 

“That’s a higher power trying to tell you that you need to stay out longer,” Matthew said. 

John smirked at him, “You’re right. Wonderful insight, Gubler.”

John walked out of the door, heading for the exit, and you followed him, avoiding eye contact with Matthew. As the two of you approached the front door, you froze. John exited the suite, not noticing that he was leaving you behind. And you would’ve moved if you had the power. 

Hanging on the door of the suite was the room number: 505.

Your breath caught in your throat. 505. The room number. The room number of the suite you saw Claire leaving that day. 505.

“What took you so long?” Matthew asked, standing behind you. 

You released your breath, goosebumps crawling on your skin as you felt him get closer to you. Your heart raced, your body trembled. You had a physical response to being near this boy. It was intense. 

“I’m not doing this, Matthew,” you whispered. 

“Doing what? We’re just talking.”

You turned around to face him, suddenly very angry, “No! You know what I’m talking about! You know what I’m talking about! And it’s gone on for long enough, Matthew. I’m out!” You kept your voice quiet, but still aggressive. You turned to exit the dorm, but he grabbed onto your waist and pulled you into him. 

“Listen, Princess Peach,” he said.

“Fuck you—“

“Listen. I don’t know what your deal is, but I do know that I miss you—“

“You’re full of shit. You just wanna fuck.”

“That’s what I said. I miss you. I mean, for such a short person, your pussy packs a punch.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Face it,” he murmured. “You may hate me, but your pussy doesn’t.”

Your body melted into his at the sound of his voice. The feeling of his hands running down your body, landing on your thigh. “Just admit it. Or tell me to stop.” His fingers trailed under your dress, the tips grazing you through your panties. Your head rolled back at the gentle touch and he took that as an invitation to kiss your neck. 

“Cmon, shortcake, tell me to stop,” he mumbled. “Tell me to stop.” 

You responded by wrapping your hands around his throat, using all your strength to push him out the living room couch. He chuckled under his breath, stumbling back onto the cushion and pulling you into his lap. 

“Oh, you gonna choke me?” He asked, his voice coming out strained. “Okay, princess, you hate me so much? You can’t stand me?” He pushed his pants down to reveal his erection. “Fuck me like it then.” 

You crashed your lips onto his and pushed him back onto the couch, reaching down to grab his cock. You pulled your panties to the side and teased him against your core, moaning as his tip rubbed against your clit. You sank down onto his dick, feet pressed into the couch, hands holding his neck. 

He stared up at you as you fucked him — fast and careless. Swear words fell off of his lips uncontrollably, his hands pawing at your breast. Your boobs fit perfectly in his palm and he was obsessed. He had to bite down on his bottom lip to stay quiet, grunting into his mouth. 

“F-fuck,” he panted. “Wait, wait.” 

You leaned in and kissed him roughly, grinding your hips against his. You made sure to stay silent, giving no indication that you were experiencing so much pleasure. 

“H-hey — shit, fuck,” he groaned. “Wait.”

Matthew placed his hands on your ass, his eyes closed tight, his body tensing up as you rode him into the wall. “Oh, fuck!” He exclaimed, and lifted you off of his cock. Quickly, just in time for him to release all over his stomach. He panted, he quivered, he mumbled soft, dirty words. Whispered something about you. 

As pretty a sight as it was, you refused to sit there and stare. So, you stood up, pulled the hem of your dress down. And this time, you left. Not a word said. Nothing. 

Matthew followed you on instagram that night. You didn’t accept the request for a week, and when you did, you didn’t follow him back. He tried to add you on snapchat, but you declined it. You continued to sit far away from him in class, giving him no access. He brought you a drink at a party once and you asked for water instead. When he returned with the water, you had already left. 

He had met his match. You dominated him, successfully, fearlessly, and without even trying. He wanted more. But you liked to watch him so squirm, so you didn’t give in. 

Christmas break rolled around, and instead of focusing on the actual holiday, you and your friends planned your first spring break vacation. A group of you would head to South Beach for the week, and stay at a relative’s beach house. 

You sat on your bed, trying to map out the cost of the trip. “So it’s me, you, the four of them...Claire, are you listening to me?”

“Is this a good Christmas gift for Matthew?” 

You turned your head to her quickly, “Huh?” 

“This,” she held up the book - The Magic Encyclopedia. “You think Matthew will like it?”

“Claire,” you sighed. “What are you doing?” 

“What do you mean?”

“What are you doing simping over this boy? Buying him gifts? This isn’t you, Claire.”

“Leave me alone, [y/n], okay? We’re just friends. And he told me he bought me a gift so I got him one. Jeez, do you have to hate him so much?” She pouted, dropping the book into a gift bag. 

“Um, actually, yeah I do,” you nodded. “He’s a dick.”

A knock rang at the door, and as Claire hopped up, she pointed her finger at you, “That’s him. Do not pick a fight.”

You rolled your eyes and went back to planning. Matthew stepped into the room, carrying a bag in one hand. He used his other hand to cup Claire’s face and give her a small kiss on the cheek. “Santa Claus is here!” He exclaimed. 

“Gimme, gimme, gimme!” Claire pleaded, reaching for the gift bag. 

“Wow, Claire, I’m hurt. You’re so materialistic.” He chuckled. 

“Oh, please, Gube,” she scoffed. “Give me my gift.”

“Okay,” he reached into the bag and pulled out a small box, wrapped into festive paper. “I got this for you, Claire,” he handed her the box. “And I even got something for your roommate here.”

You picked your head up, face ridden with confusion. Matthew licked his lips as he held the gift out to you, “I saw it and I couldn’t help myself. Merry Christmas, short stack.” 

“Aw, Gube!” Claire squealed. Matthew let her tuck herself under his arm and hug him. “You’re so sweet.”

You stared at the tiny box in your hands, feeling it’s weight. “Thanks...” you whispered.

“Here, open what I got you,” Claired ordered Matthew, stepping over to her bed and grabbing the gift bag. She handed it to him with a wide smile, and giggled as he reached inside. 

“Wow!” He cheered, holding the book in his hand. “Holy shit, Claire. This is incredible, thank you!”

“I knew how much you wanted that book so I remembered to get it,” she said. “So, I hope your gift for me is as impressive.”

“It is.”

As the two of them spoke, you opened up your own gift, quietly, hiding it behind your pillow. Claire unwrapped Matthew’s gift, and squealed. “Shut up! Where did you find this film?”

“Amazon!” he replied. “That fancy camera of yours only takes a certain type of film so I wanted you to be stocked.”

You pulled the item out of the box, focused on figuring out what it was. It was cold, metallic, and shone under the light as it was revealed. 

“Oh, Gube!” Claire pulled him into a hug. “This is incredible!”

It was an antique. A silver polished miniature  ballerina, perched on a pedestal. There was a knob on the side, and when turned, the ballerina twirled. It was precious. 

You looked over at Matthew and Claire, watching as they broke out of their hug and looked at each other. “I expect a bunch of pictures when I get back,” he told her, backing out of the room. 

“And I expect a professional magician,” she winked. Yuck. Claire turned her head to you after Matthew left, grinning, “What’d he get you?” 

You quickly pushed the ballerina back in the box, shaking your head. “Socks. Mismatched socks. Very funny.” You replied. 

She giggled, “But hey, a gift! That’s growth!”

“Yeah, whatever,” you grumbled. 

“Matthew’s great,” She said. “You’ll get to know him better soon, since he’s coming to the beach with us.”

“He’s what?”

[PART 3.]

[marshmallow-phd]

Catching Rain

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Minseok x Reader

Summary: You were more than satisfied with your life. You attended a nice college, had nice friends, a nice boyfriend. That’s what your life was: nice. You weren’t looking for anything more, so what were you to do when this seemingly harmless boy walked into your life and turned your nice little world into one much more dangerous?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I Epilogue

**

You parked on the side of an empty back road, careful not to stop in any spot that might be muddy. It hadn’t rained for a few days, but with the weather lately, you couldn’t be too careful. The last thing you needed was to have to call Erik and confess to him that you did indeed go out to the woods to take pictures and were now stuck in the mud and needed his help.

A small part of you felt guilty. His concern wasn’t completely unfounded. If he’d had gotten hurt working on a backdrop by himself, whether by falling off a ladder or being hit by a light, you would be hesitant about him doing it again. But each of you were your own person, right? Independent not codependent?

Okay, it was probably time to lay of the self-help books for a while. You took one modern philosophy class and it had been a downward spiral from there. Perhaps it was time to give the supernatural genre a try.

The trees smelled intoxicating. Mixed with the humidity in the air, it was the kind of scent that could outperform even the most expensive of perfumes. It was an aroma that surrounded you, engulfed you in its arms the further into the woods you went. The peaceful smile that pulled on the corners of your lips were automatic, involuntary. Not that you would fight if you could. Despite the rumors of wolves running around, you were comfortable here.

Deep within the forest, a wide, oval clearing full of browned wildflowers rested. Bits of green here and there tried to break through the foliage that had died during the harsh winter. Their odds of making it through might not have been great, but you admired their tenacity.

These clearings were common in the woods and yet, they were your favorite places to capture. From one angle, it could seem like you were lost in a fast labyrinth of Mother Nature. Another, a prairie that belonged to another region entirely. The possibilities were endless if you really thought about it. And each clearing, you’d discovered, was unique within itself. Its shape, the plants it held, the thickness of the grass. You knew you hadn’t found every one yet, but you were determined to someday. For now, though, you would have stick with this particular clearing that you had visited before, as it was close to the road for a quick getaway, should you need it.

Sliding the bags off your shoulder, you crouched down and dug through until you found your notebook. The pages were unlined, which allowed you to right down your thoughts and ideas at odd angles. To you, it gave the otherwise somewhat boring inside a more artistic aesthetic. The plain leather cover was soft in your hands, worn from the amount of use and abuse you’d put it through. It wasn’t exactly common for photographers to write out their ideas before shooting. Some drew out the scene they wanted to capture, trying out different angles in their imagination. Most didn’t do any sort of prep like this at all. But you preferred to write it out, especially since most of your ideas tended to come at the most inconvenient times. Scribbling down half-coherent words tended to be quicker than a sketch.

After a quick review of your latest ideas, you tossed the notebook down and turned on your camera. You took several test shots, adjusting each settling until you came to the look you were searching for. Long shots and close ups, you photographed nearly every square foot of that clearing in order to get that one picture. That one picture that took everyone’s breath away, that made them stop and tilt their head every which way in order to take the scene in at all possible viewpoints. You wanted to them to see the world the way you did.

So in tuned to what you were doing, you hadn’t noticed the pair of eyes watching you from the shadows. They gave off the faintest glow filled with curiosity as they hovered in the air. You snapped a few photos in their direction, still unaware of their presence, and then lowered the camera to look back on the shots. At first, when you clicked through the pictures, you didn’t notice the tiny amber dots that blended in with the foliage. But by the fourth picture, you stopped.

Never before had you been scared by this place. Then again, the only animals you’d ever encountered before were rabbits and deer and other mostly harmless critters. These did not look like the eyes of a friendly Disney sidekick. Ice ran down your spine. You couldn’t run. If it was a predator, that would only encourage it. So, you tried to remain as still as possible while lifting your eyes to the spot that the animal was hiding. Perhaps there was a chance that it wouldn’t sense your fear and would take your stare down as a reason to walk away.

No such luck.

The leaves under its paws rustled as it stepped forward into the sun.

A tannish wolf with a long black strip down its back revealed itself. But it didn’t look menacing. In fact, though you might have been fooling yourself, it seemed almost… curious? Confused? It was hard to read the expression since you couldn’t fully compare it to a human. With slow, thoughtful steps, it came closer. You tried to remain still, tried not to move. The strain was causing your legs to tremble slightly. Now, you felt tremendously stupid for not listening to Willa’s warning about wolves. Was this considered an ironic moment? You weren’t entirely sure since language arts had never been your strong suit.

Unable to keep you upright anymore, your legs gave out. At least you landed on your butt with your camera hanging safely around your neck. Your fingernails dug into the dirt next to you as the wolf came closer, still at that same cautious pace. Harder and harder, your heart pounded in your ears. The wolf paused for a few seconds before continuing on. Could it hear your terrified pulse? Silently, you said your goodbyes as the wolf erased all space between you. Its muzzle nudged your cheek, coming to a stop near your ear. It sniffed deeply, then jumped back.

Your eyes widened, somewhat relieved that it hadn’t pounced, but also confused. Why wasn’t it attacking? Why did it look spooked?

The wolf sat back, head tilting back and forth as it studied you. It made no threatening moves or sounds. The tips of its ears perked up and it let out a sound that was eerily similar to a scoff.

“I guess you’re not hungry then?” An odd thing to say out loud to an animal that couldn’t talk, but you blamed it on the shock of the whole situation.

The wolf responded with a short puff of air before lowering itself down to its stomach.

This was… surreal. All the other animals you’d ever encountered had either kept their distance or ran away at the slightest sound. And yet, here was this wolf, laying in front of you, not vicious or aggressive. It was almost… cute, in a way.

“You’re a strange creature,” you said out loud. The wolf apparently took that as a sign to come closer. Crawling on its stomach, it took came to the point where it was almost able to rest its head in your lap-

The shrill sound of your current favorite song ripped through the air. You gasped, jumping up to your feet and running to your bag where you desperately searched through the pockets until you found your phone. It was Willa.

“Hello?”

“Hey, where are you?”

“I, um,” you glanced at the wolf who had jumped up to its feet. “I got bored so I’m just out driving around. Why?”

“Jiyoung called and asked last second to switch shifts at the coffee shop and so I’m free for the evening. And I’m hungry.”

You laughed a little at her not-so-subtle hint. “Alright. Give me twenty minutes to get back to the dorm. How does brick oven pizza sound?”

“Like heaven.”

“Okay, then. See you soon.” You ended the call and looked up, meeting eyes with the wolf. It never broke contact and in turn, gave you a bit more bravery. Lifting up the camera, you snapped a single shot of the wolf. “I’ll be back.” A strange promise to make, but you said it anyway. You wanted another encounter with this mysterious creature. Gathering up your things, you hurried out of the clearing and back through the trees to your car, still sitting on the side of the road.

It took less than twenty minutes to make it back to the university. Back at the dorm, Willa was lying on her bed, scrolling through her phone mindlessly. She sat up as soon as you came through the door.

“Fun drive?” she asked.

You shrugged. “It was fine.”

“No exciting scenes to snap?”

Her tease made you roll your eyes. “No, not really. Now, come on. I thought you said you wanted to eat?”

Not missing a beat, Willa jumped up from the bed, snatched up her purse, and pulled you out of the room, contemplating out loud which signature pizza sounded good.

**

Minseok growled as he ran through the forest. How he could have possibly lost those three was beyond him. Being unable to find them now was even more stupefying. They were loud, how could he not know which direction to take? He had to be careful. This part of the forest was close to the back roads and Junmyeon was worried they were being spotted too often. If the three them weren’t paying attention-

Click. Click. Click.

Minseok brought himself to a halt at the strange sound. There wasn’t any sort of pattern to it, but there was an underlying shuttering that seemed vaguely familiar. Too curious to just ignore it, Minseok headed in the direction e suspected it came from. Once he found the answer, he’d go back to finding the others.

The sound led him to one of the many clearings in the woods. A person wandering around the area taking pictures seemed to be the source, a camera in their hands. You appeared to be alone. Odd since not many ventured out in the forest by themselves. The isolation didn’t seem to bother you, though as you carelessly went about your task.

Staying in the shadows, Minseok watched your back as you continued to photograph the nature around you. Something… something strange was tingling in his shoulders, like the muscle beneath the skin had fallen asleep. Without prompt from him, his paw moved forward. He should be leaving. Be gone before you spotted him. But he couldn’t do it. Something told him to wait.

That’s when you turned around. By the way you kept taking pictures, you hadn’t seen him. It wasn’t until you lowered the camera to review the film did you freeze. And you weren’t the only one.

Something in Minseok’s world snapped when he saw your face. His muscles contracted, shivered and ached.

Go! an inner voice urged. He tried to turn his body in the opposite direction of you, but failed. Not that way! He had no choice but to obey. So he stepped closer to you. Your eyes snapped up, meeting his own. In his chest, his heart accelerated. What was this? What was going on?

Slightly fighting each movement, Minseok broke out from the tree line and into the clearing. It was obvious you were frightened. And he was breaking all the rules by revealing himself. Logic could not win, however. He kept walking. Even after you fell backwards, he was only able to pause for a brief second. Your rapidly beating heart was loud in his own sensitive ears. But he wasn’t so sure that it was completely out of fear. He needed to be closer. So closer he went. The whiskers of his muzzle brushed against your cheek, sending a lightning bolt through his body. He took in your scent and reeled back. 

You smelled human. You were human. But… there’s something different about you and he couldn’t fathom what it might be. 

“I guess you’re not hungry then?” you said oddly. 

Minseok laughed. Well, as much as he could with this ribcage and these vocal cords. Overwhelmed, he adjusted to a more comfortable position. The feeling in his chest was almost all consuming and it weighed him down. He’d seen plenty of humans on his runs, but this had never happened before. Was this something that would only happen because he was in his wolf form? Or would he still feel like this if he saw you on two legs?

With a glimmer in your eye, you sighed, “You’re a strange creature.” 

Taking that as sign, he tested the waters and pulled himself across the grass with his front paws, closing the gap between you. 

A song suddenly cut through the air and forced him to a stop before he could rest his head in your lap - an action that he was itching to try out. You jumped up with a gasp and ran to the bags resting at the bottom of a tree. Frantically, you searched the pockets until you found the source of the noise, answering the call.

“Hello?”

“Hey, where are you?” asked a female voice on the other end. 

“I, um,” you glanced over him, making him jump to his feet. Will you tell your friend the truth?  “I got bored so I’m just out driving around. Why?”

He almost let out a sigh from relief. Talk of an overly friendly wolf would be bad, especially if it spread through town and more people ventured into the woods to try and encounter him. 

“Jiyoung called and asked last second to switch shifts at the coffee shop and so I’m free for the evening. And I’m hungry.”

You laughed. “Alright. Give me twenty minutes to get back to the dorm. How does brick oven pizza sound?”

“Like heaven.”

“Okay, then. See you soon.” You hung up the call and met his eyes again. Impulsively, you took one last picture of him, which he didn’t shy away from. “I’ll be back,” you promised softly. 

Minseok could no longer feel the ground beneath him. He just stood there, watching as you ran through the trees in the direction of the road. When his senses came back to him, he noticed a small brown square hidden among the tan grass. He went closer to inspect what the object was. It was a notebook. 

It must be yours. 

Scooping the leather-bound book in his mouth, he took off after you. Following your scent through the forest was easy – it stood out like a pink flower in a sea of green grass. But he wasn’t quick enough. He caught the sight of your tail lights far down the road. He would have to keep a hold of the notebook until he saw you again. You did say that you would be back. 

Or you could track her down? 

Minseok shook that thought away. How would he ever explain that without giving away his true nature?

Giving up for the time being, he turned around and decided to head back to the house. There was no way he could find the others now. And with you gone, the elated feeling disappeared, leaving him weighted as if he were being dragged down into the earth. Each step was anchored down. It took him much longer to get back to the farm house. 

Several other members were scattered about the house, either working on their studies or clowning around. Your notebook tucked between his clothes and held close to his chest, he headed up to his room. After a quick shower, he got dressed once again and sat on the end of his bed. In his hands, he flipped the notebook over and over. He contemplated opening it. But that would be invading, wouldn’t it? But he wanted to find out about you. 

So he pulled open the cover. 

Inside, in the top right hand corner of the first page was your name. He smiled, saying it softly over and over. It felt… right on his lips. Your face hovered in his mind. It fit you so well, like a jacket tailored with perfection. 

