#<- says girl who has 2 years of undergrad left and definitely still has to do that

[dodgebolts]

I'm 12 pages deep into this paper, its nuts. Also worldcat and jstor have a bunch of journals.

YAAAA I love jstor it’s my best friend like I found a book on queerbaiting on there that I downloaded freshman year for a paper that’s still sitting on my computer to be read 😭

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part IX

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 14.3k

Warnings: timeskip, mutual pining, author doesn’t know shit about science subject matter, explicit sexual content, ass play, snowballing, tooth rotting fluff A/N: This is it, y’all. This last part was so much fun to write, I can’t even put it into words. The feedback on this has been incredible, so a big thank you for that, and before anyone asks, I have a handful of spinoff oneshots planned for this series. Enjoy~

- NINE YEARS -

“Hey, don’t forget about the meeting at three.”

 Mike glances up from his computer to find Henning leaning through his office doorway. It’s the first time Mike has looked away from the screen in at least an hour, and he blinks at his colleague several times in an attempt to get rid of the gritty feeling in his eyes.

 “Yeah, thanks,” he nods, rubbing a hand down his face. “Definitely would’ve forgotten about that one.”

 Henning leaves with one rap of his knuckles against the doorframe, and Mike checks his phone to see how much time he has before he has to make his way to the conference room. It’s twenty after two, so he spends a little while longer reading over the journal that had been sent to him, only tearing himself away when his alarm goes off at 2:55. 

 He waves at a few people as he passes, shows the reserved smile he’d mastered upon entering the corporate world, then walks into the large meeting space and sets his little notepad on the mahogany table as he sits down in a plush rolling chair. 

 This meeting has been planned for a few weeks now, a team of researchers contracted by the government to study Lake Sina and everything wrong with it. Its water quality is at an all time low, and it's up to Mike and his team to figure out a way to change that so it can be purified enough to distribute to the public. There are a few large cities close to the lake, all of lower income and all struggling with their water systems. If Sina can get clean enough, it would solve a huge crisis that most people don't even know is taking place. 

 Tomas, Henning, Lynne, and Nanaba are already in the room, and after a few minutes, another group of four walks in, all unfamiliar except…

 Mike’s eyebrows knit together as he stares. He can only see a profile from where he’s sitting, but it’s one he recognizes. The time he spent admiring it, mentally sketching every feature—of course he’d recognize it. Recognize you.

 There is a pounding in his chest that Mike hasn’t felt in years, and his palms are suddenly damp. The collar of his shirt is too tight around his throat, and he reaches up to undo the top two buttons so that he can fucking breathe, but Jesus Christ, he can’t believe it. It feels like a lifetime has passed since he last saw you. 

 He wonders if you’ll have the same reaction when you finally notice him, if you’ll gawk at him or grin or run away. He wouldn’t blame you if you tucked tail. That last conversation—if it could even be called that—is not one of Mike’s fondest memories, and he can’t imagine the toll it took on you, what you must have felt going into your final year of undergrad. 

 “Is there a remote for the projector?” You call out to the table, and your voice sounds exactly the fucking same. It makes Mike want to slam his head into the wood, but before he can, you zero in on him. 

 He watches as your eyes grow, jaw setting, shoulders rising with a deep breath, and oh, you’re panicking. You’re panicking just like he is.

 “Um,” you cough and shake your head, then lean over to speak to one of your people before basically jogging from the room.

 No one seems to think anything of it. Mike has to white-knuckle the arms of his chair to keep himself from getting up and following. There's no reason he should follow, though. The two of you haven’t spoken in almost a decade. He has nothing to share with you, no reason to talk to you on a non-professional level. You don’t know each other anymore, and that’s fine. It’ll be fine. 

 A mousy looking man starts passing out little binders to everyone at the table, then introduces himself as Moblit and the other two in the room as Hange and Abel. 

 "And, the other girl you saw is—"

 "I'm back, I'm here," you announce as you step into the room, closing the door behind you and introducing yourself with a wave. "Did we get the projector working?" 

 "Yes," Abel answers, passing you the remote that Nanaba had procured a few minutes ago. 

 Hange plugs a cable into a laptop and the white screen is lit up with the image of the well known lake, once beautiful, deep blue but now a murky brown. 

 Mike has been preparing for this project for a few months now, going to an off-site lab to look over the samples being sent in or dropped off. He knew there was a research team studying the lake, but… what are the odds that you would be part of that team? 

 He supposes your jobs could overlap just like your classes used to, but you had told him you wanted to go into natural hazards ("You're a natural hazard," he had replied with a snort). Of course, that had been a long time ago, but how had that dream morphed into hydrology? 

 Before the presentation starts, Mike's boss, Keith Shadis slips through the door and takes his seat at the end of the table. You're quick to grab one of the binders and walk it over to him, flashing a smile and never letting your gaze flit to Mike. 

 Hange does most of the talking, going over all of your findings while all of you "braved the wilderness". Moblit and Abel insert a few things here and there, and then Hange clicks to a slide with a graph on it and hands the remote to you. 

 "If you turn to page seventeen in the binders, you can probably get a better look, but this shows how much the level of pollution in Lake Sina has risen in the last year alone. We took samples over…"

 You keep talking, but Mike loses his focus, watching your hands move as you speak, the way you're rocking back on your heels, and how you look anywhere but at him. 

 Even though there's a tiny tremble in your voice, you sound passionate, and why wouldn't you be? Mike is passionate too. About the same god damn thing. 

 With a PhD in environmental science, his specialty is pollutants. It's something he's been interested in since grad school because the earth is beautiful but in an awful state, and Mike wants to fucking change that. He's written journals and articles, worked with leading experts, and it's what he's decided to dedicate himself to, so why is it that this life that he's built for himself is suddenly intermingling with yours? How—

 A hand comes to rest on Mike's and he startles at the touch, jerking his head upward to see Lynne with raised eyebrows. 

 "Mike, I get why you're lost in the pollution sauce, but if you click that pen one more time, I will throw you out of this high-rise."

 He stares at her for a second before chuckling and tossing his pen onto his blank notebook. He hadn't even realized he'd been doing it. It's a little embarrassing, actually. How many people noticed? Did you? 

 The presentation ends with Hange telling everyone that they're happy to be teaming up with the Corporation to work toward a solution and a plan to clean Lake Sina and possibly implement it into larger bodies of water.

 The planning stage of the project will more than likely last for a few months, meaning you'll all be regulars in the office which Mike isn't especially thrilled about, even if you will be sequestered in a little annex and spending a lot of your time in the lab. Mike will still have to see you and work with your team, god, probably have to talk to you. 

 The floor opens up for any questions, but Shadis is the only one who speaks, wanting clarification on some statistic that Mike is going to have to read over later. Once the boss is happy, he stands, then walks behind Mike's chair to slap him on the back and say the last thing Mike wants to hear.

 "This is Dr. Mike Zacharias. All of you should get familiar with him since he'll be heading this project."

 Mike sits up a little straighter and forces a tight-lipped smile that all of his colleagues know is fake. 

 "Happy to be working with you." 

 It isn't a lie. He's been excited about this project for a long time now. He just wasn't expecting such a massive wrench to get thrown right into the middle of it. 

 The four of you start packing up your materials. When Henning tries to hand you his binder, you tell him, "No, those are for you to keep. Just to get a real grasp on what we found out there."

 Mike knows he's staring, swiveling back and forth in his chair, twirling the pen he's picked up again, and he wonders if it would just be easier to rip the bandaid off. Exchange hellos, go over the bare minimum—how long he's been with the company, how long you've been researching. Just enough to appear casual, like you didn't break Mike's fucking heart in college. 

 And, then he thinks about just avoiding you altogether. There's always the chance your issues could come up in conversation, and it's so far in the past now, there's nothing either of you can say to make the other feel better. This can't be about closure. It's just a job. That's all. 

 "Wow, everyone really… cleared outta here."

 Mike's vision unfogs, and he glances around to find that yes, you're the only two left in the conference room. Fantastic. 

 You're wrapping a cord around your elbow then shoving it in a laptop bag, and he can tell you're moving as fast as you can, ready to get the fuck out of there. 

 "Uh, yeah," Mike agrees, pushing himself to his feet and grabbing his notebook to curl in his hands. "Everyone's just ready to get back to work, I guess."

 "Yeah. You can only hold someone's attention with a PowerPoint for so long."

 Mike's mouth is too dry, and it feels like he needs to cough, but he doesn't want to startle you, so he just quietly clears his throat in an entirely ineffective way and tells you, "Good PowerPoint, though."

 You snicker, not loud enough to hear your real laugh, and Mike doesn't know if he's grateful for that or not. 

 "Thanks. Mobs made it."

 Slinging the bag over your shoulder, you finally look up at Mike—really look at him for the first time—and he sees your expression go soft, mouth twitching like you’re caught between smiling and frowning, and Mike is taken back to the first night he met you when he wanted you to shotgun that disgusting beer. 

 You blink at him, open and close your mouth, and Mike is waiting with baited breath for you to say something else, but all you do is hold your hand out for him to take the projector remote from you. 

 "Here."

 He grabs it with two fingers, careful not to brush your hand. Fuck, he wishes his heart would stop beating so hard, it's incredibly uncomfortable. 

 "I feel like I should say something," you murmur, "But I have no idea what, so I'm just gonna tell you I look forward to working with you, Dr. Zacharias."

 He grins. Widely. He doesn't mean to, but he does. It's been so damn long since anyone has said his last name like that. 

 "Do you, though?" He asks. 

 "Do I what?"

 "Look forward to working here."

 "Oh, uh…" You bite your lip, start rocking on your feet again, then shrug. "I guess? I mean… Big project."

 "Very big."

 "It's important to me. I can't say that I was expecting—"

 "Me?" Mike offers with a tilt of his head. 

 He's standing too close. It feels like he is, anyway, so he moves back to lean against the conference table. 

 "Yeah, pretty much," you laugh. "It's been a while."

 Mike wonders if you remember that night as well as he does. No matter how much he's tried to forget it, that image of you with fat years rolling down your face just will not leave him. Do you remember how it felt? Can you remember everything he said to you? 

 Before Mike can respond, you wave a hand. "Anyway, I need to go help set up our little area, so…"

 "Yeah, for sure. I'll be around."

 After powering through the last hour of his day, Mike bolts from the building. He needs to get home. He needs to get a drink in his hand. He needs to unwind and not think of you. 