The nature of wolves was an odd kind. There was a constant urge to belong. To belong to a pack and then… to belong to a person. 

Ever since he was young, he was told about how someday he find that special person whose soul was connected to his. Fate predetermined who that person would be and no one could ever fill the void that existed until that person came along. Ordinary humans would never experience that kind of feeling, that kind of love. The type of love for the wolf that could only be given by one person. 

A mate. 

Was that what you were? None of his brothers were mated. They were all free – some taking more advantage of the situation than others. Occasionally, they would joke about who would be first. Some thought it might be Yixing, given his soft heart and the genuine warmth he radiated. Others liked to joke that it would be Baekhyun or Jongin, the big serial daters of the pack. Minseok, though, had his money set on Jongdae. That wolf had barely been able to give in to the call of the pack when he first joined them all. He was verbally against the idea of mating, more so than anyone else. Opening up to people was not a strong suit of the younger wolf and Minseok couldn’t wait to see what kind of journey that would be once he was forced to. 

Minseok would have been the last person on everyone’s mind for the mated list. Not for any malicious reasons, just because he didn’t venture out very much beyond school so the odds of meeting someone new were low. Or so he thought. He liked being out at the house, being home. He was the very definition of “homebody”. Ironic that he ended up meeting you out here. 

Knock, knock, knock. 

He looked up and quickly hid the notebook beneath his pillows, just in time before Junmyeon, the alpha, peaked his head in. “Minseok?”

“Yeah?”

Junmyeon looked back towards the hallway. “Yeah, he’s in here!” he yelled. “Tell Jongdae to stop worrying!” 

Minseok laughed. Naturally, they leave him behind but then they get worried. He was the eldest, always looking after the others. And yet, oftentimes, it didn’t feel like that. 

Where he thought that might be the end of the checkup, Junmyeon, instead, closed the door behind him and sat down on the bed beside him. 

“Everything okay?” he asked. 

Minseok nodded. “Yeah, of course. Why?”

“I saw the look on your face when you came in,” Junmyeon explained. “You looked troubled.”

The two of them weren’t the closet out of the whole pack. In fact, there were times where it was awkward between them, the role of the alpha and the role of eldest clashing at times. But other times, he was the best one to turn to. 

“What do you know about the mating aspect of us?” 

Junmyeon pursed his lips, thinking. “The mating aspect? Only the basics, really. That when you meet that one person, that’s it. And you’re supposed to live happily ever after.” He laughed at the cheesy line, releasing some of the tension. 

Minseok couldn’t help but laugh along. It died out soon, though, as his mind went back to his current dilemma. “They always say you just know after one look. Do you think that’s right?”

“Yes, I do,” the alpha confirmed. “That’s all it takes. You feel it in here.” He tapped his chest, right about his heart. “Minseok? Why are you asking about this?”

He weighed his options. If this wasn’t what he thought it was and the others found out, he would never hear the end of it from them. But having someone validate his theory would ease some of the strain. 

“I think I found her.”

[kinetic-elaboration]

100 Days of Writing: Day Sixty-Three

I decided to catch up on The 100 Days of Writing and then I... accidentally wrote a large number of words. In my defense, this is like 2 weeks’ worth of questions. Also I skipped the ones I didn’t have anything to say about so actually this could be worse.

(I’m not even kidding, this is really long. I talk about writing rituals, tools for plotting, my thoughts on opening with dialogue and why I don’t like it, my favorite topics, the weather, and what length of fic I like to write.)

I’m tagging, and apologizing to, @the-wip-project and fellow participants @she-who-the-river-could-not-hold, @thelittlefanpire, @hopskipaway, @easilydistractedbyfanfic, @dylanobrienisbatman, and @fontainebleau22.

*

Day 49: How do you get yourself in the mood to write? Do you have a ritual?

Every time I tell myself I’m going to get back into doing these questions, I see this one in my bookmarks and go nope! and turn around. It’s not a hard question; I’ve just been having trouble consistently getting into the mood to write, so I feel like any answer I try to give to it will be, in some sense, a lie. Like do I ever get “in the mood” to write? Really?? Also, I feel like I’m relying too much on ‘ritual,’ building up ‘the perfect writing situation’ in my head, which at the end of the day is less important than just saying ‘I’m going to do this now’ and then doing it.

I do have some things I always do when I sit down to a writing session. I write on my couch. Almost always (unless I’m on an event deadline where I just have to write in bits and pieces whenever possible), I write in sprints—I use write or die to keep me actually typing and not staring into space. I write in order, and I often write a whole scene at a time. So before I start I need to have at least a couple solid opening sentences in mind, plus some kind of idea about what happens/needs to happen in the scene. In order to get in the right headspace, I usually spend some time just thinking before I actually get to writing. I reread my outline or notes, and skim whatever I might have already written on the project. Sometimes I look at images that help me get in the right mood. Sometimes I just imagine or daydream for a bit. The difficulty, especially recently, is in making sure I do this just enough and not too much, because then I get too caught up in my head and I can no longer translate what I’m seeing into words.

In a broader sense, I also have a building up to writing ritual—again, I think this is part of my problem, that I don’t know how to balance this build up with actual writing. In the hours/days before writing something, I turn it over in my head a lot. I practice different versions of those critical opening sentences. I play it out like a fantasy just to see if there’s a possible flow, even if the final version is different. Basically, I try to turn it into something that just needs to be written, that just needs to get out. But again—this can lead to overthinking and frustration.

The best way I can describe writing for me is that, when it goes well, I find a rhythm, or enter into a zone, where I can describe the images in my head in a way that’s both accurate and pleasant to read. But entering that zone or finding that rhythm is like jumping into a game of jump rope. If you don’t do it right, you’re just going to trip over your feet and get tangled in the rope. But if you do it correctly, it’s fun and exhilarating and you can keep jumping for a long time. Sometimes it takes me some false starts to jump in. And recently I’ve been having days where I just can’t at all, where I tangle the rope up so much I can’t unknot it. Those are the days I just have the same sentences repeating over and over in my head, sounding wrong, and I can’t do anything about it. On the other hand, I write in much longer sprints than I did a couple years ago. I used to only write partial scenes, maybe a few hundred words. Now I can write whole scenes without stopping, and on a few occasions, I’ve written multiple scenes or even whole stories without stopping. So in other words, when it works,  it really works. But it doesn’t always, and there’s not a lot of in between.

*

Day 50 What fic/story made you?

Um… honestly I’ve been writing, in general and fic specifically, for such a long time that I didn’t have a ‘maybe I can do this’ moment. I mean one problem I’ve never had is thinking I can’t do this. I had positive reinforcement for my school and academic writing, and for a long time my fictional stories were just for me, and I knew what I liked. Even just thinking about my fic writing… I’ve been posting fic online since 2006, and I’ve been in multiple fandoms. I don’t really have much connection to a lot of those early stories anymore. They feel like they were written by someone else, a little. I’ve also moved on from most of the fandoms I wrote for in my early fic days so I don’t feel like I can really judge them anymore.

That said… there is kinda an obvious answer for my Star Trek fic lol. I also have favorite stories, and stories that stick out even years after I wrote them, in all (or at least most) of the fandoms I’ve been in. But I’m not sure if that’s the same.

Also, I had two teachers who were really encouraging of me and who I still think about often. One was my seventh grade English teacher, who had us do a lot of writing exercises of various types, both large and small, including keeping writing journals we wrote in every day at the start of class. He once told my mom that I wrote well, not for a seventh grader, but in general, and to be honest I still think of that with some regularity and take a lot of pride and comfort in it. The other was my creative writing professor in college. I don’t think I did my best work for that class, but she was very encouraging and seemed to like what I did. At the end of the semester, as I was preparing my portfolio, she told me that if I didn’t want to do much editing, I didn’t have to, because my unedited work would stand on its own. Again, especially considering all the problems that I saw with my writing for that class even then, I really took that comment to heart. When I’m feeling very self-critical, I remind myself that even my raw scribblings have, perhaps, something to them, and it helps ease the excessive and unwarranted pressure I put on myself. These aren’t really stories about specific writing pieces that ‘made’ me but I do think they speak to that ‘maybe I can do this’ feeling.

*

Day 51: Do you use tools for plotting and what are they?

So, generally, no. Sometimes I’ll look at various writing/plotting/organizational tools as a method of distraction, but my actual process is very simple. I use plain old notebooks and pens, and word documents on my computer, to plan all my fics, from the one-shots to the multi-chapters. I start by writing down general thoughts and brainstorming, then I build a scene list and/or outline, and then, if necessary, I separate the scenes lists into chapters. Sometimes I break down the scenes even more, if I have additional ideas I don’t wan to forget or if I know I need to hit certain points in a specific scene. The process varies a little bit from project to project, but that’s basically all I do.

I did use Evernote to plan the (still unwritten….) Ark AU. I don’t know if that was the best program choice or if something else exists that would have more precisely met my needs. But that’s what I used and that’s how it is. It’s a little annoying that every time I open it, it’s been updated, and the interface looks totally different and I have to relearn where everything is. But the tagging system has worked decently to allow me to see the big picture of this complex, multi-strand, multi-character, multi-ship disaster epic of a story. I struggled to plot it for a long time because I didn’t know how to balance all of the different parts. In Evernote, I made one ‘note’ for each character, and one for each scene (in addition to miscellaneous notes about sub plots, relationships, questions, etc.). Then I tagged each of them, including tagging the scenes by chapter. So now I can look at a list of all the characters, or all the scenes, or all of the scenes in chapter 8, or whatever, but I can also look at just one particular note at a time, and not be distracted by anything else. That said, I do also have one note that is just a total scene list for the whole fic, which is pretty reminiscent of my usual outlining process.

So… somehow this helped me plot (tentatively) the whole thing, but as I’ve written almost none of it—I finished outlining this in February 2020 so in my defense… I think you can see why it stalled—I’m not yet sure if it was a successful experiment in a ‘plotting tool.’

*

Day 60: How do you start your chapters? Do you start with dialogue? Why or why not?

While I am definitely against prescriptive “writing rues” generally, as my own personal rule, I try not to start with dialogue unless I have a very good reason.

To be quite honest, I think it’s lazy. I do think that dialogue openings can be used well, if the writer acknowledges that they are intensely stylistic and, from a reader’s perspective, quite difficult. Even within fanfiction, where a line of dialogue (especially if accompanied by a dialogue tag or swiftly followed by a reference to the speaker) gives a lot more information to the reader than in original fiction, opening with dialogue still shoves the reader directly into the deep end of the scene, with very little to orient her. WHERE is the speaker? WHO is being addressed in the dialogue? WHAT is the context of the conversation? Who ELSE might be present in the scene?

There are reasons you might want to throw the reader in the aforementioned deep-end. Maybe it’s an in media res situation and you want to emphasize the overwhelming nature of the action—starting a scene with “Get down!” for example. Or maybe the overall mood is one of disorientation or floating or uncertainty, and you want to create the same effect in the reader.

But I think if you’re starting a scene with dialogue because that’s the first thing that comes to mind for you—the person who conveniently already has the setting, character list, and even future plot already in mind—and it’s just simplest and easiest to start that way, you’re doing a disservice to the reader.

For example, I actually am planning to start the next chapter of the Sleeping Beauty AU with dialogue. My POV character is in a room with multiple other characters, and she’s examining something meaningful to her and not fully listening to the conversation around her. So I want the dialogue to float around in the background, to feel unmoored, and to stand in contrast to the very precise, detailed thoughts and memories that she’s experiencing, which are grounded in physical sensations like touch.

I haven’t quite gotten it to work yet, though, in part because opening with dialogue and doing it well is, in my opinion, quite hard. The difficulty lies in alleviating the challenges the reader is experiencing and making the text fluid and easy to picture. You need to get all of that scene-setting information—the who, what, when, where, and why—in very quickly, but without being jarring. In this scene in particular, I have multiple characters, all in a comparatively unusual location, and I need to establish where they are, who exactly is there, how they’ve come to meet my POV character (which happens ‘off screen’ between the end of Ch5 and the beginning of Ch6), all on top of the character’s thoughts and feelings.

I know all of this very well. To picture the scene in my own head takes only a moment. I just think about it and I see all seven of the characters, where they’re sitting, how they’re positioned, what their facial expressions are, and I also know roughly what each of them is thinking and feeling. To describe all of this in words would take several sentences. Do I put all those sentences on the front end? Do I weave them in among other description and dialogue? Is all of it even necessary—maybe we don’t need to know who’s sitting in what order on the couch, for example.

I’ve gone over a couple of different ways to do this in my head, and I’m sure it is possible, but I’m struggling to get it all down in a coherent way. (Admittedly, I’ve only made one solid attempt. As I was describing above, I’m probably going to jump in with several false starts, and then it will suddenly click.)

My initial attempt to set up the scene relied heavily on dialogue, but when I read it over, what sounded snappy and interesting in my head just fell completely flat—because it lacked context and thus, any meaning. I think the gulf between how dialogue openings feel to the writer and how they feel to the reader is large. To the writer, they feel easy and natural. To the reader, they can feel forced and, contrary to the writer’s intention, serve as an additional reminder that this is a constructed narrative rather than an immersive experience—the opposite of natural. In other words, as I said, they’re a highly stylized form of writing.

To illustrate, this was my first try at the Chapter 6 intro:

"I still can't believe it," a lightly awed voice says from somewhere behind Clarke. "The Princess of Alpha Station really used to live in our quarters.”

She pictures Miller, sunk into the couch cushions, slowly shaking his head, the expression on his face equal parts satisfied and amused.

"Really? That's what you think is the oddest part of all this?"

"Yeah, Bry, I do. Would you prefer I gloat? About being right this whole time? Who says she's just a legend now?"

My current idea is to still start with dialogue, but to move back into a significant amount of description pretty immediately afterward, and only then add more dialogue. Even this is a little hazy, since I haven’t thought much about this fic in a while. But I do think it’s quite clear this won’t work.

As for how I DO start chapters/scenes/stories… I like to start with a strong image that sets the scene and mood of the story, and hopefully leaves the reader wanting to know more. Here are some examples of story openings I’ve written recently, which I like a lot:

When Bellamy is angered, deafening bouts of thunder shake the heavens.

The cawing of the crows—high, sharp, angry shots of sound. The buzzing of the telephone wires.

Marcus Kane's body shows up again in June, skeletal and rotting, six months after his disappearance at the turn of the year.

The sky has turned a bruised yellow, like the inside of a plum, by the time Bellamy starts seeing the robots in the fields.

At noon on the third-to-last day before Christmas, Murphy leaves the cafe, with a single peppermint mocha and a small paper bag, and heads right, walking parallel to the ocean.

The last one doesn’t seem as interesting but consider: you get the who, what, when, and where, the mystery of the paper bag and where he might be going, and also the immediate understanding that this is probably going to be a Fluffy Beach Christmas story—which is correct, that’s exactly what it is.

I’m not saying that I’m always creative or unique. I often start stories off with descriptions of the weather. And I have committed the ~~cardinal sin~~ of starting with a character waking up, heaven forbid. I don’t have any hard and fast rules for myself other than that I try to avoid dialogue, or at least, be careful about its use (another example: I use dialogue to start off Mad Women—but it reads like narration, until it’s rudely interrupted, a sort of in-joke/reference/twist). I try to match the mood of the story and, as I said, include something that will create a question for the reader, some version of why, that the rest of the story will answer.

*

Day 61: Do you describe the weather? Try changing a scene you wrote by adding weather effects.

After writing a book for the last question, here’s an easy one! Yes, I describe the weather. A lot. Often. In detail.

(Though if we’re talking about the Sleeping Beauty AU as my “current wip,” I actually don’t do much weather describing there, because 4 of the 6 chapters take place in a location with no weather.)

 *

Day 62: What is your favorite thing to write about?

Honestly I like to write about people being dramatic about their emotions. That’s what I’ve discovered while writing my surprisingly self-indulgent Troped fic: I want to describe people acting as if Everything was the Most Ever. It’s fun. Part of this is getting into the usual romantic tropes—longing, pining, exaggerated touches and glances and the like—but why stop at romance when you also have stuff like The Weather and Random Feelings to contemplate?

I also like setting scenes that I find soothing, which is part of why I like Seasonal Stories.

 *

Day 63: Are you more of a drabble/flash or a longfic/novel kind of writer?

I’m in the middle. I mostly write one-shots, and I’ve noticed that a lot of them fall in the 4-6k range. Long one-shots can get all the way to 10-12k but I feel like most of those are, semi-objectively speaking, too long, and would probably have been stronger if they were pruned down to 6k, or, better yet, never made it past 6k in the first place.

I have written some multi-chapters, or, uh, started multi-chapters, but I’m VERY bad at it. The only thing that makes me slightly less bad is being stubborn. Hence the existence of a WIP that I’ve had going for over 10 years now and refuse to call abandoned. Hence this year’s extended angst about the Sleeping Beauty AU, which is only 6 chapters but has taken me literally years to write. I don’t honestly know if I’ve ever finished a multi-chapter WIP, like, properly speaking. I’ve done some short multi-chapters that I wrote as if they were one-shots and then split up for ease of reading or, I dunno, just because. I wrote a Big Bang once, but it’s not very good. Nor very long, if I remember correctly. Generally speaking I probably shouldn’t be allowed to write novels lol—I have a lot of them in my ‘I should write this one day’ idea list—but as it so happens, no one can stop me, so here we are. I definitely have wild fantasies of writing multi-chapters with ease but I’m just a very slow writer and my ideas can’t keep up with my actual-writing. Thus one shots are much easier than multi-chaps, and one-shots on a deadline are much easier than ‘I’ll finish this whenever’ one-shots. One-shots written for events or exchanges also tend to be shorter (and, imo, better) because of the deadlines they’re written on, and are thus more likely to hit that sweet 4-6k spot than stories where I’m allowed to ramble at will.

All that said, I ALSO write a good number of drabbles/writing exercises. I used to write them more often than I do now, but still over the last five years I’ve produced 110,000+ words in free-standing scenes so like… that’s also a thing I guess.

[cosmiceverafter]

Coffee & Cosmic Contemplation

Summary:  5 Times Alex woke Michael up + the one time Michael did instead. 

A/N: My first time writing a Five Things fic—of course, it had to be with Malex and needed to be fluffy. I love these two fools with my whole heart. Give us all of the soft moments! Enjoy! 

1. 

"Get up sleepy head." 

Michael groans yet smirks into the pillow from the sound of his boyfriend. His nose wrinkles up, "Do I smell bacon?"

Alex kisses his nose and ruffles his curls, "You sure do! Now up and at 'em." He’s humming the new song he has been working on; Michael can’t help but feel admiration for the guy. Alex is so talented. 

It doesn’t stop Michael from teasing him, though, “You’re so peppy in the mornin’.” 

“Well, it’s a beautiful day! What’s there not to like?”

“Uh, I can give you a list of reasons.” Living with his man definitely had its perks, but Michael was not nor ever would be, a morning person. "How about you just come back to bed instead, darlin'?"

"And burn the bacon I worked so hard on?"

Michael smiles slowly and winks, "I'd make it worth your while." 

Alex chuckles, "You always do." But to Michael's dismay, he's not lying down next to him in bed; he's going towards the kitchen, "Come on, before it gets cold."

He groans, why is Alex so excited about the food—that's usually his job, but Michael can't help but smile as he follows along. 

As he walks in, his feet freeze on the wooden cabin floor. 

Placed on their small circle table are eggs, bacon, toast, and orange juice. Fresh flowers from the meadow are in a vase at the center.

"Alex...this is beautiful. What's the special occasion?" 

"I love you," Alex replies, as he pulls out a chair, "is that not reason enough?"

It was all the reasons.  

***

2. 