 He needs to fucking call Erwin. 

 "Hey, bro, what's up?" 

 "Dude," is all Mike says at first. 

 "What?" 

 "You will never fucking guess who's on the team we’re working with on the Sina water project."

 Erwin hums in a sing-song sort of way, then chuckles. "Funny, I got a similar call about an hour ago."

 "You guys still talk?" Mike asks a little too loudly. 

 "Yeah, man. Not every day or anything, but—"

 Mike rolls his eyes. "You're unbelievable." He isn't mad, and Erwin knows this. He's just a little surprised. His friend hasn’t as much as uttered your name in the last ten years. 

 "Yeah, whatever. How'd it go from your perspective?" 

 "It—Wait, what did she say?" 

 "Oh, no no no," Erwin laughs. Mike here's a distant, "Hold that, please!" and figures he's making his way to the elevator to leave work as well. "I am not getting caught up in your bullshit again."

 Pouting, Mike finally turns on his car and pulls out of the parking lot. "Fine. It went… Well? I think? I mean, super awkward, but that isn't surprising."

 "No name-calling or confessions of undying love?" 

 "No, I'm not twenty-two anymore."

 "Could have fooled me," Erwin snorts. 

 "Fuck off. It was a good presentation, but she was nervous, and I couldn't tell if it was from having to speak in front of people or if it was 'cause I was there, and then we talked afterward—nothing important or anything, just, like, an acknowledgement. You know, you're here, I'm here, we have to find a way to co-exist, except neither of us actually said that," Mike has to take a deep breath. He's rambling, he knows, and Erwin is just listening, probably storing it all away to make fun of him about it later. "It was okay. It could've been worse."

 "Could have been better too."

 "What? How—"

 "Could have bent her over the desk and—"

 "Dude!"

 Erwin breaks into that deep laugh Mike is so used to, tells him, "I'm just saying! I know she's still cute. We have each other on Facebook."

 He's right. Too right. You are absolutely still cute, all dressed up in business casual attire, so different from the leggings and hoodies you used to wear. Your face has matured slightly—naturally—and your hair is different but still suits you. Mike has no idea how he's supposed to work with you for the next few months. 

 "I can't deal with you," Mike grumbles. "Why did I even call you?" 

 "Probably because I'm the only one who has an inkling about what you're going through right now," Erwin replies. "Aside from her anyway."

 "Yeah, yeah."

 They chat for a little while longer until Erwin gets to the bar he's apparently meeting some coworkers at, and Mike spends the rest of his drive listening to music too loud as he tries and fails to clear his mind of you. 

 *

 You're pacing. You have been for the last hour. The food you made for yourself went cold some time ago, but you're too busy whining into your phone to notice. 

 "Just—like—what the fuck am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to work with him like this? He's overseeing the whole fucking project! I can't just avoid him!" 

 "Okay, first thing's first," Hitch stops you. "I need you to take a deep breath for me."

 "Hitch—"

 "Breathe!"

 You inhale through your nose then blow out through your mouth, but that's obviously not good enough for Hitch because she demands, "And, again."

 "What are you, my therapist?" 

 "I mean, I usually act like one, so… anyway, while you're calming the fuck down, I'm gonna call for backup. Hold please."

 Dropping yourself onto the hotel couch, you try to relax even though you know it'll be impossible because—

 "You're working with Mike?" Rhi's shrill voice meets your ear, and you have to pull the phone away. 

 "Rhi, you're supposed to help me calm her down, not add to her panic," Hitch reminds her. 

 "Yeah, no, that's not gonna happen," Rhi tells her, and you laugh to yourself. 

 "Agreed."

 "Okay, so tell me what happened. Oh my god, did you cry? Did he cry? What'd Erwin say when you told him? You told him, right?" 

 You've gotten used to Rhi's rapid fire inquiries a long time ago, so you have no problem answering, "We walked in for the big Sina presentation today, and he was just there, and I was freaking out, so Hange had to do most of the work but still made me go over my findings 'cause I understand them better than they do, but anyway. I don't think he was paying attention at fucking all which is cool 'cause I wouldn't have been either, and then we talked for a second afterward, but there were no tears. There was almost vomit 'cause I felt like I needed to throw up, but I kept it together. I think."

 "Okay, and Erwin? What'd he say?" 

 You snicker to yourself. "He made fun of me for a little while and then he told me to talk to Mike once I calmed down just to catch up and then to—this is verbatim, by the way—to possibly have dirty sex in Mike's office."

 Both of your friends howl, Hitch being the first to gather herself enough to giggle, "He fucking would say that, oh my god, I hate him."

 "Same," Rhi drawls. "Okay, but is there the possibility of dirty office sex?"

 "Wha—That's what you're taking away from all that?" You splutter. 

 "Uh, yeah."

 "I'm kinda curious too," Hitch pipes up. 

 You wave your free hand around in confusion and tell them, "I—we—no! We don't even know each other anymore. We said, like, four words to each other today, and it was fucking weird, so no. Pervs."

 "Do you want to, though? Has he aged well?" Hitch asks in a low, sultry voice. 

 You click your tongue and pause, not wanting the first thought that pops into your head to be what comes out of your mouth because yes, holy shit, yes, Mike looks so fucking good. It was one of many reasons you were so tongue-tied in front of him. 

 He's still impossibly tall and broad, but in slacks and a button up. The beard he’s always had is short and rugged and a tad darker than the hair on top of his head that he's let grow out long enough to tie in a bun, and it fits him too well. You thought you were gonna start drooling on his fancy shoes. 

 "He's alright," you play. They see right through you, falling into another long fit of laughter until you admit, "Okay, okay, he's still stupid hot, alright?" 

 "God bless. I'm so happy to hear that. I'm so happy for you."

 "Why would you—"

 "Just promise you'll invite us to the wedding."

 "I think you guys are getting a little ahead of yourselves."

 "Oh my god, we have to call Marie."

 "And, Maddie."

 You shake your head as the other two start going back and forth, talking about you like you're not even there, bringing up college memories, old parties you'd all gone to. 

 "Hey, remember when you hated me?" Rhi questions, and both of you snort. 

 "And, you hated me right back. Stole your man or whatever."

 Hitch mutters a quiet, "Ew, fuck that guy."

 And, Rhi picks up, "Yeah, fuck that all-American, record-breaking pitcher."

 The three of you talk well into the evening, eventually switching to Zoom so that you can all see each other and add Maddie and Marie into the call. You and Hitch break open bottles of wine, but Rhi and Maddie don't drink, "Solidarity with this pregnant bitch," Maddie says, and Marie lifts her glass of water to cheers via internet. 

 Sophomore and junior year of college, you never would have expected to get close to anyone other than Hitch, but through a few shared classes and petty curiosity, all of you ended up seeking solace in one another and came out on the other side as best friends. Hitch was even Maid of Honor in Marie and Nile's wedding. Against all odds, everything turned out pretty wholesome. 

 "I genuinely hope it works out," Hitch says now, words long, lazy, and starting to slur together "Like, even if it's just you and Mike making up and being, like, cool with each other again."

 "Hitch, you're drunk, please go to bed."

 "I am drunk. But, I still mean what I said. I miss when you guys were just best friends."

 "Why?" You question with a head shake. 

 Hitch sighs, "'Cause you were so happy."

 "No, I—"

 "I mean, you were still all… weird and guarded, but that dude made you laugh and smile so much."

 "I daresay I even saw you giddy on a couple of occasions," Marie hums. 

 "Whatever. I just want it to be… not awkward."

 "Then, talk."

 "Mm, pass."

 *

 A light knock on the wall of the impressively large cubicle gets your whole team's attention, all of you glancing up to find Mike standing in the little entryway, hands in his pockets.

 "Hey, just checkin' in. Have you all gotten settled?" 

 "Yes!" Hange is up on their feet. "Great accommodations, and that lab you guys use?" They moan, and you can tell Mike is trying not to laugh because his mouth is twisting to one side like it always does when he tries to appear unaffected by something. However, you know well that it is very hard to remain unaffected by Hange Zoe. 

 "Yeah, we haven't had a lab that shiny in a long time," Moblit chuckles. 

 "Don't you work in government buildings?" Mike frowns. 

 "You ever seen the inside of a post office?" You question, immediately regretting it when those light green eyes land on you. 

 "Uh, yeah?" 

 Smirking through the butterflies, you tell him, "Those are government buildings too."

 "Don't mind her. She's just being a smartass," Abel says.

 Mike is really fighting that smile now. Even pinched to one side, you can see the way his lips are trying to curve upward, and you have to bite yours and look at the floor before you start acting like a god damn school girl. 

 It's nearing the end of the first week at your new location. It hasn't been terrible, and some of the strangeness is beginning to wear off, but it's still jarring to see Mike walk around or hear his voice carrying through his office door. 

 Neither of you have gone out of your way to talk to one another. Anything project related, Hange handles for the most part, and if anything is delegated to you, you try to pass it off to Abel because you're just not ready to be alone in a room with Mike. Your brain and your heart can't take it yet. 

 You can't deny that you're curious, though. You wonder what his life is like now, what his job is like outside of what you've seen (which, admittedly, is not much), what he does in his free time now, who he spends his time with. You couldn't help but notice (you made a point of looking) that there isn't any type of ring on his finger which is pretty fucking surprising since, well, Mike has always been a catch. How has someone not come around and swiped him off the market? Or, does he just not wear a wedding band at work? Or, does he just have a girlfriend and is waiting to take the next step? So many questions you have no business asking.

 Mike hums, rubs at something probably nonexistent on the carpet with the toe of his shoe, and mumbles a little, "Nothin’ I haven't dealt with before," that makes everyone look at him curiously. "With co-workers, you know. Lotta sass in the office."

 You stifle a laugh and stand up. There are a lot of sassy things you could say, but you figure none of them are actually appropriate, especially since Mike is technically your boss now—why is that so hot?—so you just slip out of the cubicle, doing your best to not brush up against Mike. He apparently doesn't care, though, because while he moves to the side, he does the thing that all men do, placing a hand on the small of your back as if to guide you past him, and it makes you burn. 

 "'scuse me," you squeak, relieved to be able to run to the restroom where you can sit in a stall and scream to Hitch through texts. 

 You are dying—mostly because you don't know what you want. Do you want to be friends? Do you want to seduce him? Do you want another nine years away from him? You have no idea. 