"Wake up, wake up!" 

Michael groans into the pillow as Alex opens up the blinds. "Ten more minutes."

"No way, Guerin," Alex responds cheerfully. "Today is your first day of college!" 

"Remind me again why I agreed to this?"

Alex sits on the side of their bed and leans over to kiss his cheek, "Because you have a chance to do this and take some agricultural engineering classes. It’s the path you’ve always talked about." 

"How about next year?"

"Nope," Alex says, getting up to get Michael’s clothes ready for the day. "You've been going on about this for months, and I'm so happy for you.” He pauses. “Remember, some of us are going to the diner tonight to celebrate you." 

Michael props himself up at that, as he raises an eyebrow, "Like who? And why am I just hearing about this?"

"It's all Isobel's doing; she even invited Sanders." Alex smiles at him and holds up an outfit with a wink, “I thought you wouldn’t do well with the surprise.”

“You guessed right,” he says as he nods towards the plaid shirt with the brown belt. While he doesn’t love a lot of attention, Michael can’t help but smile; Sanders is practically family to him, and the fact that the others care about his life so much...well, it means a lot.

With a dramatic whine, Michael finally gets up to get ready. He takes the cup of coffee Alex is offering. 

"Can I drive you?" Alex asks with a beautiful smile as he holds his car keys up. "I just want to share this moment with you."  

"Baby," Michael says, putting his arms around Alex, "you know I'll go anywhere with you."

Their lips touch briefly. 

As they leave the cabin, Michael can’t help but feel excited about this new adventure. 

***

3. 

"Sweetheart, you're burning up." Michael hears Alex's soft voice, which breaks through his aches. 

"Ugh..." he replies, feeling miserable. 

Alex places a wet rag onto his forehead and says, "Open up."

"As much as I would love to comply with that request, I'm feeling a bit off today, baby."

Alex laughs and playfully nudges him, "Not for that, as hard as it is to resist.” He holds a thermometer up, “I need to take your temperature. Your sweat is all over the sheets."

"And not in a good way, I assume," Michael moans, opening his mouth. 

As the thermometer calculates his fate for the next few days, Alex runs his fingers through his curls. It's the best kind of comfort. Alex always seems to know what he needs, and when he needs it. 

"Damn, that's a high fever." Alex shows him the numbers, and Michael groans. "I'm taking the day off today. I'll see to it that you're feeling better in no time." 

“What if I’m contagious?

Alex shrugs, “So be it. I’ve made up my mind; I’m taking care of you.” 

"You're too good to me."

"I love you, too," Alex replies, "Now do me a favor and don't be a difficult patient for me." 

“Who me?”

Alex gives him a look, “Yes, you.” 

Michael crosses his heart, hoping not to die. 

***

4. 

"Michael...Michael!"

"What?" Michael wakes, startled as he sits up in bed. 

The sun has barely come out, but the darkness still surrounds the bedroom. 

"I heard something."

"It's probably a damn animal," Michael groans, as he rubs his eyes. "The cabin is in the middle of nowhere, babe." 

"It's in the house!" Alex whispers.  

"Shit!" Michael gets up, with his arm stretched out. He vowed a long time ago to protect the man he loves and takes comfort in knowing Alex will always do the same. 

Alex is right next to him, reaching for his gun on the nightstand. 

They walk carefully down the hallway, and Michael can hear the banging in the kitchen. 

When they wrap around the corner, trash is all over the floor, black soot from the fireplace has made tracks, and feathers fly around from the couch pillows. 

"What the—"

That's when they see it. A big raccoon halfway stuffed into the trashcan. 

"Son of a bitch!" Michael calls out. The raccoon pops its masked face out and looks startled. 

Alex runs over to open the front door, and Michael gives it a soft nudge with his powers. 

"Yea, get!" He exclaims as the furry animal runs out of the cabin, then looks over at Alex. "I said it was an animal, didn't I?"

Alex sighs, looking at the mess everywhere, "Do you think we should keep him?"

Michael ignores that statement and starts cleaning up with his powers, too lazy to put in the effort. 

Damn, the great outdoors. 

***

5. 

Michael is in a deep sleep when he feels Alex’s fingers on his chest. He opens one eye and sees his love smiling down at him. 

“You’re awake,” Alex says softly, looking beautiful in the morning light. 

“I blame your fingers,” he yawns. 

“Really?”

Michael shakes his head, “Yup.” He grabs Alex’s hand and kissed the back of it, then his palm, before kissing each finger. “How dare you.”

“I know, what can I say...I’m insatiable for my alien.”

He smiles at that and feels all the love right back at his human, “I don’t blame you, babe. This alien is pretty damn irresistible.” 

“I won’t argue with that, especially with that tousled bedhead of yours,” Alex agrees with a smirk. He licks his bottom lip, “You know what those curls do to me.”

“I do.” Michael turns to face boyfriend, “Well, now that you woke me up, how about you get over here and tousle them up some more?”

Alex replies by straddling Michael and leans down to press his lips onto his own. He would never grow tired of this. Moving in with Alex had been the best decision of his life. “Gladly.” 

As he pulls Alex down to him even closer by his dog tag necklace, Michael plans ahead of time to stay horizontal for the rest of the morning.

***

+1

There are many beautiful things here on earth, but the most beautiful of all is Alex Manes. 

Michael wakes up before Alex for once, and he cannot help but take in every inch—every detail of his love. 

From the messy hair to the curve of his nose, to those full lips, parted slightly. The morning sun is hitting his features just right, and it takes Michael’s breath away. Not for the first time. 

He’s so in love with this man and so grateful for these quiet moments together; they’re everything to him. Alex is everything to him, and Michael wants this forever. 

He leans over and presses a kiss to his sleeping beauty. 

Alex moans softly but smiles in his sleep. 

“Wake up, baby,” Michael says gently, kissing him on the cheek, the forehead, his nose. 

Alex’s eyes flutter open, and he gazes up at Michael. As Michael snuggles closer, he notices how warm and soft his love is. 

“Good morning.”

Their hands intertwine as Michael stays propped up on his elbow as he looks down at Alex. 

Alex squeezes his hand, “Morning.” He looks over towards the clock, “Damn, I guess I was tired.” 

“Every once in a while, it’s okay, babe,” Michael replies. “You must’ve needed it.”

Smiling, Alex strokes Michael’s face, “The fact that you’re awake before me is baffling.” 

Michael shrugs, “Gave me a chance to watch you sleep, for once.” 

“Did you enjoy that?”

“Always,” Michael answers, leaning down to press another kiss to those soft full lips. “Also, it got me thinking.”

“Hmm?” Alex says, momentarily lost within the kiss. “About what?”

“You...us.” 

“And what did you come up with during that realization?”

Michael feels his heart almost burst as he raises Alex’s left hand to his lips, “That I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” 

Alex’s beautiful eyes go wide, and he sits up. “Are you saying…?”

He nods, “Yes, I’m saying that I want to marry you, Alex Manes. That’s what I’ve always wanted.” Michael takes a deep breath, “When I look towards my future, you’re always there, standing by my side.” 

His love has tears forming in his eyes, “That’s what I see, too.” Michael’s heart skips a beat.

“So what do you say, Alex? Will you be my husband?”

“Yes, forever and always, yes!” They hug and kiss, share a few tears. All the pain from their past was worth it for this moment. Finally, Alex pulls away, “I have a confession, though.” 

“Uh, oh.”

“No, no,” Alex laughs. He leans over to his nightstand and pulls out a black box, then hands it over. 

Michael looks up at him and back at the box. “Is that…?”

“Just open it.” Inside is a metallic band—engraved with their first initials. “I was going to propose to you tonight. But I guess you beat me to it.” 

Of course, he was. The two of them were so connected that they must have sensed it was the right time. “It’s so beautiful. I love you, Alex Manes.”

“And I love you, Michael Guerin.”

They kiss, and Michael feels like he’s on top of the entire world. He smiles, knowing that this man beside him is why he is here on earth. 

Cheers to cosmic fate.

[forever--darling]

the frat boy’s boxers - s.m.

college frat au

warnings: 5.7k words of new beginnings, first day jitters, and the meeting of the roommate

prologue

It was late, dark, and the sun was no longer looming over campus. Your pulse quickened and your palms were dripping in sweat as you stared up at the three story house. The window was left cracked open and you watched as the breeze swayed the white curtains from side to side. This was insane and beyond anything you had ever done but you knew it was unavoidable. If you wanted to get into Alpha Delta Pi, it had to be done. 

You could feel the lingering eyes of the sorority girls as they crouched behind a line of bushes and internally cursed. Emily had to set up a car wash by herself, Maggie had to teepee another sorority house, and those both sounded better than this; standing in front of frat boy central, forced to steal sophomore and hockey player Shawn Mendes’ boxers.

2 weeks ago

As you drove down the winding road, you couldn’t help but come to a stop in front of the entrance. The large stone sign stood proudly for all to see as they drove by and into the start of the next chapter of their lives. Tan bricks and copper letters stuck out from the sign marked the beginning of everything. In your packed black Volkswagen golf, you twisted your neck down as you stared out the window towards the sign. You blinked at it, hardly believing it was real and with a small uneven breath, you pushed your foot back on the gas and surged forward. Within seconds, you were back driving on the road, hands tightly around the steering wheel as your eyes scanned the newfound area.

Two years ago, no one ever expected that you would venture more than a few miles away from your house. That you would settle into the local university because that’s what your parents wanted. Or more specifically what your mom wanted. No one ever thought after what happened in the winter of 2016, you would have left your hometown in exchange for another state entirely. It was two years of being locked away in your house with little access to anywhere except school or your bedroom, and you had quickly gotten sick of its light yellow walls.

Your junior and senior year were spent bent over your homework and college prepping. You were doing anything to get you as far away from that place you used to call home. You needed to get away for a while, from your overprotective and over loving parents and your twenty-four-year old sister who had moved back home. 

You used to love high school. With so many friends and guys wanting your attention, it was a fun two years then somehow the other two went down the drain by the two people who procreated you. Junior and senior you worked your ass off and above all else, obeyed your parents and clearly it paid off when you finished third in your class. You obeyed your parents, so it came much of a surprise when you told your family that instead of the local university that only stood ten minutes away, you would be attending the University of Washington. 

It came to quite a shock, not only was the college in another state but on the other side of the country. Thousands of miles away from the only place you had ever known. It became even worse when you had packed up your car and refused to let your parents drive you. They were so shocked and so heartbroken that they barely were able to protest when you gave them a faint goodbye, long bone crushing hugs, and pulled out of the driveway.

Maybe, they were so certain that you relied on them and that town so much that you would never leave their sides. Or maybe they felt like they didn’t need a large goodbye and that you would be back in their arms within months of being away. That the thought of being alone in a foreign place would send your anxiety through the roof and ultimately drive you back home after what happened when you were just sixteen. 

You had thought about the incident plenty of times. It was what changed your family and ultimately broke it. It was that very terrifying memory that drove the scary thoughts that you would be back in that small town in records time. And throughout the whole drive that took days to get to your destination, the reality hadn’t set in until you saw that sign. It was then as you stared at the letters, that you knew that if you didn’t want to run then, you weren’t going to want to run back home maybe ever. 

Some time between graduation and driving onto campus, things changed in you. You felt like you when you were sixteen again except this time more free. Changing that obedient student who stayed in on the weekends to study for tests weeks in advance, to someone who wanted to go out and do all of the things she missed out on. She became someone that wanted to be the one who went out with friends and got drunk at parties on the weekends. 

She wanted to be the girl that went on dates with random college guys on campus. She wanted to sleep with a boy and then kick him out of her dorm room the next morning. Somewhere between being eighteen to nineteen, the old you resurfaced. Like your parents weren’t there, trying to hide the world from you anymore. You were now a young adult who was capable of taking care of herself. In fact you were a college student who had no intentions of returning home to just sit back in that sad house and stare at those walls all day, separating you from the world that you had yet to know anything about. 

Now here you were no longer dressed in those baggy grey sweatpants and holey oversized hoodies, face bare, with your hair pulled out of your face. Instead, hair flowing freely down your back, makeup gracing across your features as you wore a pair of tight fitted blue jeans with a white long sleeve t-shirt and a red flannel. Bunny slippers left lazily behind in the closet that was filled with your brother’s t-shirts and cozy socks. In their place was a pair of white converse laced tightly against your feet providing comfort and style. This was who you were at the moment and you couldn’t wait to go and have some fun. 

As you were pulling into a parking lot near the hall that supposedly housed your dorm, you had caught a glimpse out of your window at the quad. A vast green area filled with small paths and large cherry blossom trees. They scattered the lawn providing shade and comfort away from the raging halls and campus parties. There was a part of you that wanted to just pull the car over and run to get a better look at the area, but knew that you had other things to do like eat and unpack. Maybe sleep. You had been in this car for far too long and now that you were here, there would be plenty of time to explore later. 

Pulling the car into an empty parking spot, you turned it off and took the keys from the ignition, stuffing them into the pocket of your jeans. You opened the door and climbed out, stretching your arms over your head as you did so. Looking around, you could only see a few students hugging their parents goodbye all having tears in their eyes or traveling down their faces. You knew if you had successfully found the main hall to ask someone about where the keys to your dorm and schedule were that you would no doubt see the same thing but to a higher level. 

You could have easily stopped and asked the many students that had been walking around the campus, especially the ones that were dressed in purple school tee shirts, bright smiles pulled across their faces about where to go. But for some unknown reason, you kept driving towards Parker Hall, thinking that your roommate was probably already settled into your sharing room and could just escort you to get your keys and your schedule. It was the best idea you had at the time since you were a freshman and didn’t know where anything was. Also considering, you were there without your parents, your roommate was the only option you thought you had at the moment. 

You convinced yourself so much that you wandered into the building and up the stairs already gaining a sniff of the musty hallways that were coated in white paint. Your eyes scanned the hall that seemed to be empty with doors closed and already decorated with pictures and names of the girls that resided with them. Suddenly at the sound of a small hiss, your eyes directed towards the end of the hall and felt relieved at the sight of one door open on the end where a blonde girl was struggling to pull in a large mattress. Were we supposed to bring our own mattresses? You thought to yourself as you approached the girl trying to wipe off the confused and slightly frustrated look on your face. 

“Need some help?” you asked, your voice gaining the attention of the girl. 

Her head lifted revealing her smooth pale skin and large green doe eyes. Her blonde hair was pulled into a tight ponytail at the top of her head, curling at the end. She was around the same height as you dressed in a pastel pink sweater with a white collar and a pair of jeans to go with her squeaky clean white sneakers. Realizing you were talking to her, she nodded with a soft smile as you proceeded forward and grabbed the other end of the mattress. You began to push as she pulled, already feeling the mattress slowly shift forward through the door. 

“Were we supposed to bring our own mattresses or something?” you asked, glancing at the stainless plush padding in your hand as your grip on the corner tightened, feeling your nails sink into it. 

“No,” the girl replied, yanking at the mattress as her cheeks puffed out in discontent, “I just prefer it more than the ones they provide.” 

“So, is there a reason you are trying to pull it into your room by yourself then?” 

“Oh, yeah well I told my mom that I could handle it so she left and as soon as my roommate laid eyes on it she stormed out of the room,” she explained as the mattress moved forward about halfway into the room. “I’m Emily, by the way. Emily Willard.” 

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you chuckled at her attempts to make introductions now of all times. 

After that, silence consumed the both of you besides the casual grunt or hiss as your muscles burned from pushing and lifting at the mattress. Minutes later, you had managed to get it all the way into the small quaint room and nestled into the wooden bed-frame that sat up against the wall of the room. It was opposite of the other bed that was already made and full of decorative pillows. You let out a loud sigh after the mattress fell into its place onto the frame and ran your fingers through your hair, feeling the small beads of sweat that had gathered at your hairline. 

“Thank you,” Emily smiled while bending over and holding onto her knees. 

“Yeah, no problem,” you laughed, smiling back at the blonde. 

As another minute passed, she finally stood back up seeming to have recovered from the lifting. She began to put a few boxes onto the mattress as she made conversation, “So have you gotten moved in yet?” 

“Actually, no.” you admitted, causing her movements to stop and look over her shoulder towards you, “I was wondering if you knew which room was Maggie… Harting’s. I’m her roommate.” 

“Oh, yeah. I met her. Dressed in leather. Total badass. She’s actually just across the hall, met her when my mom and I were unloading boxes,” Emily said, gesturing towards the hallway. 

“Cool. Thanks.” the words were short as your attention now was drawn to the hallway and your new roommate that you had yet to meet but now were intrigued by. 

“Not have your keys yet?” Emily’s voice perked up causing you to turn back towards her. 

You shook your head as your hand found its way into your jean pocket fiddling with the material on the inside, “No, I don’t know where to get them. Just thought it would be easier to find the roommate and ask her instead of question one of the purple greeters.” 

Emily laughed as you referred to the upperclassmen that were sprawled across campus ready to help and answer any questions to settle in the freshman or new students. “I completely understand. Well, if your roommate turns out to be anything like mine. Feel free to wander across the hall and I’ll be more than happy to show you where to go or help you move in.” 

“Thanks, that sounds great. I’m sure I’ll see you around,” you waved, stepping out into the hallway with a small smile on your lips. 

“Yeah, of course,” she replied reciprocating the wave before her door slowly clicked shut, leaving her to unpack and settle into the small room. 

You took a deep breath as you walked over towards the door that held where you supposedly were going to spend the next, however, months of your life with a stranger as your roommate. Staring at the empty wooden door, one that wasn’t covered in pictures or had a name written across a white board, you lifted your hand and knocked softly. Your heart was beating loudly in the base of your chest at the sound of footsteps on the other side of the door. Before you could even think it was pulled open quickly and you were met with exactly what Emily had described.

 Badass dressed in leather. A girl who was a few inches shorter than you stood on the other side of the door with dark black hair that had pink ends pulled into a messy bun at the top of her head. She had olive skin and dark brown eyes that supported a black liner drawn with a wing. With black studded earrings that matched the black choker around her neck, she was wearing ripped jeans and a leather jacket that hung over the blue tank top she wore underneath. As your gaze fell towards the ground, they fell on a pair of chunky black boots that had safety pins sticking out of the shoes’ flaps. Slowly, as your eyes lifted back up towards her face, you were met with a smirk etched across her mouth, the corners of her lips lifting ever so slightly. 

“You must be Y/N Y/L/N. I was beginning to think you were dead or lost or not going to show up at all.”

You smiled sheepishly at how she was right with one simple glance at you, “Yeah and you must be Maggie.” 

“You bet your ass I am,” she grinned, throwing the door open to reveal her -- well your room to you. “So what did you lose your key already?” 

You stepped in slowly and shook your head as she closed the door behind you. Scanning the room, you took in the small space. On either side of the room, there were two twin size beds pushed up against the walls, one of which was still left bare. In between the two beds were two nightstands that sat under the only window. Just below each of the beds there were two desks sat up at the wall, yours being the one that sat really close to the door. 

Over towards the bed that Maggie had obviously claimed was two closets one that was probably already filled with her black leather and jeans. With just being in Emily’s room, it looked almost identical to hers except it was in the opposite direction, but you were too focused on trying to drag a mattress through her front door to actually take the time to really look at it. The room still looked not all the way settled though Maggie’s black bedspread was wrinkled and there were clothes thrown over the chair at her desk. She was already settled but with your side still untouched and completely bare, the room overall looked incomplete. 

Realizing that you had yet to answer Maggie’s question, you turned on your heels to see her leaning up against the door looking at you with a raised eyebrow. “Oh, no. I haven’t gone to get them yet. I was hoping you would show me where I’m supposed to get them and my schedule if you’re not busy.” 