 You were sad for a long time after that holiday break. You trudged through your spring courses, took more classes in the Summer, then started all over. Hitch had to physically drag you out of your tiny apartment a few times but never to any parties, thank god. Just to lunch or the library, and eventually, Rhi, Marie, and Maddie came into the picture. Further into the picture, anyway. 

 While they got you laughing again, though, that ache didn't ever fade. Mike's words replayed in your head in a constant loop, day and night for months. I can’t do this anymore. Start fresh. Shouldn’t be hard for you. You were mad at yourself for a long time, for ruining everything and hurting him. If you could have gone back to the start of it all and done things differently, you would have, but you just had to sit with all your mistakes instead. 

 Then, your anger shifted toward him. Because you weren't the only one who messed up. You may have been the first one to, but he did some shitty things too. He's the one who didn't care even after finding out it was Zeke who blocked his number. He's the one who refused to believe that you and Erwin weren't actually a couple. He's the one who brought Rhi to the ranch house with the specific intention of hurting your feelings (and to wet his dick). 

 And, he's the one who didn't want to work things out. 

 You understand his frustration. You broke his heart, after all. But then, he turned around and broke yours too. 

 It was nine years ago, and you've moved on. You've dated people since then. You've fallen in and out of love. Mike wasn't even on your radar until Monday, but now… Now, there's no forgetting him. Old wounds get jabbed every time he peeks around the corner, any time you hear him laugh or see him smile, and when he actually looks at you, fuck, it's like someone is ripping stitches out of your skin.

 It is not a productive work environment. 

 Your team hasn't noticed much other than Moblit asking what has you so tense these days, but no one has made any connections, and you'd like to keep it that way. Hange would have a fucking field day if they found out. 

 There are many meetings to toss around ideas, plans and blueprints that get scrapped. You stumble through presentations, trying not to look directly at anyone as your cheeks heat up and your hands shake. 

 "You've never been nervous about stuff like this," Abel tells you in the conference room one day as everyone else files out. "What's up with you?" 

 "Nothing," you shake your head. "Don't worry about it."

 "Nothing my ass," he grumbles, walking out without you. 

 "You really should try to relax," Mike tells you from where he's still sitting at the table. "No idea why you're so nervous."

 Everyone else is gone which means you're free to squint at him, scathing retort on the tip of your tongue, but when you see that he's smirking at you, the words dry up. 

 "Don't play dumb, Zacharias."

 "I'm not playing anything," he tells you. "But, I do need to know how long we're gonna keep up this I don't know you-you don't know me thing."

 "You literally just said—..." Taking a deep breath, you look over your shoulder to, one, form a coherent sentence in your brain, and two, make sure no one is close enough to hear it when you say, "What would you prefer we do? Not like we can just pick up where we left off. Unless, you know, you wanna go back to being incredibly fucking pissed at me for months on end."

 "Man, you really are tense about this," Mike chuckles, and you're torn between slapping him and jumping his bones, so you do neither. Fuck, why'd he have to wear the purple tie today? It looks so good with his complexion and complements his eyes. A few strands of hair have come loose from the bun at the back of his head, and he shakes them out of his face like he used to shake his shaggy bangs, and all you can do is stare and squirm and tell him, "I have to go."

 "Go where?" He asks, standing from his chair. It feels like he towers over you even from across the table. 

 You hold your hands out and gesticulate a little frantically, "I don't know—work? Maybe?"

 He's extremely amused, even laughs as you make your way out the door, then calls, "Whenever you're ready to talk, just let me know! You know where my office is."

 "I don't wanna talk!"

 You really don't. But, you also really do. 

 *

 Mike starts having fun with his new department (you specifically) around the third week. 

 He's never seen you like this before, having to mentally prepare yourself before you walk into any room, like you have to be ready for him. You nibble on your lip and rock on your heels. Your hands shake in meetings when you have to point to pictures or graphs. 

 It’s just so unlike you. He got so used to the surly, uncaring girl in college, never happy to see Mike until you gave him a fair chance (and decided you enjoyed his cock). He expects everything to come out of your mouth to be sarcastic or suggestive, and when it's not, it takes him off guard.  

 Mike is nervous around you too. He can easily admit that. But, his neverending panic really just manifests in the form of nausea and heart palpitations which he thinks is better than trembling and stuttering, but it's still mildly distracting. 

 Every once in a while, he catches a glimpse of that old side of you, though, a mumbled smartass remark or an unimpressed expression, and he has to make a conscious effort to not grin like an idiot because he's still trying to decipher his actual feelings. 

 Is he supposed to act like nothing ever happened, or should he hold a grudge? What seems more natural? What feels more natural? 

 Mike knows the answer to that last question, but he hasn't fully accepted it. 

 "It's kinda cute, actually. Like, I walk into the room and she gets this little doe-eyed expression. Looks like she's about to run away."

 "You're kind of a sadist, you know that?" Erwin says. 

 "I mean, is it so wrong to get a little satisfaction outta this?" 

 "I think so, yeah. You're driving her crazy, dude."

 Mike smacks his lips and rolls his eyes. "Man, how would you know—"

 "'Cause she told me!" Erwin basically shouts like it's obvious. "The words came out of her mouth. Mike is driving me crazy. Just like that."

 Pouting, Mike takes another sip of his beer and lets his eyes travel to the bottom of the TV screen to check the score of the game he isn't watching. 

 "Well, it's not like I can really do anything about it. She'll only be here for a few months."

 "Do you happen to know how long it takes for a stomach ulcer to form?" Erwin asks. 

 Mike frowns. "Uh, no?" 

 "Well, neither do I, but I'm pretty sure it's not very long."

 Both of them laugh. Mike mutters something about Erwin being fucking stupid, and then Erwin sighs and speaks, "I am begging you, dude. Please just get a fucking drink with her or something."

 "We don't mix well with alcohol," Mike snarks. 

 "What's the worst that could happen—you end up in bed again?"

 "Well—"

 "Honestly, both of you could probably benefit from a good fuck, but what do I know? I'm just the guy both of you call for this shit."

 "Alright, I get it. I'll… see if she's up for something," Mike mumbles. 

 "I mean, I wouldn't open with sex, maybe start off with lunch or…"

 "I'm hanging up now."

 Mike doesn't actually know how to ask you, though. You're so fucking skittish around him, and you're obviously worried about people finding out you have a history, so he's gonna have to be strategic about it, maybe plant the seed a few days before or—

 "Hey, listen…" You appear in Mike's office doorway, long cardigan falling to your knees and swishing behind you even after you've stopped moving. "I know it's almost five, but I'm, like, right in the middle of mapping out a new plan, and I don't wanna lose steam, so is it cool if I stay late?" 

 "Yeah, I don't care," Mike answers, tacking on, "S'long as you're okay with being here late with me."

 "Oh, th-that's—" you splutter for a little while, and Mike raises his eyebrows. "That's n-not necessary. You don't have to, like, supervise me or anything."

 "I'm not supervising you," Mike snorts. "I'm trying to finish my piece for a journal."

 "Ah, right, that's… yes." You shoot off a half-hearted finger gun, and Mike wants to hop his desk to get to you. There you are. There are your dumb fucking mannerisms, please, just act like yourself, for the love of god. 

 "Okay, well if you need me, uh, I will probably be on the floor in the annex, so…"

 "We do have chairs, ya' know," Mike smirks. 

 "Yeah, but it's easier to just spread everything out so I can see it."

 "Want a corkboard? You can make it look like you're doing a murder investigation."

 "Hmm, might make it look more official," you muse, making a face of contemplation. 

 Before you can actually say yes, Mike pipes up again. "I don't actually have a corkboard. It was a joke."

 "Yeah, I know," you snicker. "Wouldn't be big enough anyway."

 Too many responses flood Mike's brain at once, causing him to bite his tongue because every last one of them is gross, but you must be able to read it on his face because you point and tell him, "Stop."

 "I didn't say anything!" He laughs. 

 "You don't have to. I know."

 Mike rolls his eyes, "Okay," and looks back to his computer, hoping the screen is high enough to hide his grin as you turn and walk away. 

 The next hour is spent editing the same paragraph over and over with no real motivation because everyone has vacated the floor except for you and Mike, and this could be a good time to talk to you, but he also doesn't want to disrupt your work. Just because he can't focus doesn't mean you can't. You'd only get upset if he distracted you from your work anyway—it's happened before—redirecting your attention from a textbook or study guide to… other things. 

 He goes down a rabbit hole, reminiscing on those occasions, then tweaking them just a little to fit into the current setting, and it's the absolute last thing Mike should be thinking about, but it's Friday, and you're slightly more casual in your flowy cardigan and tight jeans, and all he wants is to get one teeny tiny look at your ass in them because he knows your it’s perfect. He's seen it in leggings and cheeky little boy shorts and lacy thongs, and there is absolutely no way he can go out to talk to you now. 

 Also, he really needs to write at least one paragraph before leaving tonight. It's all about water and waste and pollutants which is the shit Mike knows like the back of his hand. He'd just rather have said hands on something else. 

 "Yeah, this isn't gonna happen," he mutters to himself, taking his hair down to scratch at his scalp. He's better off just going home. 

 Mike packs a few things up before stepping out of his office, closing and locking the door behind him. Half the lights are off, but the portion over the annex is shining brightly. Mike stares in that direction as he debates telling you he's leaving or bolting without saying anything. 

 It's the thought of you walking out to your car alone that makes his mind up, and Mike saunters to the annex and finds you on hands knees surrounded by several sketches, crumpled notes, and the set of blueprints that Mike is pretty sure got thrown in the recycling on Tuesday. 

 "Where'd you even find those?" 

 You don't look up when you answer, "Recycling comes every Monday."

 "So, you went… dumpster diving?" 

 Lifting your head, you squint up at Mike, tracking him as he squats on the other side of your organized chaos. 

 "Is it dumpster diving if it's all paper?" 

 Mike shrugs. "Dunno. How's it comin'?"

 "I'm comi—It!" You correct a little too loudly. "It's coming! It's coming along just fine."

 "Yeah?" Mike chuckles. "Cute Freudian slip there."

 "It was not—" You grit your teeth, fingers curling on the papers they're resting on, then question, "Did you need something?"

 "Just came by to say I was leaving," Mike tells you. Something catches his eye, though, some of your notes scribbled just big enough for him to read a few of the words from where he is, and he grabs the sheet to look it over more carefully. 