She snorted out a small laugh as she pushed herself up and off the door, “Please, I’ve been here since this morning practically waiting for you to get here so I’d be more than welcome to escort you to your keys.” 

With that, she pulled open the door and strode out in the hallway giving you a view of the shave at the back of her head that was right above her neck. You stared at it for a second before you followed, closing the door behind you. From there you walked alongside her down the stairs and out of Parker Hall. She led you past the parking lot where your car sat, abandoned, and full of your shit towards who knows where. 

For the next seven minutes, Maggie walked you down towards the main hall passed the groups of settling students and towering pine trees. All while making conversation of her home. She lived around an hour and a half away with her parents, younger sister, and Nana. Her dad was a huge business man and had a lot of money which was partly the reason she was able to get into this college. Not once had she seemed bothered by her father’s money and was rather comfortable explaining to you what her relationship was like with him and back at home. She also talked about what high school was like and how she had broken off things with her hot boyfriend of four years that drove a motorcycle. 

Your favorite part was when she talked about her old friends and though people thought that they were bad news because they wore leather, they really were just hilarious outcasts that pulled pranks on each other all day. Just as you gained sight of the main hall that was lined with college students and parents all signing in and getting their own keys and schedules, you were pulled aside by Maggie’s arm gripping your elbow. 

“What?” you asked, eyeing her raised eyebrows and curious smile. 

You may have not picked up on it because you were pulled into her stories of home but she had easily noticed that you hadn’t said anything about yourself or your family. “You haven’t said anything about what it’s like where you’re from. Why aren’t your parents here dropping you off?” 

Sighing at the question, only made her raise her eyebrows higher and you knew that because you would be living with her for the school year that you wouldn’t be able to keep everything from her forever. “It’s a long story. Simple answer, I didn’t want them to so instead I just packed up my car and drove here myself.” 

You went to turn back towards the line but Maggie’s hand refused to fall from your arm and instead tightened causing you to look back at her, getting a little annoyed. “Wait, where are you from?” 

Taking a deep breath, you muttered the name of the small town and watched as no recognition passed over her face but only scrunched up further into confusion. “Where’s that?” she asked. 

“It’s across the country. Twenty-six hours across the country,” you replied, rolling your eyes lightly as hers widened, causing her brown orbs to broaden and her mouth to fall open. “Look I’ll explain as soon as we get my keys and schedule okay?” 

Her confusion instantly fell away and in its place was pure determination. She smirked and her head tilted to the side as a glint filled her eyes. Her hand that had still yet to fall from your arm yanked as she turned around and began to drag you up towards the tables that sat in front of the main hall. She pulled you behind her as she passed fellow new students and parents resulting in some to gasp or call out the fact that you were cutting. 

As you made it to the front, Maggie pushed aside a tall raven haired boy who was in the middle of asking the girl sitting at the table something, who was dressed in the same purple shirt you had seen on many people by now. He hissed as he stood off to the side feeling his mother placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. He glared daggers towards Maggie and your eyes widened as his arm reached out to grab a hold of her leather jacket. 

“Hey, don’t you know it’s rude to cut. We all want to get settled in as much as you do, alright,” he hissed again, his chest rising up and down as he spat the words. 

Maggie finally turned to look at him, seeming unbothered by his killing glare so much that she sent a smug grin instead. “Oh, put a sock in it. It’s not like we’re going to stand around asking questions to stall having to say goodbye to mommy and daddy. We just need our keys and schedules then we’ll be on our way.” 

You could hear the gasp came from the boy’s mother at his side, causing his face to swell and turn red in anger but instead of stepping forward to spit more insults at your roommate, he looked away from her and began to tap his foot impatiently on the concrete ground. Maggie rolled her eyes at his childish antics before turning back towards the upperclassman that stood silent watching the scene play out. She was tall with straight honey colored hair and pale skin, her award-winning smile now vanished. Though looking like she was about to protest, she was silenced by Maggie’s piercing glare.

“Okay, we’re here to get keys and a schedule,” she said calmly, leaning down with her hands grabbing at the end of the table. 

“What hall?” the girl asked, her voice soft, still refusing to look up. 

Maggie bit onto her bottom lip as her index finger began to scrape against the table, “Parker Hall, Y/N Y/L/N.” 

Silently the upperclassman began to push through the files sat on the table and after about a minute or so pulled out a cream colored folder along with a key hung around a dark purple spiral wrist key chain. Holding out the folder and wrist band, Maggie plucked it from her hands and smiled sweetly, “Pleasure doing business with you.” 

She then took a hold of your elbow again and led you away from the table making sure to send a shit eating grin towards the boy and his parents. You were still shocked by the whole thing even as you were walking back towards your hall folder and key in hand. 

You began to thumb through the folder, locating your schedule that had your classes and where they were located but were pulled away from the wristband in your hand. The silver whistle was colliding with the set of keys causing a small clink as you walked. Your eyebrows furrowed on it and as you looked up towards Maggie, who was walking eyes glancing from the sidewalk to her phone, you spoke up to ask. 

“What’s with the whistle?” you asked, causing Maggie to look over towards you and the wristband in your hand. 

“U.W. rape whistle.”

“What?” you asked, surprised by the answer but realizing that it could have made sense with that it was a much bigger campus smacked in the middle of a city.

She looked back over towards you and perked up before opening her mouth for a high pitch voice to replace her own. “Blow it only if it’s actually happening.” 

You quickly caught on that she was imitating the upperclassmen or whoever clearly gave her the set of her keys and schedule. Chuckling, you shake your head and move the spiral wristband around your wrist putting the whistle aside from your thoughts. You didn’t talk again until you got back to the hall and as Maggie went to head towards the door she stopped upon noticing you walk into a different direction. She followed to finally lay eyes on your Volkswagen golf that was all the way filled from the trunk all the way to the passenger seat with boxes and suitcases. 

“Okay, wow,” she said, shoving her phone back into the pocket of her jeans as she watched you pull open the passenger door and grab a cardboard box. 

“What, didn’t I say that I drove here?” 

“Yeah, but I never expected this,” Maggie shrugged as you grabbed a backpack and swung it on your shoulders while taking another smaller box for her.

“Well, I did drive twenty-six hours and I don’t plan on driving back any time soon,” you admitted, closing the passenger door and heading towards the door of the hall. 

Maggie followed all the way in and up the stairs towards the hall. You stopped in front of your door as you noticed a blonde ponytail in the hall writing on a whiteboard with a pink dry erase marker. At the sound of your steps, she turned a smile instantly falling on her face as she saw it’s you. 

“Hey,” she said, moving away to reveal the door to her room. It was decorated with pink cut out hearts and flowers all surrounding a whiteboard that had ‘Lindsey & Emily’ written across in perfect cursive with the color pink. 

“Hey, nice job on the door!”

“We are so not doing that to our door,” Maggie leaned over to you, mumbling underneath her breath. 

Emily ignored Maggie’s comment, “Thanks, need some help?” 

You nodded, moving to open the door to your room, “Yes, please.” 

Once you unlocked the door, Emily held it open for you as you walked in and dropped the box that happened to be filled with books onto your bed, a sigh leaving your lips as you did. You turned back to the door to see Maggie following and setting the box at the end of the bed just as she a glance towards the blonde in the doorway. “Maggie, you’ve met Emily right? She’s just across the hall.” 

“Yeah we have,” Maggie smiled, sending a short wave, “Hey!”

 Emily smiled as you exited back out of the room and began to head down the stairs towards your car. They both followed you, hot on your heels when Maggie’s voice broke the silence as your vehicle came back into view. “So, can I ask questions now or do you need to wait until Em is out of ear shot?” 

You rolled your eyes playfully as you popped open the trunk and began to look at what had been stuffed in a day or so prior. “You can ask.” 

“What are you asking about?” Emily voiced, curious at her name being brought up by Maggie. 

“Oh, Y/N here lives in a small town twenty-six hours away and drove here by herself without her parents,” Maggie replied looking over towards Emily, who’s eyes had widened into saucers. 

“Maggie!”

“What? I have a feeling that she is going to be around with us for a while. She’s cool so she can probably know.”

You nodded as you picked up some boxes and began to place them on the ground for them to pick up, “Alright fair enough. You can ask two questions, that’s it. Then once everything is unloaded out of the car and into our room, I will allow you to ask more as I unpack. Okay?” 

They both nodded in agreement as they went to pick up the boxes. Maggie being the first to ask a question. “So why didn’t you want your parents to come?” 

Picking up another box full of clothes, you followed them as they turned towards the hall, “It’s complicated but basically I wanted to do this on my own. Prove a point, plus I didn’t want them to have to drive all the way over here and then drive back.” 

“Fair enough,” Maggie said, beginning to climb up the brown dirt covered stairs. 

“One more,” you stated voice sharp, “Better make it good because it will be at least twenty minutes before I answer any more.” 

“Why here?” Emily asked cutting off Maggie before she could get the chance, “I mean I can barely stand that I’m two hours away but twenty-six. Why choose Washington?” 

You were about to walk through the door of your room but stopped in the doorway, looking over your shoulder towards the two girls you had a feeling were going to become close friends of yours. You sighed, your eyes falling to the floor as you spoke, “It’s far away that no one knows who I am and I can get a fresh start, plus it’s so far away that I won’t have to go back.” 

*

After you gave two curt replies to the questions asked, the next twenty minutes unloading the car was spent talking about what the school year was probably going to be like, since they couldn’t ask any follow up questions until after everything was unloaded out of the car and up into your dorm room. You could tell that even though they were enjoying the casual conversation, Maggie and Emily were still well intrigued about your intentions of leaving home and coming here. You knew from just looking at them and hearing their lame jokes about the upperclassmen and the purple shirts, that by the time you were upstairs and in your room they would be jumping you with their questions. 

So much so that the second the door slammed shut behind you, leaving the three of you enclosed in the room filled with unemptied boxes and cases, they were basically screaming. After they calmed down, you stuck to your word and told them basically everything. Well most of it. 

The tragedy in your family and the secret with it, you couldn’t mumble out because they were basically still strangers and this was too important. Instead, you told them of what you were like as a kid and why your parents were so set on the idea of you going to local university or taking online classes. You explained the anxiety that had formed in your stomach as a teenager and why you had grown to be so used to blending in with everyone else. By the time you had said that you were here to start fresh and resign from your spot on the sidelines watching, there were smiles spread across both of their faces. 

The first one to speak was Maggie who had expressed her opinion by sending you a solute and yelling out, “you’re a doer not a watcher.” 

They obviously felt that it must be hard being so far away but admired your efforts to break out of your shell and flourish out in the real world. So much that within the next three hours, you all spent time in the dorm room unpacking and talking about everything about one another desperate to gain any information about the new friends you all had made. 

You were straightening out the grey comforter on your bed and fluffing out the pillows when you heard a gasp come from the other side of the room. You turned at the sound towards Maggie’s bed where she sat criss-cross-applesauce, leaning against the wall with Emily’s legs swung over her lap. Her eyes were wide in excitement as her mouth was left slightly parted showing the smile that had formed. You and Emily shared a glance before looking back towards Maggie. 

“What?” Emily asked leaning up on her elbows as Maggie sent a smirk from her towards you. 

“Oh, no. What is it?” you questioned, already having a feeling that whatever was going to come out of her mouth was bound to be trouble. 

Maggie was practically glowing as she moved from the bed and stood up causing Emily’s legs to fall from the bed in the process. “We are now college students and I say it’s time for us to celebrate.” 

“Celebrate, exactly how?” you asked cautiously as she crossed her arms over her chest and popped out a hip. 

“It’s the first day of everyone being back on campus there is bound to be a party somewhere,” she said, raising an eyebrow. 

That’s when you noticed Emily sit up from the bed raising a hand to interject, “Yeah there’s one at the sorority house. Alpha Delta Pi, I think. Usually their parties are for sororities and fraternities only but my roommate said that because it’s the first official day of everyone being back that it’s open for everyone on campus.” 

“I knew that I liked you for a reason,” Maggie stated proudly, “So what do you say, Y/L/N?” 

“A party?” you asked, getting a nod from her causing her bun to bounce a little, “No, I don’t think so I haven’t even finished unpacking yet.” 

“So, you can do that tomorrow,” Maggie persuaded, moving towards your closet that held half of your clothes so far. She thumbed through it before stopping at one hanger that held an off the shoulder black long sleeve shirt that still had the tag on it, “Besides, didn’t you say you wanted to have fun.” 

At her smooth words and the hanger she plucked from within the rack, you felt your heart flutter with nerves. As your eyes scanned from the smug look on her face towards the shirt, and then to Emily who sat with a raised eyebrow and sweet smile, a smirk fell onto your lips with ease. “Yeah, I guess I did. So where’s this sorority house located?”

a/n: hey! here’s the first party of my new series and sorry if it’s a little boring but I wanted to get introductions and the reader’s backstory out of the way. don’t worry shawn will be in the next part! :)

next part

[snowdice]

Gaps in His Files (Part 11) [Relabeled; Refiled Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan/Patton

Characters:

Main: Logan, Patton

Appear: Remy, Virgil (but only in the epilogue)

Summary:

Logan Berry has learned many things the last 10 years: a lot of math and physics, a bit of humility, and how to be a hero being just a few. Through his education, his experience teaching, and his exploits as the superhero Bluebird, he’s changed in a lot of small and large ways. He has recorded these changes in well-organized documents and files. He’s even had to create two new file designations: a red one for files about his moonlighting at Bluebird, and a light blue one dedicated to his boyfriend, Patton.

When Bluebird is targeted by a memory device and all of those 10 years of progress suddenly disappear, Patton Sanders and Logan’s extensive files are left as his only resource to get those memories back. But what is Patton supposed to do when there are clear gaps in his files? And what does he do when he is one of them?

This is set 25 years before Sometimes Labels Fail though it’s story is completely independent of it and it is not necessary to read that one first.

Notes: Superhero AU, memory loss, past child abuse, past child neglect, unhealthy ideas about ones place in relationships, emotional suppression, self-deprecating thoughts, medical procedures mentioned, very brief unhealthy views of sex

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Logan had not lied to Patton this morning. He was not going to go to the university today, but… he didn’t think he was going to find any answers in this apartment. And he did want answers now. He had always wanted to get his memories back of course, but something a little more urgent had been niggling in the back of his mind since yesterday to the point of a headache.

He’d spent the first hour after Patton left searching around the apartment. The two of them had fallen asleep either on the office floor or in the living room the last few nights while going through Logan’s files in the hopes that those would return his memories. They hadn’t; Logan was beginning to think they wouldn’t. There was something missing from the files that Logan could not determine. The files they were reading were extensive, but heartless: noncontextualized receipts, detached notes, and aloof reports. Logan was all for facts most of the time, but his notes gave little insight into meaning. Perhaps if he got his memories back, he should reevaluate his filing system’s configuration. He knew by now he wasn’t going to find anything within those pages.

So, instead of continuing to read through old receipts, he decided to investigate a room he hadn’t been in yet: the bedroom. The blinds were thick and had been closed tight keeping the room dark enough that it could be night. He’d left them closed and flipped on the light. Like most of the apartment, there weren’t many decorations. There was just a large bed, carefully made that took up most of the large room and a nightstand with only a reading lamp on it. The only thing that seemed out of place was the suit he found in the closet covered in a white plastic bag. When he unwrapped the suit, he found it was not something Logan would ever think to wear. He much preferred plain black suits over the honestly rather gaudy golden one he found inside the plastic cover. He was unsure why he’d apparently purchased such a thing especially since he seemed to have a perfectly functional black one in the closet too.

Then he’d laid in the bed that he knew he must have slept in every night for years judging by the way the right side molded to his body. The sheets had smelled weird somehow, though not as though they’d been spoiled, and he’d found himself rolling toward the other side, his hand finding a pillow in the center of the bed. He’d felt something like a tearing in his chest and found himself curling around the pillow so he could hug it to his chest. For the first time since he’d woken in this time, he’d been absolutely certain that something of his memories must still be in his head because this… this was something like a word on the tip of his tongue he couldn’t quite capture.

Part of him had just wanted to go to sleep in this strange, but not strange bed, curled around that pillow, but the other part had forced him to his feet.

He’d gone back to the main room and found his wallet. He dug out the receipts there before spreading them out on the kitchen counter in chronological order.

He was going to retrace his steps from the week before the incident.

Most of the receipts were places on or around the college campus. He decided to avoid the ones on campus, staying true to his word, but planned to work his way out using the university as the epicenter.

The first place he went was a coffee shop which according to the address on the receipts was only a few blocks from where his office building was. It was called ‘The Hideout’ and was the source of multiple receipts. He was easily able to find it on foot.

The second he walked into the shop, he was hit by a wave of déjà vu so strong that he felt he might get a nose bleed. It was as though he’d walked the path to the cash register thousands of times in a dream.

“Hey Logan!” a cheery man said. “I haven’t seen you or Patton in days. I was getting worried.”

“I have been ill and am still recovering,” he replied. “Patton has been caring for me.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but I’m glad you’re feeling well enough to be out and about. Do you just want your usual coffee or are you eating?”

“I’d like a turkey sandwich,” he said.

“One turkey sandwich, no tomatoes,” the man said, “and a coffee with two sugars, don’t tell Patton.”

Logan gave him a tight-lipped smile and handed him a twenty-dollar bill, adding another receipt from the establishment to the pile in his wallet.

He sat at a corner table and the sight of the calm coffee shop both made him want to relax and want to jump out of his skin. There were ghosts dancing in front of his eyes: little wisps of figures that weren’t there and conversations that weren’t happening. His head hurt.

He ate the sandwich and drank the coffee, the taste as familiar and unknown as the rest of this place. The man at the till waved to him when he left.

The next place was a small bookstore that he walked around for half an hour and the grocery store on the corner. Each prickled familiarly at the back of his skull but did not give him quite the pounding headache as the coffee shop had.

He felt like a ghost haunting his own life.

There were a few other places he found himself, a couple of fast food restaurants and a juice bar in a gym that didn’t seem to affect him at all.

Last, he ended up outside a tailor’s shop farther from the university than anything else. He had a feeling this had been the source of the new suit in his closet. He didn’t go inside, just stared at the mannequins in the window for a long time before he walked away.

He got back to his apartment a bit past noon. Perhaps he should not have been surprised after yesterday that there was a figure on the couch. Logan froze. Patton did not react for a moment to the sound of Logan entering the apartment and Logan wondered if he’d fallen asleep sitting up with his head in his hands.

“Did you go to class?” he asked after a few long moments, still not moving.

“No,” Logan answered.

After enough time that Logan started to shift uncomfortably, he removed his hands and gave a sharp nod. “I’m glad to see you aren’t dead.”

“Would you like to know where I went?” Logan would like to tell him, especially because now it felt like the missing memories, wherever they were in his head, were slamming into whatever figurative wall the memory gun had erected in his mind.

Yet, Patton said, “no. Not right now.” He got to his feet then. “What would you like for lunch?”

He was not hungry as he’d eaten recently, but he wasn’t going to say that. “Anything is fine.”

“I’ll make buffalo chicken tenders,” he said and once again Logan was stricken that the man with an expression on his face that on lesser men meant Logan was about to be cold-cocked would put forth the effort to make one of Logan’s favorite lunch time foods.

Logan wanted his memories back and not even for himself. He just wanted to remember how to wipe that expression off Patton’s face and wondered why on Earth future him hadn’t bother to write that down.

Want to read more? Click below!

AO3 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Epilogue

[canumoveurseatup-no]

Luxury of Loving You pt.2

summary: it’s all okay until it’s not.

word count: 4K and sorry there isn’t a “keep reading” tab- i did this on mobile.

pairings: college!tony x black!college!reader

warning: aaaanngst, insecurity, communication problems trope, break up,

a/n: needed more angst in my life so i decided to project it into yours as well lol. please comment and reblog!

————

He better have a good explanation for missing this date night too. For some reason he had just been slipping lately and it worried you more than anything because it’s so unlike him to do so.

Knocking on his dorm room door, you were knocking relentlessly until the door open and you were ready to talk his ear off until you realized it wasn’t even him who opened the door.

“Who the hell are you?,”

You couldn’t help the scowl on your face or your tone, but seeing another girl in your boyfriend’s room did not set well with you but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions- though you were ready to leap like a frog.

“Virginia Potts but you can call me Pepper,”

“Okay Penny,”

“Pepper”

“Penelope, where the hell is my boyfriend?,”

“In here, sweets,” Tony sat at his desk and you pushed the door open to see a him in front of a bunch of books. Glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose, hair in a tired mess and in his favorite sweats.

“Tony,”

You never called him Tony. It was either Ant or Anthony- sure Tony was just a nickname but when you called him Tony- things weren’t okay.

“I didn’t do it,” he put his hands up and twirled in his chair to see your attire before realizing what the situation was, “And... Of course I didn’t... I didn’t show up, again...”

“Who is she?,” teeth gritting, you wanted to throw something.

“She’s a new transfer- she’s one of my residents and she needed help with one of her classes,”

You put your hand up and shook your head before snatching your flats off and storming out of the room despite Tony calling after you.

You heard his heavy footsteps after you but kept your eyes straight, just wanting to get to your room so you could shower and scream out into your pillow in frustration.

Tony stopped in your way and wouldn’t let you pass, despite your clear annoyance.

“Move, Tony,”

“Stop calling me that.”

“That’s your name isn’t it?,” your voice stayed on the same octave, you were too monotone for his comfort.

“Not when it comes to you, I’m Ant,”

“Move,”

You didn’t want to talk. You wanted to get away from him because while you loved him with all of you, you couldn’t stand to be around him. This is the third rescheduled date night he’s missed this week alone.

“I’m not moving. I’m so sorry for missing date night but when my residents need me, especially new ones who have no one, I have to be there,”

You had to force yourself to keep a scoff in. You didn’t have anything to say.

“You of all people should know that,”

He really went there. Recalling your first actual interaction and using it against you.

“I’m going to bed,” you step around him, not even wanting touch him, you made your way to the staircase to head to your floor. He kept calling out your name but he knew he fucked up when you didn’t even spare him a glance.

You slammed your door shut and put the sign on your door to “do not disturb”. Showering and getting in your bed, your phone vibrates relentlessly for a good hour until you heard persistent knocking on your door.

“Sugar, open up. She’s gone, I had to help her with one assignment, I didn’t think it would take so long- I’m so sorry for missing date night- baby open up- Y/N, please!,”

You pulled your covers over your head and willed yourself not to cry, cursing at yourself for me omg emotional.

“You looked so beautiful tonight, I can’t believe I missed it,”

You let him keep talking as you forced yourself to sleep.

“Please, sugar. Let me in,”

———

The next morning you dragged yourself out of bed and for yourself ready for class despite your body telling you no.

Not giving a damn about your appearance, you threw on a pair of sweats, crocs, a sweatshirt and as much as you wanted to go to class in your bonnet, you decided against it and laid your hair down as best as you could to slap a dad hat on.

Opening your door, you didn’t expect a body to fall at your feet.

Tony stayed out here all night.

He woke up with a jolt and smiled when he saw you but when you didn’t smile back, he realized he was in deeper shit that he initially thought.

He moves out of your way as you shut and locked your door and he still followed you. He had time, he didn’t have class today.

“Baby. Talk to me- I’m so sorry.”

You popped your earbuds in and Tony stopped in his tracks as you exited the building.

“Fuck, dude,” he swore to himself.

“Trouble in Paradise?,” his lab partner, Bruce, came up to see Tony watching you walk way.

“I missed our date night... again... and when she came back I had a girl in my room,” Tony noticed the way Bruce’s eyes got wide, “She’s a resident! A new one at that and she just needed help with her homework and I got caught up and now she’s upset with me and man... I screwed up,”

Tony wasn’t sure what to do. You really weren’t talking to him and you wouldn’t even look at him as if your life depended on it.

“Surprise her,” Bruce shrugs as if it was as simple as 2+2.

“What?,”

“You have a master key dude. Key into her room, set something up and surprise her- duh,” the young boy rolls his eyes behind his glasses and walks away- leaving Tony standing there to fend for himself.

He took Bruce’s advice though. Using yellow flower petals, candles and a nice meal from your favorite restaurant around the corner.

He heard you key into your room and he heard his heart pounding in his ears as if this was your first date ever.

You open the door to the smell of sweet orange and peppermint essential oils and a dim glow in your room. Had you not been bothered by last nights events, you would have swooned. You get ready to turn around and walk away until Tony runs to you and pulls you in and shuts the door.

“Please don’t leave- I am so sorry. I know nothing can make up for how much I most likely hurt you by simply missing dates but I promise- I never... never meant to hurt you or dismiss you. I’m sorry and I’ll be better, just please talk to me- even if it’s to yell, I just need to hear your voice,”

He looked like a lost puppy and it stirred a guilty heat in your chest, though you shouldn’t feel guilty for being upset.

“Yelling would waste energy that I don’t have, Tony,”

“Please stop calling me that,” He hated to hear it come from you. His eyes began glistening with tears and he shook his head, “I’m your Ant. You call me Ant because it feels personal to you,”

You were beginning to feel bad- you hated to see him upset but damn. As much as you wanted to “eye-for-an-eye” this situation. You couldn’t bring yourself to.

“I waited,” you snatched your hands from his, “I waited and I waited and I waited,”

God, he hated to hear your voice crack. But you didn’t raise it, you didn’t yell. It was the calm before the storm.

“I had people looking at me with pity- thinking I was stood up by some random guy but the people who came up to me and said ‘he’s not worth it , honey’- I didn’t have the guts to tell them it was my boyfriend who I was madly in love with and not some random dude I met on a dating site,”

You sniffles and sat at the makeshift dinner table he made. “It would have been different if it was a random guy but it wasn’t.... it was you, Anthony. You,”

Taking a deep breath, you wiped your face and sighed, staring at set up, “this is gorgeous,”

“I’m so sorry I pulled a shitty boyfriend move,” he sat across from you and stared you right in your eyes. Any other time you would bashfully look away, but you maintained that eye contact with him, “I don’t know what else to do or say. I love you unconditionally and I’m sorry I haven’t been showing it,”

“I still love you,” you sniffle and begin eating, you hadn’t eaten all day plus you missed dinner last night. So for lack of better words, you were starving, “Plus you got my favorite so that’s some brownie points back in your basket,”

He smiled and chuckled at your joke and nodded, beginning to eat as well.

“Are we going to be okay?,”

“We’re going to be okay,”

————

You and Tony were just about to have makeup sex when his phone went off.

“It’s one of my residents.”

“Is it Polly Pocket?,”

“Pepper,” he corrects. He sits up in frustration and answers the phone. He rushes to get dressed and you just keep your gaze up at the ceiling, of course this had to happen now.

“Yeah, Pep- I’ll be right there,”

The simple nickname probably meant nothing, but it didn’t go unnoticed. He hung up and you just knew what his sigh meant.

“Just go... RA duties call,” you turn over in your bed to take a nap and he knew he was back at square one with you.

“I love you,” he kisses your shoulder but your body flinching away didn’t go unseen. He sighs again and is about to head out when your voice stops him and instills a sense of unease within him.

“Don’t forget to lock the door, Tony,”

————

You’ve been avoiding him and people were beginning to speculate.

You sat in Bruce’s room just eating popcorn and binge watching asmr videos on YouTube. You made Bruce swear not to tell your whereabouts because you knew Tony would show up at your door bad you been in your own room but after a few days- the calls stopped, the texts stopped and it made your stomach hurt.

You got up and turned Bruce’s tv off before leaving and heading to Tony’s room- right as you were about to knock, his door flew open and there was Pepper.

“I’m always here for you,”

“Thanks so much, Ant,”

Everything hit you like a ton of bricks hearing her call him the nickname only you call him.

Tony’s eyes met yours and you shook your head before taking off in a sprint far away from him and her. You ran downstairs in a flash and out of the door building. You don’t know where you’re going but as long as it’s away from that building, it didn’t matter.

You pumped your arms back and forth and your feet slammed on the ground, you never ran away from something so fast in your life. You landed yourself at the library which was way across campus and hid in a study room. You try to catch your breath before you even try to cry it all out but the drumming of your heartbeat in your ears overwhelmed you so much you just fell in one of the seats, tears coming against your will and you choked on air, trying to evenly get it in your lungs.

You wanted to flip every table in and chair in this place but you barely had the strength to hold yourself as you let the built up insecurities pour out of you like blood to an open cut.

It was going to be a long night.

———

“You let her call you what?!,” Bruce shrieked. Even Bruce knew that was a boundary to not be crossed.

“I don’t need you scolding me!,”

“Well Y/N isn’t here and even if she was she probably wouldn’t have the strength to so someone has to!,” Bruce slapped Tony up the side of his head, “You’re such an idiot,” He hissed.

The two continued roaming the campus for any sign of you and Tony could feel his heart rate kick into overdrive as he realized he had no idea where you could be. You enjoyed so many parts of the huge campus he wasn’t sure what to do. He was at a fork in the road but that road has a million and one pathways.

“Man I don’t know what to do,” Tony tugged at his roots and his face turned red, “Oh man, I fucked up. I- I royally fucked up,”

———

You felt like trash, despite your splitting headache and rubbed-raw-nose, you trudge back to the dorms after hours of hiding away. Your heart and stomach both drop out of your ass when you see Tony pacing in front of your door and you wished he didn’t spot you.

“Don’t- Don’t touch me!,” you backed away from his arms that reached out for you, “I can’t, I can’t stand the thought of you touching me right now, so just don’t!,”

He hated the way you shielded yourself away from him- not making eye contact, lips and cheeks wet from new tears.

“Sugar, I don’t know why I keep fucking up,” He was losing it, his hair was a mess and the whites of his eyes were absolutely red, “I love you so much and I’m so sorry.”

“I feel like you don’t love me anymore,”

“Don’t say that,” he shook his head furiously, “Don’t say that because if I didn’t I wouldn’t be here begging. Begging for you to forgive me, begging to hold you and show you how much I’m sorry,”

“I feel like you don’t want me anymore,” you declare, “Tell me, do you want her? Because I can walk away right now and not come back to you, if that’s what you want. It will be like you never knew me,”

You wiped your tears with your sleeve and Tony was at a loss for words

“Tell me what you want because I feel like it’s not me anymore!,”

That was the only time you raised your voice. It felt like the world was on your shoulders.

“I only want you and I’m so sure,” Tony inches forward just a tad, he didn’t want you stepping away, “I’ve never been so sure of anything else. Not my career choice or major, not my decision to come to this school. Not one of my cars, nothing! Nothing compares to how sure I am about you,”

You weren’t sure what to do or say. Tony had his hands around your heart and lately it’s like he’s been squeezing it, taking your breath away instead of gently cradling it like he used to.

“M-maybe we should take a break,”

“No,” Tony shook his head, “No. No way in hell am I letting you go. Breaks fix nothing, Y/N,”

“What do you want me to say?!,” slamming your foot on the ground, you didn’t give a damn about the quiet hours.

“That you love me! That we’re going to be okay!,” his volume matched yours and he was about ready to drop to his knees and plead.

“I don’t know if we’re going to be okay!,” you admit. You hated to see the way he looked hopeless after those words came out, “Never- have you ever made me feel second to another girl! And you’ve had plenty new girl residents, Tony,”

“Ant” he corrected

“I can’t call you that anymore,”

“Don’t say that,”

“You don’t get it!,” your arms were thrown up into the sky, “How would you feel if I got a new male resident and I missed our date nights and I’m leaving our time to go to him? Or he’s calling me the nickname only you call me? How would you feel? Because whatever your answer is- multiply that times 10 for how I feel!,”

Tony knew you always had a fear of someone else coming in between you two simply because he was Tony Stark. He didn’t have much to say, he knew you were right.

“I fucked up, I know... but baby please- let me fix this,”

“I need time to think, Tony,” you walk around him to your room and he knew he couldn’t chase after you. He knew you needed space, despite wanting to grab you in his arms.

“Sugar-“

“Y/N,” you correct. You missed how much more sullen his face had become when you wouldn’t even let him call you your nickname. This whole ordeal left Tony’s ears ringing. Nothing seemed right.

“Please don’t walk away. Please- we can talk things out-,”

“I need time to gather what I even want to say to you, Tony!!!,”

“Will you please stop calling me that!! I’m not your Tony!! I’m not Tony to you!! I’m Ant and you’re not Y/N to me, you’re Sugar!! It’s so stupid to drop a cliche right now but you’re the sugar to my ant, ants love sugar and I love you so please don’t do this!,”

You didn’t want to walk away. But you needed a good nights rest. It was the weekend and maybe sleeping in will do you some good before having him come over in the afternoon.

“My room tomorrow at noon. Can’t be anywhere near your room right now... we can talk then, Ant,” your heart swelled at the way his eyes glistened happily at the sound of you calling him Ant instead of Tony.

“Copy that,”

———

You woke up to the sound of knocking on your door. You were thankful the knocking woke you up, stress induced nightmares were the worse, especially when you knew you were dreaming but your body wouldn’t wake up. So you were grateful that an outside force did it for you.

You stalked out of bed and opened the door to see an anxious Tony biting the aglets of his hoodie strings.

“Came early. Needed to see you,” he came a whole hour early. He couldn’t sleep at all last night. Went to Pepper’s suite and told her that despite her advances, he had a girlfriend. He knew it shouldn’t have taken all of this for that to be said but Tony was the oblivious type, considering he always talked about you.

It was evident he was hyped up on coffee and energy drinks by the way he was gittery. He only did that when he was on the verge of a mental breakdown.

“Ant, baby sit down,” his pacing was making you anxious and you just wanted him to calm down. He was probably thinking the worst right now. You sat on your bed, twiddling your thumbs and kicking your feet not even knowing where to start.

“I’m such a bad boyfriend,” he rambled, “Ya know, I never even saw a problem with her actions? I- I was just so oblivious. I ignore anyone else’s advances because I only care about you. It shouldn’t have gotten to this point for me to see it. To see that her asking help for assignments- coming to me about supposed suitemate problems were all just advances to be near me and baby I am so... so sorry,”

He was so animated with his rant but you knew it wasn’t a good thing- he was working himself up which would only result in him shutting down.

“Then she called me Ant and no one besides you calls me that and I knew then something wasn’t right then I saw you and you ran and baby I swear my heart dropped out of my ass- then I couldn’t find you for hours and then you came back and you were sobbing and the way you shielded yourself from me and begged me not to touch you and you kept calling me Tony I just knew I knew I was going to lose you and I don’t want to- God, Sugar I don’t know what I would do,”

The way he broke out in a sob had you jumping off your bed over to him and getting him to sit down

“How didn’t I see it? How did I fuck up so bad? I missed date nights, Sugar. I never do that!,” his face was as red as a fire engine and you just held his face and told him to shush and breathe for a second.

“I’m right here, Ant. I’m right here,”

He sounded like a wailing child and you didn’t even know what to do, “I’m so sorry,” he just kept chanting, “I don’t want a break. I want to fix this, I gotta fix this,”

“We can’t fix it if you pass out on me now can you?,” you send a smile his way and you could feel the way his body relaxes at the sound of your laughter- he hasn’t heard it in like... two weeks, that was waaay too long.

You sat with him, soothing him until he seemed calm enough to hold a conversation.

“I was scared,” you drop your hands from his face and now you find yourself pacing, “I- I never get jealous or worry about other girls but then I saw her- I’ve never seen her before or anything so just seeing her in your room when you were supposed to be with me set me off,” your hands were flailing as you spoke and Tony nodded for you to continue.

“Then right when we were about to make up you leave me to go to her and I get it- at the time it seemed like simple RA related stuff but leaving me in my bed, bare, to go to her hurt worse than the night before, then after that you stopped trying to get in contact-,”

“Bruce told me you needed space, I just wanting to give that to you so I didn’t upset you more,” he butts in

“-Then I go to your room to talk and make up and I hear her call you that and it’s like my world was shattered o-or taken from me because only I call you that and I know it’s just a nickname but it was personalized for you by me and it was special and hearing someone else say it made me feel like they had you but only by stealing you from my grasp and I felt so bad about myself- I felt stupid because I felt insecure. I felt so many emotions. I wanted to claw her eyes out, I wanted to pound your chest with my fists while I screamed at you- I didn’t know what to do because nothing between us came to a boiling point like this,”

You catch yourself sniffling and rambling just like him and now it was his turn to comfort you and calm you down.

“No one else is stealing me. I promise.. I’m yours for always- you’re my girl for always. I’m sorry all of this went down and I promise to be more observant. I promise to never, ever, make you feel like this ever again. I love you too much to hurt you like this, unintentional or not,”

“And I promise to vocalize my issues better rather than running and avoiding you,”

He nervously held your hand, in fear that you’d pull away for some reason, “I love you, so much, c-can I hold you now?”

You drag him over to the bed and have him crawl under the covers with you closest to the wall. You kiss his cheek and rest your head on his chest, wrapping his arm around you.

“Yes you can,”

He held you tighter than ever. As if this was a dream or a cruel trick of the mind where you actually hate him and want him away from you.

“And I love you more, Ant”

—————————

is it really a bexie fic if there’s not even a tad bit of angst??

i love y’all so much- thank you for the constant love and support. PLEASE REBLOG AND COMMENT!!

tags- @blackreaders-assemble @vozit @babybubastis @yournonlocalpoc @retroxvailles @valkyriesnymph @dumbchick @warmchick @spideys-wife @xye-weirdo @veryhellshdia @crawlingnightmares @hisxblackxqueen @chonisberonica @valentinevirgo @here-for-your-bullshit @never-enough-time-for-sleep @m00nlightdelights @valynsia @mbaku-babygirl

[immpeccablystudious]

6 Important Tips to Make Distance Learning Easier

Let me preface by saying, this post will not have the answers to any of your classes to make them easier. Distance learning and, online classes in general, are what you make of them and what you put into them. I have taken online classes for many semesters and while they were never my favorite option (especially for language classes (looking at you, French 101)), I did notice that the more time and effort that I put into those classes, the more I enjoyed and did better in them.

With the added pandemic, this is going to be harder than others, but I’m hoping that my advice from my own experiences will help you for this upcoming semester/school year!

1. Designate your study area

It seems self explanatory and that everyone is saying this and that would be because it is and they are! Having a space that is solely dedicated to work/school/studying is SO important. Whether this is in the corner of your bedroom, a room no one uses within your home, or a lap desk in your living room, make sure that you are using this space only for working. My best advice to go along with that is, if you have the means to, try to revamp your work space to be more inviting and comfortable. I don’t want you to sit in a hard, uncomfy chair for hours on end looking at a blank wall and I’m sure you don’t either. Make your study space a place that you want to be! Swap that old computer desk chair that you’ve had for 8 years for a cute, comfy one instead (this is directed 100% towards me). Add some shelving for cute plants and knickknacks. Add awards or accomplishments to help you keep pushing. If possible, add a cute wallpaper! Anything to spice up the space that you are going to be spending A LOT of time in!