 Irrigation plans, specialized pumps, introducing new life into the lake, specifically filter fish…

 "I was just vomiting ideas out on paper, it's nothing important."

 Mike hums and reads further. Some of it is familiar because Mike has considered some of these himself, but while your engineering thoughts are a little vague, the ideas that lean more toward the biological side of things are pretty interesting, even if they're just sloppy bullet points and arrows. 

 "You wanna vomit on a person instead?" He asks, chuckling at the look you give him. 

 "Ew."

 "Just spitball. Throw it at me."

 "Oh, I'm gonna throw somethin' at you all right."

 Mike slips his bag from his shoulder and sets it down before sitting on the ground, picking up the papers closest to him. 

 "Tell me about the xylem tissue method," he prompts. 

 You don't speak right away, just chew on your lip while staring at the sketches on the ground, but then you nod and sit back on your heels. 

 "So, we know that white pine trees are a natural means of filtering, but there aren't any around here. I know it's more of a long-term plan, but we can't just go with a temporary fix, so I was thinking—"

 Mike listens. To everything. Everything you can think of. He watches too. You rub your hands over your jeans and flick hair from your eyes. You change positions, sitting on one foot while resting your chin on your knee as you think out loud, then move to sit cross-legged only to get up to pace the length of the cubicle, barefoot since your heels were kicked off long ago. 

 He asks questions or makes suggestions here and there, and soon it isn't just you who's brainstorming.

 It's easy. It's what Mike knows, and it's obviously what you know too, and a couple of hours pass before either of you realize it. 

 "Shit, it's almost ten," you state, looking at your phone. "Sorry, I didn't mean to keep you here so late."

 "It's fine. Wouldn't have stayed if I didn't want to."

 Mike stretches as he stands, twisting to crack his back and rolling his neck. You gather up all the papers, straightening them into a neat pile then putting them in a drawer at the bottom of your desk. 

 You walk out together, still chatting in the elevator and out to the parking lot, and Mike feels good. He feels like… He feels like he did in college. 

 "Please tell me that is not your car," you say, eyeing the boxy, white Mercedes that is, in fact, Mike's. 

 "What of it?" 

 "These fucking Jeeps are so ugly, I cannot believe—"

 "Uh, it's not a Jeep. It's a g-wagon, thank you."

 You roll your eyes. "I liked your Wrangler better."

 "I bet you fuckin' did," he mumbles, too lost in the memory of you riding him in said Wrangler to think about how you might take the comment. 

 "It was easier on the eyes," you explain. 

 "It was a frat boy car."

 "You were a frat boy!" 

 "And, now I'm a professional."

 "Are you, though?" You tease, expression skeptical save for your tiny smirk. 

 "Most of the time."

 The only other vehicle in the lot is a Land Rover, considerably larger than the little hatchback you used to drive but very fitting for someone in your line of work. Mike thinks about mentioning that it's basically the same as his Mercedes, just not as expensive and with rounder edges, but he knows you'll just get indignant and defensive. 

 He walks you over to your car, and you don't question it, just open the passenger side and throw your bag inside. 

 This is your chance, Mike realizes. Just ask. Ask her to go somewhere else and talk about something other than work.

 "Hey, uh, do you wanna grab a drink or something?" He tries, heartbeat picking up once again. His eyes are a little too wide as you regard him carefully, studying him like one of your samples.

 Then, you shake your head. 

 "No, Mike. I don't wanna grab a drink." His stomach opens up, the heat that comes with embarrassment creeping up his neck. 

 "Oh, sorry, I just—"

 "But, there's a breakfast place close to the extended stay they put us up in. I've been wanting to check it out."

 And, like that, his hope is restored. Hope for what, Mike doesn't know, but it's certainly there, blooming in his chest like unkempt wildflowers. 

 "Yeah?" 

 You nod. "Yeah. I'm still not really a morning person, but d'you wanna meet there at, like, ten or so?" 

 "Tomorrow?" 

 "I mean, if that works for you."

 "Yeah!" Mike clears his throat, lowers his voice so that he sounds a little less excited. "I'm usually up and moving by eight."

 "God, why do you hate yourself?" You cringe. 

 "I've always been an early riser."

 "Not from what I remember."

 Mike leans against your rover, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well, maybe not when I was kept up into the early morning hours, but usually I was up before everyone else."

 You post up across from him, one hand on your hip, and Mike realizes this is gonna go on for some time. 

 "Kept up? Like you didn't wanna be?"

 He's fine with that. He'll stand out here talking with you until the sun comes up if you'll let him. And, maybe after that too. 

 *

 Breakfast is good. Breakfast is safe. Breakfast is the start of the day and free of alcohol. There is nothing suggestive about breakfast. 

 Except breakfast has become a habit. For the last three Saturdays you’ve sat at the little cafe next to your hotel talking with Mike for at least an hour. You’re kind of getting to know him again, but most of the conversation consists of stupid jokes or blatant deflections. 

 His parents are still doing well, both in their sixties now, but Scout, unfortunately passed away a few years ago. Hearing it makes your eyes burn, and watching Mike’s face fall actually makes you wipe at your own rapidly forming tears. 