2. DO NOT DO WORK IN YOUR BED

Don’t do it. I spent all that time talking about designating a study area for a reason. Sitting in your bed to do work might seem like a good idea, but in reality, all it’s going to do is make you more tired, frustrated, and less likely to actually do/remember any of the work you try to do. Your bed is made for sleeping, so keep it that way! My space is very small this academic year and it’s very tempting sometimes to leave my desk, walk the 3 feet to my bed and lie there. And there’s nothing wrong with that! Just don’t bring your work with you. Leave it where it needs to be. You want to make sure that your brain isn’t associating your bed with work which could create not so pleasant sleeping habits that keep you from relaxing when you really need to. My advice? Once you get up, stay up*. I’ve found that I’m less likely to get back in bed if I straighten my bed once I get out of it. I’ll head to the living room and watch tv or sit in the dining room and watch YouTube while drinking my coffee/eating breakfast and there’s not as much of a desire to get back in bed after that.

*Disclaimer: Naps are important. Rest is important. This is not me saying do not rest/take naps when needed. Please rest your body it’s very important!

3. Start setting things up early...like now

This includes but is not limited to: your sleep pattern, school supplies, school schedule, finances, work opportunities, etc. As an Enneagram 1w2, Capricorn moon and rising, and INFJ (and generally just a type A person), I’ve been getting ready for the semester since June. Not because I necessarily wanted to, but because over the course of the few months from leaving my community college to my new 4-year, there’s been a lot of overlapping of responsibilities that has lead me to finish with a lot of housekeeping duties early. I’m now in a 3 week limbo, where there really isn’t a lot for me to do other than to wait for professors to start posting their courses on Blackboard. But, starting early has made all the difference. I started with my sleep schedule based on my class schedule. On Mondays and Wednesdays, my first class starts at 9:35am (specific, right?) meaning that if I want to have a slow and productive morning to wake up and be ready for class, I need to naturally start waking up earlier. This is my first weekend since starting my sleep change and I have successfully done it! One thing that I wasn’t really expecting to change as much as it has been is my school supplies list. I love using pen and paper for notes - it helps me think about the subject and helps to remember what I’m learning. But with online learning, I’ve had a sudden urge to try online notes. There have been times before where I would supplement my paper ones for online but it wasn’t often and it wouldn’t last very long. My main hesitation - staring at a computer screen for SO long. Using pen and paper breaks up the amount of time I’m staring at the screen (especially if I get digital copies of my textbooks). It’s the little things, ya know?

4. Let everybody know your schedule

If you’re going to be on a Zoom session at 8am, it’s important to let your parents/guardians/siblings/relatives/friends know so that nobody walks out of their room in their puppy pajamas for the whole class to see. Embarrassing story example: I was on a Zoom meeting for an student org and my brother walked out of his room without a shirt on. I didn’t realize anyone could see him until it was too late and I could see some of the advisors chuckle. Yeah, that was not fun. There have also been times when, over the summer while working, my family would be having loud conversations in the background and I wouldn’t be able to turn my microphone off. Making sure that everyone knows the times when to be quieter is important because you want to get the most out of your classes without the distraction. I would start off with just going over your schedule, when there are times to be a little louder and when things should be a little quieter.

5. Start implementing healthy habits

This goes back to #3, sort of. I wanted this to be separate for multiple reasons. I have struggled with healthy habits for so long but one of the things that helped is setting a routine. When I get into my routine, I feel the difference when I fall off and it doesn’t feel good. For someone that has dealt with iron/vitamin deficiency, taking supplements and vitamins has been my saving grace. I used CareOf vitamins for about a year and LOVED IT. Before the semester starts I do a big grocery shop that involves getting healthy foods to cook with, not so healthy snacks to have for those late night cravings, frozen meals for a quick lunch between classes, work, and homework, and little extras - skin care, body care, etc. I love Trader Joe’s for this because it is surprisingly affordable! If you have one in your area and have never been, PLEASE take some time to stop by soon! It’s my favorite place to be.

6. Planning, planning, planning!

All of my planners are probably already very skilled on this, so for those who want to get started, this is for you! I know that the aesthetic of bullet journals and planners is cute and fun to play around with but if it doesn’t work with you, not only are wasting your money, but you’re wasting your time! One source that I feel like works universally is Google Calendar. You can customize it to use it the best way FOR YOU. Just need a reminder 15 minutes before class? You got it! Need a more detailed schedule to plan out every second of your day? You got it! Need a place to put your to-do list? You got it! Want to see a daily, weekly, monthly, or yearly view? You. Got. It! Google calendar has so many bells and whistles to give you the most power and customization possible! I don’t know a single person that has used it and hasn’t loved it.

I hope that this helped at least a little bit as you all start your academic year. Of course, there are plenty of more ideas, tips, and tricks to getting off to a good but I hope these help where they can!

[ilovemyschool]

Teaching through COVID???

Bless you if you actually make it to the end of this post, lol.

I teach high school science- specifically Chemistry and AP Chemistry.  I absolutely love teaching and I love my students.  I especially enjoy getting to talk to them about what they want to do when they graduate, where they want to go to college, what kind of jobs they want to do, and all of that fun stuff.  Finishing high school is an incredibly exciting time in life for a person, and I feel privileged to get to re-live the excitement and apprehension and hopefulness and all the other feelings that come along with having so many possibilities for your life laid out in front of you.  I don’t know any other kind of work that allows you to feel those feelings year after year like I get to through my students.  I also try to support them through the hard stuff.  I listen when they cry and tell me that they feel alone in a room full of people, I hug them (if they want a hug) when they tell me their mom moved out over the weekend, and I feed them and get them additional support when they tell me they are hungry and don’t have enough to eat.  I spend hours on tutoring, grading, and lesson planning outside of my “contract hours.”  It never bothered me because I knew I was doing something that mattered to my kids.  If you’ve never gotten to see a kid gain self-confidence in their own ability by practicing with you one-on-one- let me just tell you it’s magical.  When they know you’ll sit down and work with them again and again when it’s still tough for them, they can see that you believe they’re worth the time and effort, and they start to believe it too.  When you get a note from a student about how they never thought they’d be able to understand chemistry so well, but aced a state final exam or got a 4 or 5 on the AP exam, it feels like you’ve done more than teach them your subject- you’ve taught them to believe they can do hard things.  

I’m sick to my stomach right now, because I am so torn on whether to go back this year.  My students are set to come back in two weeks.  There are so many things going through my head and this has been whirling around for the past two weeks, so I’m writing it out.  To quit or not to quit.  That is my question.

To Quit:

*My district notified parents of the plan just two weeks ago at the same time as the teachers- teachers actually just got a quick email that said something to the effect of “oh hey- check out this stuff we’re sending to parents about next school year.”  

*Since they released their plan, I got in to see a doctor.  I have an autoimmune condition.  It’s not a big deal in general, just a pill everyday, but it does affect my risk- although in the grand scheme of immuno-issues, thankfully mine is on the low end of the COVID risk spectrum.

*The district’s plan is for all students to go back to school 5 days/week, unless they opt for the virtual option.  The hours will be shortened so that the district doesn’t have to do a deep clean at the 4 hour mark as would be required if we were in school for the usual 7 hours.  Instead, teachers will all teach 4 class periods and also have to teach an online class.  If you’ve never taught, teaching online is a whole separate thing, so even if you teach chem both online and in person, it’s likely that most of the time you’ll have to set up your lessons completely differently for the two.  It’s not a deal breaker, but it’s extra work for sure.

*Teachers are responsible for sanitizing the classrooms between classes, which means we’ll have to pee some other time, although every teacher is teaching all 4 classes, so we won’t have anyone available to cover us?  I guess they’ll figure that out?

*According to the FAQ document our principal sent out, if we are told to quarantine or isolate, we have to use our sick days.  If we go through our sick days or run out we can apply to the sick day bank.  They don’t say it in the FAQ, but once you’ve used up days, they dock your pay.  

*However, that might not actually be a problem, because in a virtual staff meeting they held on Friday, the assistant superintendent shared that the health department here is now defining “exposure” as 15 minutes or more within 6 feet of a person who has tested positive without a mask.  That means that we could be in the classroom with kids who later test positive for COVID for an hour and neither the teacher nor the parents of the other kids in that class would be notified or asked to isolate because we were all wearing masks and therefore were “not exposed.”

*Since all kids are going back at the same time, thats nearly 1800 kids (minus the ones who signed up to take all their classes virtually).  Based on early estimates, less than 20% are going to opt to go online.  There are no plans to stagger class changes, which means our hallways will be full- it will not be possible for students to social distance.

*Currently, I have a class with 33 students in one of my face-to-face classes.  That’s a fairly big class anyway, but in COVID, they’ll be packed in there.  It is not possible to keep that many kids 6 feet apart in my classroom.

*We are relying on parents to do temperature checks every day and keep their child home if their temp is 100.4 or above.  If you’ve ever taught, you know that while most parents are responsible with things like this, there are some that will send their child in no matter what because they have to work or (in some very sad situations) want the time to themselves.

*In our state’s official COVID school plans, they outlined “Required,” “Strongly Recommended,” and “Recommended” measures.  My district seems to be reading “Strongly Recommended” as “Not Required.”  This means that they are okay with us running labs, sharing equipment, and working in close proximity because they think that parents understand that if they’re sending their child to school, that they know their child will be in close proximity to others.  They say that parents know that their kids will be 2/bus seat anyway and that they’re going to have to be changing classes in a full hallway.  I’m not so sure I agree with that.  I think parents are probably very unaware of that because I think it would be reasonable for parents to think that the “Strongly Recommended” guidelines would be implemented.  I’m not a parent, but I think that I would assume that?  Unfortunately, things like 6 feet of separation, doing on-site temperature checks, and not sharing materials are in the “Strongly Recommended” category, which means the district will “do their best.”

*Our district’s Union President wrote a letter to the board on our behalf regarding the strongly recommended guidelines.  The superintendent was dismissive of those concerns, stating that schools in other countries saw negligible spread upon reopening, which is like comparing our shitty COVID apples to European oranges.  Shortly after his response, two other board members went on to praise the administration for putting together a “safe” plan and quickly approved it to send on to the department of education.  I wish that those board members would come and sit in our classrooms for the first few weeks of school.

*We won’t know which class(es) we’ll be teaching online until the week before (best case scenario), so we can’t prepare very much that is specific to our class until the week before school.  We won’t know our final schedule in general until next week.  To not know this with only a week and a half to go is insane.  My anxiety is in full gear.

*Financially, we could handle it if I don’t work.  

Not to Quit:

*I have one student who had me for a science class his freshman year, then requested to take my chemistry class during his sophomore year, and is signed up for AP Chem this year.  I don’t want to miss it.

*Lots of my former chem kids are signed up for my AP Chem class this year.  I’m newer to the school, but I’ve been really working on growing the AP Chem program.  We even had enough students sign up to make 2 sections of AP Chem this year, which hasn’t happened in a long time at this school.

*I don’t want to quit with only 2 weeks before school- granted, they just announced the district plans 2 weeks ago and in that time I’ve had to talk with my husband and family, consult a doctor, and look at our finances and upcoming expenses to gather the information I need to make a decision. However, with only 2 weeks left before kids are in my classroom, it would be extremely tight to hire and have someone in place for those kids.  I would hate to leave students in that spot where they might start school with a sub.

*I LOVE my classroom and my lab.  I put so much time into organizing and cleaning it out.  I decorated it really nice and made it super functional.  I would hate to have to move everything out- I doubt I’d ever have a classroom that epic again.  All my desks match, too!

*A bird in hand is worth two in the bush.  I have a job I really love at a school I like and with kids I like and it’s close to my house.  If I resign, they’ll have to hire someone else for my job, and I won’t get it back next year.  There is no guarantee that I get hired again next year at another school nearby either.  With budget cuts, who knows?

*In a new job, I could be teaching anything in the sciences- I love that I have a specifically chemistry teaching job.  Those are rare and hard to come by.

*One of the “Required” measures in the state’s plan is to wear a mask.  That’s helpful.  All students and staff will have to wear a mask unless they are medically exempt.

*I’m still youngish, especially by COVID risk standards.

*Maybe nothing bad will happen- hopefully it won’t and the year will go relatively smoothly and staff and students will stay healthy and get through unscathed.  If that ends up being how it goes, I’d regret resigning and second guess my decision.

*I would feel guilty for calling it quits when so many others don’t have the option and may be at higher risk than me due to age or underlying conditions or taking care of loved ones that are either older or immunocompromised.  I know so many teachers who have to work this year because their spouse/partner is unemployed, or they are the sole breadwinner for their family, or they are going to retire soon and need their income to stay high to maximize their social security benefits.  

*I don’t know how I’ll take it if I go from teaching full time to being a stay at home wife.  I did stay at home for a year when we moved to another state, and it was HARD on me.  I developed a bit of a depression, exasperated by some other things that were going on.  I got on medication and did some therapy and it eventually resolved, but that SUCKED.  I would really miss my students and my fellow teachers and having a clear purpose/mission for my days.  

In conclusion...

I’m not generally a hypochondriac or a “Nervous Nelly.”  Most stuff rolls off my back fairly easily.  This scares me.  I get the flu or an upper respiratory thing almost every year.  There’s no reason to think that somehow I’ll manage to miss COVID if it comes into our school.  I am beyond anxious about teaching in person with so few precautions being taken.  I’m also angry that my choices are to resign and lose the job I really want or to go in and feel anxious and angry about the lack of care and respect that teachers and students are being shown by district and building administration for the foreseeable future until COVID is over.  I have had a stress knot in my gut for the past two weeks over this stuff, and I highly doubt it’s going away if I decide to stay and teach.

Since the pandemic started I have stayed at my house with few exceptions over the summer.  I wear a mask when I go out, I usually use a pick-up option for my groceries, a drive-thru option for my pharmacy, and I just avoid gatherings.  We do occasionally see my in-laws and my parents, usually outside and observing social distancing. In my state restaurants can’t fill to more than 50% capacity and movie theaters are just plain closed, but schools are about to open at 100% capacity.  I honestly can’t imagine putting myself in an enclosed space with over 30 kids or into a hallway with close to 1800 of them.  Even more than that, I can’t imagine not sitting down at a desk next to them to help them or watch them work a problem to see what they’re thinking.  I can’t imagine not getting to hug the girl who’s mom left or sit with the boy who doesn’t feel connected with his peers so he comes up to sit with me and do his homework after school.  Even if I do teach this year, I worry that my kids won’t get what they need from me- whether that’s homework help or emotional support.

If you are so inclined, please send up a prayer for state leaders, school administrators, teachers/school staff, and students this year.  We could all definitely use some wisdom, some grace, and your good vibes.

[artificialqueens]

Revelation Sunshine, Chapter 2 (Courtney/Vixen) - Veronica

A/N: I am so excited to finally be writing this story, especially as part of the challenge. Thank you so much to anyone who’s liked or commented. And especially thank you to the creator of the Galactica universe, @theartificialdane

Last chapter: After flirting via text and social media for a few months, Vixen and Courtney finally met in person, and ended up in bed.

This chapter: After a slightly awkward morning, they try to navigate an undefined long-distance situation.

***

It could have been a lazy morning, cuddling in bed while the rain pounded down outside, streaming against the windows, turning the whole world blurry and surreal. Vixen could have stayed in bed, warm and safe, and basked in the glow of their adorable puppy-love until Courtney had to leave for her photo shoot.

She could have let herself enjoy this—whatever it was, for at least a few more hours.

Instead, she woke up feeling unsettled and insecure, slipping out of bed to hunt down a toothbrush while Courtney dozed peacefully. It wasn’t until she was trying to quietly put her clothes back on and figure out where the hell her coat was that Courtney stirred.

“Good morning,” Courtney said with a yawn, sitting up slowly, tousled hair falling over her shoulders.

“Hey, sorry, I was trying not to wake you,” Vixen said. Her coat was nowhere to be found, she realized, because it was still downstairs where she’d checked it when she arrived. She rolled her eyes at her own alcohol-fueled stupidity and shoved her feet into her shoes.

It seemed to take Courtney a few moments to comprehend what Vixen had said, brow furrowing.

“You weren’t gonna say goodbye?” she asked softly.

Vixen froze.

“No, that’s not what I...I just know it’s early and I didn’t want to bother you with-”

Shit.

Courtney pulled the blankets up over her chest, an inscrutable expression on her face.  

“Look, I know that I have a reputation for…” she paused, swallowing, “...I guess, taking this kind of thing lightly. But, that’s not what this is. I really like you.”

Guilt bloomed in Vixen’s chest as she moved to the bed, sitting down beside her. It actually hadn’t occurred to her, until this very moment, that Courtney might be feeling a scrap of the insecurity that plagued her. Everything about her life felt so charmed and perfect and easy; it was hard to remember that she was human too.

“I’m sorry,” Vixen said sincerely. “I really like you too. I just...I wasn’t thinking.”

Courtney nodded. It seemed like she believed her, so Vixen decided not to push it.

“Um...you fly back tonight, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And then your tour starts on-”

“Friday,” Courtney answered, a hint of resigned exhaustion in her voice before adding a chipper, “Can’t wait!”

Vixen chuckled softly.

“Well...then I guess I’ll see you when you’re in Chicago.”

“Yeah?” Courtney’s eyes shone hopefully.

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it.”

Courtney gave her a lopsided grin, which deepened when Vixen moved closer, kissing her lightly.

“Hey, um...text me later. Tell me about that museum,” Courtney told her, fingers lacing with Vixen’s.

“I will. And you...let me know how everything goes today.”

“Sure.”

When Vixen pulled back to look at her, she was relieved as the brightness in her eyes. It was going to be a long couple of months, but with things being what they were, it seemed unwise to try and define their relationship any more than “can’t wait to see you again.” So for now, this would have to do.

***

Trying to keep a lid on her obvious fuming, Vixen typed out a text.

Sorry to bother you right now, but the guard won’t let us in without backstage passes. Can someone maybe call him?

“Where are your passes?” the guard said again, crossing his arms, a scowl on his face.

“I...already told you, we don’t have passes, but I’m supposed to be on the list. Toni Taylor.” Vixen shifted, indignation rising in her chest as he stared her down. She was not going to lose it, though. Not here.

“You’re not on the list,” he said, giving a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Show him the text!” Monet said, elbowing her in the ribs.

“Oh right...sir, look. I have a text from Courtney Act that says to meet her here. I just contacted her again, but I’m sure she’s busy, so if you could-”

“How the hell do I know that’s a real text?” the guard scoffed.

“I...how far would we get if it wasn’t?!” Vixen asked, exasperated. “You think her people are just gonna let us in? Do you think that we think we can sneak around anywhere?” Vixen gestured to their group, five tall Black women all in bright, colorful club wear. Not the most inconspicuous of groups.

COURTNEY: OMG COMING NOW

“She says she’s coming,” Vixen said, looking up at the girls.

“Herself?” Monique asked, head tilted questioningly.

“I...I don’t know,” Vixen said.

But in fact, within 2 minutes, Courtney rounded the corner, in silver thigh-high boots and a makeup smock, hair half in curlers, the blonde offset by fresh rainbow highlights, marching towards them like a bat out of hell. A terrified redheaded boy wearing a headset followed on her heels.

“Where are they?!” Courtney demanded, then looked up and spotted Vixen, her face softening, hurrying toward her. She wrapped Vixen into a tight embrace, saying, “I’m so sorry about this, are you okay?”

“Yeah, we’re fine,” Vixen laughed. “Don’t worry, no one got out of line.”

“Okay. I’m sorry, this kind of shit is so fucking irritating.”

The guard, utterly chagrined now, started to stammer out an apology, but Courtney held up her hand.

“It’s fine. It’s your boss that I’m annoyed at.”

“So are they all on the list for-”

“Yes! All of them! Jonathan, give them the passes.” Courtney snapped her fingers at the ginger boy by her side, who hurriedly handed out VIP backstage passes to the whole group as Courtney led them back down the hall to the green room.

Mayhem and Monet exchanged a glance, Mayhem mouthing, ‘BAD ASS,’ and Monet laughing silently, nodding.

When they finally reached the large green room, Courtney turned around, urging the girls to make themselves comfortable.

“Have a seat anywhere. There’s food, drinks, and I…” she clasped her hands together. “...I’m so sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, girl. I love seeing someone yell at a douchey bouncer. Hi, I’m Monet.” She reached out a hand towards Courtney.

“Monique,” Monique jumped in quickly. “…and this is Mayhem.”

“Monet...Monique...Mayhem…” Courtney repeated with a nod. “Well, that’s gonna be a challenge.”

“Why?” Vixen asked, brow furrowed. “‘Cause all Black people look the same?”

Courtney’s eyes widened in alarm.

“No!” she insisted. “No, I meant because it’s just a lot of M names! And if-” she stopped short, seeing the stifled grins on all the faces around her, and narrowed her eyes.

Unable to hold back any longer, the girls all burst out laughing, peals of laughter bouncing off the walls. Courtney shook her head at Vixen, grinning.

“Good one. I almost had a heart attack,” she said, finally allowing herself to chuckle.

“Vix, what have we told you about scaring white girls just before their concerts?” Asia asked.

“Uhh...to do it?” The girls continued to laugh.

“Hey...I’m Moesha,” Asia said, and Courtney nodded slowly. When Mayhem hit her on the arm, she grinned and said, “Just kidding. I’m Asia.”

“Thank god,” Courtney breathed, a relieved giggle escaping. “So, I’m so glad you guys are here, but I kinda need to go finish preparing. I, uh…” She gestured to her half-done makeup and hair.

“Of course. Don’t worry about us,” Asia told her. “You go do your thing, get your makeup done, we’ll just be here. We’re gonna switch shirts and then test you on all the names.”

“Brilliant,” Courtney laughed. She turned to Vixen, fingers brushing against her wrist, asking, “Do you wanna come...hang out while they finish my makeup? You can see Kylie.”

“Sure!”

“Who’s Kylie?” Asia asked coyly, and Vixen turned around to give her a warning look before following Courtney into the adjacent room.

“Her dog.”

“Oh. Pity. I was hoping that it was her pus-”

“Asia!”

***

The concert was great—Vixen hadn’t seen Courtney perform for years, and she’d certainly upped the production value. Plus, having a VIP experience with some of her closest friends was awesome. It felt like the old days, all of them laughing and drinking and dancing and gossiping like school girls. Asia especially made her feel some type of way—ever since making partner at her law firm, she’d been working so much that Vixen hardly saw her. But tonight, they felt like kids again, even doing shots at one point, laughing until their stomachs hurt.

By the time they met Courtney backstage, collapsed in a sweaty mess on one of the green room sofas, Vixen felt pleasantly buzzed, happy and warm all over.

They settled in with more drinks and Indian food ordered from a nearby restaurant.

“So, how do you guys all know each other?” Courtney asked.

“College, mostly.” Vixen said, telling her how Asia was her RA freshman year at Hillman. “I was a fucking mess,” she said, laughing.

“You sure were,” Asia agreed, telling Courtney, “She spent most of the Fall semester on my carpet in tears.”

“Awww…”

“Well, fuck you, I had a lot on my mind!” Vixen snapped, then giggled again. “And, uh...Monique was in the same dorm. Although we didn’t really become friends until that Spring.”

“Yes! That philosophy class, with the...ugh,” Monique recalled, shaking her head.

“Monet was my study partner until she abandoned me,” Vixen went on, and Monet laughed.

“Listen, I just didn’t connect with all that sociology jargon. It didn’t speak to me,” Monet said.

“And uh, Mayhem met Monet through some educational leadership networking bullshit, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” Monet nodded.

“And now we’re just...a bunch of boring ladies who work too hard and meet like once every 2 months for brunch,” Monique said.

“Party!” Mayhem added, clinking their classes.

Courtney grinned, listening to them share stories of their debaucherous college days and their sordid, stressed out twenties. Vixen could tell she was exhausted, knew that she was sacrificing her precious few hours of sleep before she had to get back onto the tour bus, just to hang out with her and get to know her friends.

Vixen kept looking over at her with a stupid, goofy smile on her face. At some point, it became permanent, making her cheeks hurt.

When the tour manager pulled Courtney away for a quick discussion, Asia took Vixen’s hand and squeezed it, saying, “Now, I know you don’t need my approval…but I like her.”

“Thanks,” Vixen grinned. Well. Continued grinning.

“And tell her I want tickets to the Oscars.”

“Oooh!” Monet chimed in. “I wanna go to the Tonys!”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’ll be her first priority, guys,” Vixen said with an eye roll.

“It’s not fair...why can’t a rich, famous pop star fall in love with me?” Mayhem whined. “I’m very lovable.”

“Ehhh,” Monique gave her the ‘so-so’ gesture and the rest of the group busted up laughing once again.

Later, after several rounds of good-bye hugs, the girls headed for their car, and Vixen lingered behind, telling them to go ahead without her, she’d get her own car. (And then of course, she had to pretend not to see Asia’s knowing wink.)

“We had a great time, I really...you were fantastic up there,” Vixen said.

“Thank you for coming,” Courtney said, leaning against the door frame. “Now, don’t get me wrong, all audiences are special, in their own unique way…”

Vixen laughed, reaching out to cup her cheek.

“But, um…” Courtney trailed off, eyes shining as Vixen’s thumb grazed her skin.

Vixen leaned in, watching her eyes fall closed before pressing their lips together. The kiss was soft and sweet, and fairly chaste. But when Vixen pulled away, the dreamy expression on Courtney’s face made her heart hammer heavily.

“I love your hair like this,” Courtney said, admiring the gold woven into her twists.

“I tried to glam it up for you.”

“You’re beautiful.” Courtney’s lashes fluttered, arms wrapping around Vixen’s waist.

“So are you,” Vixen said, hands still cupping her face. “So...I know you must be pretty exhausted...but…you’re also really hot.”  

Courtney bit her lip and leaned in for another kiss, lips trailing down her jaw and then nuzzling into her neck. She heaved a deep sigh.

“I really want you, but I can barely keep my eyes open,” Courtney admitted, voice muffled against Vixen’s skin.

“So...maybe I should leave, and let you rest.” She trailed her fingers through Courtney’s hair, watching the way her colorful highlights caught the dim light, not yet ready to let go of the moment.

“Okay,” Courtney agreed, hands still gripping her waist tightly.

Of course, she ended up staying. By the time they settled into Courtney’s hotel room, they barely had 3 hours. So Vixen just wrapped Courtney into her arms and held her, enjoying this little sliver of affection before she took off again, knowing that it might not be until her tour ended in October that they would see each other again.

***

Vixen had watched the video twice already, feeling only mildly ashamed as she started it again. Courtney was lying on a yoga mat, post-workout, skin glistening with sweat. She picked up a bottle of water, the video switching to slow motion as she began to pour it all over her face and chest. She batted her wet lashes, blinking the water out of her eyes before looking directly into the camera and slowly licking her lips. The whole video was just silly enough for plausible deniability (especially the caption of “oh no, i spilled!”) and yet unmistakably alluring. And of course, Vixen’s stomach flipped every time she saw that tongue. What was wrong with her?

VIXEN: Wow. Your last post was…

COURTNEY: You like it? ;)

VIXEN: You look like a THOT

COURTNEY: LOL! Are you slut shaming me?!

VIXEN: I mean...

COURTNEY: Wow. And here I thought you were all about empowerment. Smh

VIXEN: FINE. Go ahead...live your best slut life.

COURTNEY: Aww, thx! Xoxo

***

Vixen was deeply aware of what she said on social media. As much as she wanted to pop off at people (and had, frequently, back in another lifetime, years ago), she knew that her academic credentials required at least a small semblance of self control.

So for the most part, she kept her tweets and instagram comments brief and professional. Almost formal.

Courtney, however, had no such rules for herself. She basically said any and everything on her mind, commented unabashedly, posted without filters. (Except like, literal filters, which she seemed to enjoy tremendously.) It was both endearing and, at times, deeply concerning for Vixen, for whom privacy was essential.

For instance, there was the story from Seoul Pride, where she met up with one of her old friends, Adore Delano—the two of them gallivanting around, drinking and laughing and screaming like idiots from a parade float. The whole thing culminated in a video of Courtney in a nightclub, glassy-eyed and extremely proud of herself, literally licking Adore’s face.  

And then when Vixen posted a still from an interview with the Tribune, she immediately responded with nothing but a row of 10 heart-eyed emojis. Which led to Vixen getting hundreds upon hundreds of comments from what she presumed were Courtney’s (very young) followers: unbridled, hysterical excitement the likes of which she had never seen.

VIXEN: Um. What...with all due respect...the fuck?

COURTNEY: Oh yeah. The shippers. Sorry, I should have warned you.

VIXEN: I mean. Jesus fucking Christ.

COURTNEY: We’re OTP #couplegoals now. I’m afraid you have to marry me.

VIXEN: Seems that way, doesn’t it? BTW where are you? What time is it? Shouldn’t you be sleeping?

COURTNEY: Berlin. 4 am. Yes.

VIXEN: Say goodnight, Courtney

COURTNEY: Goodnight Courtney <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

***

A few days later, after finishing some rather emotional office hours (why every student felt the need to unburden their deepest traumas on Vixen that Wednesday, she didn’t know), she took a much-needed break, sipping a cup of coffee. She saw the picture right away (okay, maybe she had alerts set up by now, whatever)—Courtney curled up in bed with her dog, wearing a fuzzy pink unicorn onesie with turquoise accents and a ridiculous rhinestoned horn.

VIXEN: I can’t decide if it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever worn, or like...mortifying

COURTNEY: Both!

VIXEN: Lol, fair enough

COURTNEY: And perfect for cuddling ;)

VIXEN: I’ll bet!

COURTNEY: Why don’t you send me a pic in your favorite sleepwear?

VIXEN: I’m supposed to be a respectable member of the faculty, and you want me to use school wifi for that?

COURTNEY: SEND NUDES XXX

VIXEN: Lol

*

About a week later, a box showed up at Vixen’s front door. The return address had Courtney’s name and an unfamiliar return address. She assumed it was fine, but her suspicious nature required a safety check.

VIXEN: What’s in this package that just showed up at my house?

COURTNEY: OMG! That was so fast!! Open it!!

VIXEN: So, not a bomb? Please confirm

COURTNEY: Lol, no. Open it.

Vixen took the box inside, cutting it open carefully. Inside, there was another box, pink and shiny, with a card on top. The note read, ‘To replace your hoodie. Perfect for snuggling. XO, C.’

She lifted the lid on the pink box, and nestled inside was a fluffy turquoise dragon onesie with iridescent pink scales. It was the silliest thing that Vixen had ever seen. Silly and beautiful and perfect.

VIXEN: Damn. I guess fantasies do come true.

COURTNEY: I hope so...

[marshmallow-phd]

Lies Untold

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Supernatural, Wolf Au

Pairing: Luhan x Reader

Summary: For generations, your family has been the protectors of mankind. You were considered one of the best and due to that reputation, you were sent on what could be the most important mission for the organization. Going under cover in a college to sniff out a particularly large and threatening wolf pack seemed easy enough. But when you meet one of the members, everything you’ve known since birth will be overturned and your loyalty to your family and heritage will be tested.

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I 12 I 13 I 14 I Final

**

You shouldn’t be doing this. You knew that you shouldn’t. And you couldn’t even say you knew it deep down because the anguish and fight was right there on the surface of your heart.

All week, you’d been trying to figure out a way to avoid this, to come up with another plan that didn’t involve anyone getting hurt, but you came up empty. So there you were, sitting up in that tree, your bow as heavy as lead in your hand.

From where you were perched, you could still see the rental that you had parked on the side of the road. After the deed was done, you’d need a quick getaway. You were also secretly hoping that they wouldn’t come this close to the edge of the forest.

An hour or so had gone by without any sign of them. While you were relieved, you were also anxious. Over and over, you told yourself that it was better that you did this rather than Johnny showing up. It was a lie, of course. This wasn’t any better, not really.

You felt like a fraud. Like there were two different versions of you walking around, inhabiting the same body. There was the one you’d always known, the one who was loyal to her family and the organization. And then there was the new you, the one who’d grown stronger after perhaps living deep inside you in the dark for so long. That version questioned everything she’d ever been taught, all for the sake of a wolf. You didn’t know which one was real and which one was fake.

Rebellion was not in your nature. You always stayed in line, obeyed every order without question, blindly trusting your leadership, who also happened to be your father. You’d never been secluded from the real world, but coming out here on your own, you felt like you were really seeing it for the first time. Or maybe just a different angle of it.

A rustling reached your eyes, pulling you from your internal monologue and making you face your immediate reality again. One last time, you inspected the arrowhead. You watched as the thick, molasses-like liquid slid down the metal edges. It was a special concoction, rarely ever used by the hunters due to its potency. Even humans were vulnerable to the poison living in it, a mix of wolfsbane and other toxins, if it ever reached the bloodstream. But it wasn’t a quick death, slow as it made its way through the body. You hoped that, since you put only the tiniest drops on the arrow, no one would come out seriously harmed after this. Especially if they got to the book in time.

The crunching of leaves and dirt grew louder. Docking the arrow, you brought the long-range scope up to your eye and searched the area in front of you. A small group of the wolves were running together, playfully snapping at each other and seemingly enjoying themselves a hundred yards or so away. Two of the wolves were pure white, one as black as coal, and another who sported a beige coat that felt a little ordinary when mixed in with the others.

Since the beige wolf stood a little apart from the others, you lined your sight up. You just wanted to graze him, not cause any permanent damage. Taking one last deep breath, you hesitated, just for a moment, before letting the arrow slip through your fingers.

You didn’t wait to see if you’d hit your target. You couldn’t.

Jumping from the tree, you landed hard on the soil, rolling so you didn’t cause yourself any damage. You ran for the street where the car door was open and ready for you take off. The engine was still rumbling and after throwing your bow in the back of the vehicle, you sped off down the road, careful to still remain within the speed limit in the rare case you came across a police officer.

Back within city limits, you parked the car several blocks away, emptying the inside of anything that might identify you, even wiping the steering wheel clean and using a lint roller over all the seats. Then you just left it there. Maybe in a day or so, you’d return it.

As soon as you closed the door of your apartment behind you, your bow clattered down to the wooden floor.

What the hell have you done?

The weight of your actions bore down on you. As much as you wish you could, you couldn’t take it back. Was that really the better option? Maybe you should have just turned yourself over to the pack, let them kill you since that was probably their plan with you anyway once you were discovered.

Storming into your bedroom, you ripped the board out from your closet, tearing the photographs and pieces of paper from their thumbnails keeping them to the cork. You threw the pieces everywhere. It was all you could do to take out your anger and frustration at the corner you were backed into. Surrounded by the hours of work and stalking you had done since arriving here, you collapsed down to your knees, bent over with only your palms on the carpet keeping you up. Luhan’s face haunted your mind, his smile, his laugh, the soft way he looked at you. Once he discovered what you’ve done, he would hate you. And that was the heaviest consequence of them all.

**

It had been a peaceful day, a calm morning. Almost everyone was out of the house, leaving Luhan alone with his thoughts. He hadn’t seen you since he left your apartment. Each time he went to work, he’d hoped that you would show up randomly with an answer, but each time he went home disappointed.

Eyes staring down at the table in the breakfast booth, he traced the outline of your tattoo over and over again on the shiny wood. Throughout the entire course of the night the two of you spent together, you never took off the thick leather cuff that covered up your mark. He considered just telling you that he knew what you were. Maybe that would help you. Or maybe it would just make things worse.

He’d promised to give you space, so he would. Even if it was torture to him.

“What are you drawing?”

Luhan nearly jumped out of his seat at the question. Sehun slid into the seat across from him, a curious frown pinching his face.

Wiping the table as if that would erase the nonexistent doodle, Luhan replied, “Just nonsense. Nothing, really.” He narrowed his eyes at the younger wolf. “Shouldn’t you be in class?”

Sehun smirked. “Canceled. Professor sent out an email this morning. Probably has a hangover or something.”

Laughing, Luhan shook his head. “Or more likely, he’s just sick. The cold’s going around.”

“No, not as interesting.” Sehun leaned back, sighing. “So, what are you up to today?”

“I don’t know,” Luhan replied with a shrug. “I don’t work tonight so there’s not much on my calendar.”

“Since when do you not work Friday nights?”

“I traded with Ron,” he explained. And he was a bit thankful for it. He was too distracted to be able to handle the crowd that was to be expected tonight. He wasn’t hurting for cash so he might as well give the shift to someone who had rent to pay.

Sehun had his thinking face on and that usually meant trouble. “Well, Tao’s busy, but Minseok and Kyungsoo are home – without their mates, for once. Why don’t we all go for a run?”

A run? Yeah. That sounded like a good idea.

At Luhan’s nodded agreement, Sehun slapped the table and jumped up, running out of the kitchen excitedly. Releasing a sigh, Luhan headed out for the backyard, already pulling his shirt over his head. When the other three were outside and ready to go, they all took off, racing through the forest at high speed. None of them were focused on where they were headed, no real direction or destination in mind. They mostly just egged each other on, getting rowdier and more rambunctious as they went along. Luhan was enjoying himself, not acting like the oldest and just being loose. Kyungsoo stayed on the edge as he ran alongside them, keeping his distance but clearly laughing at their actions.

Wait! Minseok yelled, making them all slow down.

What is it? Luhan perked up his ears, searching for something the beige wolf might have heard.

We’re getting close to the edge, he explained. We should double back before someone accidentally sees us.

You’re ri- argh!

Sehun had taken the advantage of Luhan being distracted to pounce, getting a good nip at his neck. Momentarily ignoring the warning given by Minseok, Luhan turned to counterattack. Sehun was, unfortunately, a bit bigger than Luhan, giving him the slight advantage. The others just stood there and laughed at the two white wolves who were blurring into one.

A whistling sound flew the air, making them stop. But it was too late.

An arrow had sliced through Minseok’s back, making him howl in pain. All four of them shifted back into human form. For a moment, they were all too shocked to do anything besides stare at Minseok lying on the ground as he groaned from the pain, a long red streak oozing blood running diagonally across his back.

“Get him back to the house!” Kyungsoo yelled. Turning on his feet, he started running in the direction that the arrow came from.

Hauling Minseok up, Sehun carried him on his back as they headed back to the house as fast as their human forms could take them. From the way Sehun had to hold onto the older wolf, Minseok was too weak to stay on if they shifted back to wolves.

By a miracle, Yixing was standing in the kitchen and talking to Ming as he cooked a meal for the two of them.

“Oh my god!” Ming yelped as soon as they stumbled into the house.

“What happened?” Yixing ran to them to help Sehun lay Minseok face down on the kitchen table.

“I don’t know,” Sehun growled, his fist curling at his side. “The arrow came out of nowhere. Kyungsoo went to see if he could find the shooter. It had to be that hunter the other pack talked about.”

Yixing’s face scrunched into a fierce expression. “Ming-”

“Already on it!” his mate yelled from halfway up the stairs. She came back less than a minute later, first aid kit built especially for werewolves in hand.

“I’ll call Junmyeon and Kris,” Sehun offered thickly. He was shaking violently which explained why he went into the backyard after swiping his jeans from the back of the booth. His cellphone was in his pocket, but the last thing Yixing needed right now was for him to lose it and shift right there in the kitchen. Sehun cared deeply about all his brothers and seeing Minseok whimpering in pain there on the table was hard on them all.

“It’s festering,” Yixing whispered, harsh lines forming on his forehead. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“Will he be okay?” Luhan asked desperately. He needed Minseok to be okay. His brother had to come out of this alright.

Yixing didn’t look at him as he sighed. “I don’t know.”

Sehun came back inside, phone in hand and dressed once again. He’d calmed down enough to stop shaking. He held the cell out to Yixing, telling him in a monotone voice, “Junmyeon wants to talk to you.”

Yixing nodded, taking the cell right away. “Yes, Junmyeon?”

If Luhan had been concentrating, he would have been able to hear both sides of the conversation. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t focus on Yixing’s words either. Because he knew the reason Minseok was in so much pain.

You.

Had he been wrong to protect you? Should he have told his pack the truth from the very beginning? Could this had been avoided if he was honest? With anyone?

Yixing hung up and handed the phone back to Sehun. “Junmyeon is picking up the book with Kris and then they’ll break the speed limit to get here. Until then, I’ll try to clean the wound as best as I can.”

The book. The book.

Luhan remembered seeing a few notes on your board regarding the museum and then there was the time he found you leaving the back rooms, barely catching you on the steps. It was all piecing together in his mind.

Is that what you were after this whole time?

Kyungsoo came back just then, his face blank as he stared at Minseok.

“Did you find them?” Sehun asked, eagerness in his voice. It was frightful tone, even putting Luhan on edge.  

Kyungsoo shook his head. “No. They were long gone. But I brought this back.” He held up the arrow, red blood painting the head, covering up the silver metal underneath.

“That will help to figure out what’s in Minseok’s system once Junmyeon arrives with the book.” Yixing took the arrow, inspecting it closely.

Not saying a word to the others, Luhan grabbed his clothes and tore out of there, running out the front door and passed the garage. He didn’t even bother with his car, just pulling on his shorts and shirt as he headed for the woods. He had too much anger riling up inside. The car would be faster, but he couldn’t drive in this condition.

When he finally broke through the trees into city limits, he was coated in sweat and breathing heavily, but he still didn’t slow down. Luhan tried his best to avoid knocking people over on the sidewalk as he thought back to the way to your apartment from the bar. It was easy enough to find once he retraced his steps. He slammed his fist against the door hard, over and over again, not caring about your neighbors in the slightest.

You opened the door and Luhan shoved his way inside. Taking in your face, Luhan was able to calm down a few notches, at least enough to stop shaking and even out his breathing. Your eyes were red and tear stains were visible all over your cheeks. From where he stood, he could the disaster that was was your bedroom through the open door, paper strewn everywhere and the corkboard now broken in half.

Swallowing thickly, Luhan glared at you, feeling his own eyes prickling with growing tears. “It was you, wasn’t it?”

Unable to answer him verbally or even meet his eye, you nodded.

Luhan growled, low and elongated. “Why?”

“Because,” you whispered, your voice coming out unsteadily, “it was either that or let someone sadistic come and torture you. I couldn’t let that happen.”

“We can take care of ourselves!” he roared. “How was hurting Minseok the only way to stop that?”

No longer meek or afraid, you yelled back, “I was ordered to! It was maim one of you or risk more hunters showing up here and killing you! I didn’t have any other choice!”

“Then just lie and say you did it!”

“My father would find out! He always does!” You were gritting your teeth, water pooling in your eyes once again. “He’d bring more people here and just eradicate the pack! I don’t want you to die!”

Unable to find a response, Luhan just let out a yell, grabbing whatever was light and nearest him, throwing it across the room. You didn’t even flinch as the candle crashed against the floor.

“You know what I hate the most?” Luhan mumbled. “I want to hate you. I want to so badly. But I can’t.”

“That’s okay,” you told him softly. “Because I hate myself enough for the both of us.” It was your turn to yell wordlessly. “Why do I feel this way about you? I’m a hunter! You’re a wolf! I shouldn’t be feeling this way towards you! So why!”

“Because you’re my mate!”

Saying it out loud for the first time felt good. And it shouldn’t have. Not when it was in this situation, under these circumstances. But the confirmation made him feel lighter just by the slightest fraction.

“You’re supposed to say that I’m simply crazy.”

A laugh - freaking laugh - actually escaped Luhan. “I think we’re both crazy.”

You shook your head. “How long have you known? That I was a hunter?”

“Since that first night in the bar,” he admitted. Pointing to your wrist, he explained, “I saw your tattoo.”

You cursed. “Ametuer move.” After a pause, you asked, “Does anyone else know?”

“No. They don’t know about you at all, save that you’re Hae In’s cousin.” And for that, Luhan was grateful. Curious, he asked, “Does she know? Hae In?”

“No. She has no clue.”

He looked up at you, fearful of what could come next. “Will Minseok die? From whatever you poisoned him with?”

“As long as they get the book, from what we think, the cure should be in there. He still has several days before it’s gets too bad. I put the smallest dose possible on the arrow. I only meant to scrape him. If that happened, then he should be okay.” Out of nowhere, you began to sob, crumpling into yourself as you covered your face with your hands. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Pulling you into his chest, he rocked you back and forth. He shushed you gently as he cradled the back of your head. Comforting you like this felt strange, yet oddly right. He meant it when he said he wanted to hate you. The image of Minseok withering in pain on that table was burned in his memory. But you said he would be okay, so Luhan would trust you.

Then again, he’d done that once before.

[edsspoonie]

#myEDSchallenge May is Ehlers-Diablo’s Syndrome awareness month. I’ve written out my story below. It’s probably way more than you ever wanted to know about me,😂 but I wanted to share for awareness sake.

Approximately 1500 words

What Chronic Illness with Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome Looks Like for Me

Pat Berryhill

I wasn’t diagnosed until I was in my early 40’s but I always knew something felt “off” with my health and energy levels in comparison to others.

I hated Physical Education in school and began to notice pain in my joints around Jr. High School. I requested “sitting out” (later just not dressing for gym class at all) starting in 8th grade. I’d notice ankle and knee pain on a regular basis and especially with sports during class. Volleyball killed my hands and wrists. I ended up passing Physical Education with a D (One step above failing) because of it. This trend continued through graduation.

As I grew older and began to attend college, my book bag would cause uncommon pain in my back and shoulders. I began to experience migraines and just a general feeling of malaise. I had a lot of issues with my mental health, as well, and was diagnosed with bipolar II. The issues continued until age 31, when I had to have a hysterectomy due to exacerbated pain and blood loss. I had already given birth to my two daughters, so there weren’t any issues about fertility, although I had an ectopic pregnancy and an additional miscarriage between my kids. I was diagnosed, as a young mother in my 30’s and found it tough to keep up on housework. I just didn’t have the energy and the pain was steadily increasing.

I went back to school and got my Medical Laboratory Technician Associates degree in Laboratory Science and began working for a large medical organization in their freestanding Emergency room. I loved my job and was proud of myself for overcoming my issues enough to go back to work. I had been on disability from age 31 after my bipolar diagnosis and having had 17 jobs from age 16-30. I would work awhile, have pain, fail at a job because my performance would drop. I only got fired twice. Mostly, I quit to find something “better suited” for me and the cycle would continue.

But as an MLT, all was well. I loved my job and by then, I had begun taking prescriptions for my pain. So, I was happy. When I started having issues remember how to run quality control test and maintenance, I thought it was simple brain fog. I couldn’t remember anything, I was scared of hurting someone if I didn’t do the blood work tests correctly because of potentially missing a step or improper documentation. I attributed it to my fibromyalgia. In reality, I’d had a small stroke in the area of the brain that holds and retrieves memories and deals with cognition. It doesn’t manifest physically like other strokes and is easy to miss.

After leaving my MLT job, I was devastated. I had been off of any psychiatric medication since before graduation. However, the stress from my problems at work caused a resurfacing of my bipolar symptoms and I took a leave of absence which turned to a permanent one. This returned me to my SSI supplementary disability income. I felt like a failire. After leaving my job, I decided I would return to college and get a BA in creative writing.

During college and immediately after graduation, I began a literary magazine called ”Wraith Infirmity Muses” online (no longer available). It was here an “EDSer” introduced some of her writing and a book about her journey to diagnosis. It was like reading my own medical chart. I took it to my primary care physician who made me an appointment with a geneticist who said I fell one point shy of diagnosis because no one in my family had been diagnosed.

Since then, my daughters have taken steps to seek diagnosis due to surfacing pain and subluxations they have experienced since childhood and are progressing. My oldest now has her diagnosis. When I see the geneticist again (my appointment is 2 YEARS out due to lack of doctors in the field), I will update my diagnosis from HSD to EDS and be typed, (I hope).

I have multiple issues that stem from my EDS. Muscle spasms where they struggle to try to hold together my sublexing joints. I have had radial ablation on my neck and am about to have it on my lower back. My ankles, feet, shoulders, wrists, and hands are the source of most of my pain beyond my back, hips, and neck. I used a cane for years, but have since upgraded to a wheelchair to increase my independence. I have issues with Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome. It makes me pass out sometimes. I’ve learned this with my heart arythmia and lack of coordination comes from dysautonomia. Another symptom is anxiety. You cannot regulate that “fight vs. flight” system. I’ve always had major anxiety (even more so during this tune of the pandemic) and at times I’ve even struggled with agoraphobia, a fear of leaving home. I sometimes fear being out and being in pain or sick and unable to get back home, whether that looks like an inability to drive or out with someone else that determines the timeframe of the day.

Lipomas and cysts are littered throughout my body. I deal with the discomfort and embarrassment of eczema on my scalp and face. My hair comes out by handfuls when I wash it and I style it parted on the side. I’m constantly wearing wide headbands and hats. I take high doses of antihistamines for an overactive immune response called Mast Cell Disorder.

I’ve had several blood clots, including one in my lung and a Cerebral Veinous Sinus Thrombosis which is rare. It went from the sinus cavity in the brain (that drains blood back into the body from your brain) down into my juggler vein in my neck. It remains partially present to this day and has scared the area. I have to have imaging done periodically and every headache I get makes me nervous it's coming back. Most are discovered on the autopsy table.

I have an idiopathic blood clotting disorder I take blood thinners for, daily. Managing my levels at an even keel is difficult with my issues. I must take a high dose to be effective and sometimes have to give myself shot of another type of blood thinner when biweekly tests show it is too thick. They cause huge bruises and pain. If it is too thin, I have to watch for blood in my urine and bowel movements. I've had numerous tests done to find the cause and it cannot be found.

I have irritable bowel syndrome and I am now having gallbladder issues and am looking at a surgery in the near future to remove it. . I use a CPAP machine to sleep at night because stretchy tissues make me stop breathing 20-40 times an hour without it.

I own multiple braces including a hard neck collar, knee, ankles, wrists, and finger braces. I also have had to integrate slings when my shoulders are bad. I sometimes use athletic tape to support my joints. I sleep on 5-6 inches of memory foam and use 6 pillows when I sleep to get situated in a position that will account for the least amount of time with my hearing pad for my back the next morning and hope none of my joints dislocate in my sleep.

I’m unsure how my health will be affected from this point on, but I’ve been blessed with many zebra friends within the EDS Facebook support groups that help me not feel like a hypochondriac and support for when I visit a doctor that treats me like one. I hope to go to a conference or in person support group maybe this year.

It's a lot and the sheer magnitude if of it along with managing doctors, testing, and surgeries gets really heavy. I often feel useless, ostracized, and invisible. I try not to complain too much and continue to do what I am capable of and sdapting the things I am incapable of to make it work for me. I am fortunate to have a loving and supportive husband, mother, and kids. I worry, at times, my husband will get tired if it all and leave someday even though he assures me he is much to in love with my brain for that to ever occur. There are daily encumbrances that make life painful and clumsy. There is always some new system brewing beneath the surface. I know this from the trajectory my illness has taken so far. I haven't even touched on side effects of medications and managing those. I am dependant on Lyrica. After taking it for three or more years, I've decided to wean off if it due to side effects and a tolerance I've developed that makes it ineffective for my pain. It will take me months to step down my dose little by little to avoid withdrawals that match those from people dependent or addicted to Benzodiazepines.

All in all, I agree with my oldest daughter who says her ”meat sack sucks”, but we have a deep appreciation and love for life, music, art, and mindfulness that I often wonder if I would have attained without my Ehlers-Danlos. At the end of the day, it's good to be me.

[yespleasefandomtrash]

no ordinary exchange

ch. 2 of my self-indulgent rayllum college!au.

"renaissance. typically, rebirth. here, the birth of something new."

AO3. FFN.

xXxXxXx

Callum hadn’t seen any of his friends in two days. Rayla he hadn’t seen since he’d dropped her off at her Shakespearean Literature class, and Claudia and Soren he hadn’t seen since the café and the assembly before that. He hadn’t spoken to Rayla after that evening, either, when she’d texted him ‘thank you’ for giving her number to Claudia.

The reason he felt more hung up on Rayla’s absence, he figured, was because there simply weren’t many people he typically talked to in the first place. Soren was too far ahead of him in school for their paths to cross often, and while he did hang out with Claudia a lot, they didn’t actually have any classes that overlapped.

The only class he knew of Rayla’s was of course Shakespearean Lit, though he was well aware his odds of having any classes with her were slim. It was too bad. She seemed like she’d be fun to share a class with.

Huh. Callum really needed to branch out more amongst his fellow freshmen.

Then again, it wasn’t his fault that people were too afraid to approach him because his stepdad was head of the university. Or maybe they were predisposed to dislike him because his stepdad was head of the university. Whatever. Regardless, his asocial behavior was a result of a mix of factors.

Maybe he should talk to Harrow about -

His thoughts were interrupted by his phone ringing. He normally kept it on vibrate, so it startled him, but he recognized that ringtone.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Er, call.

Callum grabbed his phone off the dresser and answered it. “Hey, Dad. What’s up?”

“Hey, kiddo,” Harrow said, static faintly crackling in the background of the call. “I know this is last minute, and I’m sorry for that, but can you look after Ezran tonight? Amaya had to cancel because a conference was rescheduled that she can’t miss.”

Callum was keenly aware of the fact that Harrow knew he didn’t have plans, thus he didn’t understand his stepfather’s apologetic manner about the subject. “Yeah, sure,” he replied. “What time do you want me to be there?”

“Just from 5 to 8. I should be back by then.”

Callum scribbled the time in the margin of his planner before tossing it onto his bed. “You know, I really do think you can leave Ezran on his own now. He’s almost fourteen.”

Harrow sighed, and Callum could practically visualize him shrugging. “Yeah, I know. But I think it’s good that you spend some time with Ezran while you’re still living in the state. Before you leave for your master’s.”

Callum snorted. “I just started towards my bachelor’s degree, Dad. I don’t think you need to worry. Besides - you know Ez and I are inseparable in every sense but literal.”

“How could I forget?” There was the sound of someone talking in the background of the call, and Harrow clicked his tongue. “I’ve got to hang up now. See you tonight, Callum, and thank you again.”

“No problem,” was all Callum managed to get out before his stepdad hung up. He sighed, turning his phone on vibrate before placing it back on his dresser. He was sorely tempted to collapse into his bed, despite it being afternoon. Wednesday was the one day of the week where all he had was one class. That in itself was somewhat a blessing - what was unfortunate was the fact that his class was in the afternoon. Ugh. He hated afternoon classes. But being a freshman meant he hadn’t had much control over his schedule, even considering that he was Harrow’s son.

He glanced at the clock on his wall. He could probably squeeze in a ten-minute power nap before he left -

His train of thought was then interrupted by a loud buzz of his phone. It was unexpected, but not unpleasant, to be contacted by two people within a span of five minutes.

Claudia: all you have is Ren today right??

Callum: Yes; why?

Claudia: jfc only you would send a text with a semicolon

Claudia: i can’t believe we’re friends

Claudia: ANYWAYS

Claudia: i want to have a game night at my dorm

Claudia: maybe around 6

Callum: Tonight?

Claudia: yes

Claudia: so Soren can meet Rayla! you in?

Callum: I don’t think so :( I have to watch Ez

Missing a chance to hang out with all of his friends sucked, especially since it meant he’d also be missing a chance to better get to know Rayla. She’d been right when she’d said he wouldn’t have the guts to text her - although, to be fair, he didn’t have the guts to text anyone, really. But he’d already committed to watching his brother.

Claudia: just bring him! you know your dad won’t care

Claudia: we just won’t play Cards Against Humanity with him there haha

Claudia had a point, as she often did. Harrow trusted Viren and therefore by default trusted Soren and Claudia.

Mostly.

Callum: Sounds like a plan :)

Claudia: sweet!! see you tonight

She followed her final text with a dozen emojis, which brought a smile to his face and made his heart flutter. How embarrassing. Callum then toyed with the idea of texting Rayla and Soren about his and Ezran’s presence at the mini-gathering of sorts, but decided against it. He didn’t want to bother them, and for all he knew, they could both be in class right now.

Speaking of class... He was going to be late if he didn’t leave soon. Talking with Claudia had taken up the time he could have used for napping - tragic.

Without another thought towards his plans for the evening, Callum grabbed his satchel and headed out the door.

At least he was going to Renaissance History.

xXxXxXx

Callum fired off a quick text to Ezran about Claudia’s game night in the spare minute he had before his class began. It looked like his professor was going to be late, anyways. Professor Dupuy had a tendency to stop at Starbucks before their lectures.

Just as he was about to put his phone away, it buzzed. Only it wasn’t an answer from Ezran, which was what he’d expected.

Rayla: Look behind you

Callum wasn’t sure whether to be intrigued or terrified by the message. He turned around, and sure enough a certain white-haired girl was sitting a few rows back, giving him a satisfied smirk. He offered her a small wave before sending her a quick text in return.

Callum: You can sit next to me, you know

Rayla: You sure?

Rayla: Isn’t it social suicide to sit next to the weird Xadian

Callum: I committed social suicide the moment my dad became head of the college

Callum: Seriously

Callum: Come sit

He heard rustling and the shuffling of feet behind him, and sure enough Rayla slid into the desk on his left a few seconds later. Now that she was next to him, he could see that she was wearing a purple scarf around her head to keep her hair back. “I didn’t know you were in this class,” he whispered with mock accusation, unable to keep a grin off his face. “You didn’t mention it when we were talking on Monday.”

“Well, in my defense, I wasn’t in this class at that time,” Rayla replied with a shrug as she straightened her binder on her desk. “I met with Professor Harrow, er, your dad, later that day, and he helped me to reorganize my schedule so that I had a couple classes with Claudia. Calculus and one of my English classes, if you were wondering which.”

He chuckled. “Right. Nice.”

“Anyways, I had to drop a women’s and gender studies’ course I was taking. Professor Harrow told me I could switch into basically any other elective I wanted, and I remembered how much you were gushing over this class, so...” She shrugged again. “Here I am!” She then gave him a suspicious glance. “Although, I didn’t expect you to be in this specific class. How did a freshman get into a second level course?”

Callum smirked. “AP European History credit, thank you very much. Scored a 5 and got out of two semesters of history.”

Rayla rolled her eyes. “Right. How could I forget that you’re a nerd?”

“If you get to call me a nerd, then I can call you a jock.”

Rayla laughed. “Okay - fair enough. Seems like a reasonable compromise.” She lifted her arms above her head and stretched, her nose crinkling as her back cracked. “I hope you’re willing to help me power through this course, prince. I only switched in because you recommended it.”

Callum’s heart fluttered an extra beat at her words, flattered by the idea that she’d taken the class solely based on his opinion of it. “So should I charge you for tutoring sessions?”

Rayla snorted, lightly nudging his shoulder. “As if. I’m an exchange student - I don’t have money to throw around like that. Besides, surely my company is more than enough reward for you.”

“Then I guess it’ll be a favor,” Callum said, pulling his notes out of his binder. “But only since you’re my friend.”

Rayla’s cheeks dusted with a pale pink for a brief second at his words. Then she said dryly, “How kind of you.”

Callum knew his own face had also reddened, but he was saved from having to provide an answer when their professor walked into the room.

At the very least, it was nice to finally share class with a friend.

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