 He still keeps in touch with several of his frat brothers—Erwin (obviously), Nile, Gelgar, and some of the younger kids, Jean, Marco, and Connie.

 “Yeah, I’m actually pretty close to Marie now,” you tell him. “And, Maddie, and Rhi.”

 “Rhi?” He looks incredibly surprised.

 “Yeah,” you laugh. “Bonded over the woes of college boys.”

 “Didn’t see that coming.”

 “Neither did I, honestly.”

 Working with him is easier now. The ice has been broken. The boundaries have been set even if they are unspoken. You still do your best not to touch him at all, never stand too close or brush against him in any way, but you’ve loosened up a lot, and your team seems to appreciate it. Unfortunately, they also start to notice the way you light up a little too much whenever you’re around Mike, and naturally, Hange just had to comment on it a few days ago. 

 “You have a crush on the bossman or somethin’?”

 “What? No. We just work well together, I guess.”

 You do not tell Mike about this exchange, in fear of him prying. Well, do you have a crush on the bossman? You’re not ready for that, probably never will be. 

 There are a few breakthroughs in the Sina project. The research team gets extra funding to run more trials, and you start to stay late more often, sometimes in the tower with everyone else and sometimes in the lab. Things are progressing nicely. 

 Eventually, breakfast turns to lunch, lunch turns to dinner, and then you find yourself in Mike’s apartment, sitting at his kitchen table while he cooks.

 “So, we talk every once in a while now, but it’s usually really awkward. Like, I still don’t ever know what to say to him.”

 “Do you find it weird that he reached out in the first place?”

 “Kind of? When I was younger, I always hoped he would, but now that he has, I almost wish he hadn’t. Does that make sense?”

 Mike shrugs as he pours noodles into a strainer over the sink. “I mean, he’s your dad, so yeah, it makes sense. What he did was super shitty, but I figure it’s hard to forget the good times and just abandon all hope.”

 “Yeah. On the bright side, he sends my brother money for commissary, like, every week, so that’s nice.”

 It took a little while, but you’ve let yourself open up to Mike much easier this time around. Whether it’s because you already know you can trust him or because you’ve gotten the closure you needed for so long, you’re not sure. You just know it’s been easy. 

 Unfortunately, with vulnerability comes feelings, and you are having a lot of those. Too many. You’re glad that it’s not debilitating dread and nervousness now, but the overwhelming affection isn’t any less distracting.

 Watching Mike move around his kitchen, though—clad in a t-shirt, faded jeans, and the dish towel thrown over his shoulder, you are painfully reminded of why you got so attached all those years ago. 

 It isn’t fair. You really didn’t want to fall back into this hole. You knew it was a possibility as soon as you saw him at that first meeting, but you were trying to put it off until you had to leave. 

 Because that’s the plan. You come in. You complete the project, get them started on a long-term plan for the lake, then head back to your home facility and wait for another job to be assigned. You can’t just stay here, even if the idea gets a little more tempting every day. 

 You’re just friends, though, just spending time together because it’s familiar. It’s nice being back on the same page, just letting the past stay there.

 “So, it’s been about two months,” Mike starts, and something about his tone makes your stomach drop. “I feel like that’s an appropriate amount of time to wait before finally addressing the elephant in the room.”

 So much for letting the past stay there. 

 Groaning, you rub your hands down your face. “Do we really have to?” Of course he would want to talk about it now that you’re comfortable.

 “I really think we do.”

 “Mike, that was so long ago. I was a dumb fucking kid. What do you need to know other than that?”

 He braces himself on his counter, face serious. “Nothin’ really. I just want you to know that I was a dumb kid too.”

 “Yeah, and we’ve grown since then and gotten over it, right?”

 He lets out a long sigh. “I had gotten over it, but working with you every day has kinda... brought some things back to the surface.”

 Staring at him, you swallow and try to stay calm. You know where he’s coming from, and it’s a little comforting to know that he’s been experiencing at least some of the emotions that you have been, but you don’t know whether or not it’s a good thing. 

 “I get it. I’ve been struggling too, but there’s nothing we can really do about it.”

 You’ve thought about just taking the plunge and sleeping with him again. It would be nice—really fucking nice—but it would only make things worse. 

 “I guess. It’s been cool to hang out again, but…” Mike chews on his lip for a moment before finishing, “We’ve never been good at just hanging out.” 

 The reminder makes your skin prickle with heat, and you shift in your chair, reeling in your thoughts before they run wild. 

 “Yeah. If it would be easier to just not hang out, I’d understand.”

 He turns back to the stove to stir something and turn on the vent then twists back around. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

 “Then, what are you saying?”

 Mike makes a little disgruntled noise, hanging his head like he’s getting frustrated. “I’m saying some days are hard. I tried to keep some distance, but that lasted for about a week, and now you’re here, and even though you’ve changed some, you’re still you, and I’m still me, and… Some days are just hard.”

 Some minutes are hard, you think to yourself. You can be going about your day like someone who isn’t completely fucking smitten, and then you see Mike, and he nods or grins and suddenly all you want is to be alone with him and trace over his lips with yours, feel his hands on you, run your fingers through his long hair. 

 “If I could take those feelings away from you, I would,” you tell him, and it’s apparently the wrong thing to say because he frowns.

 “Do you not feel the same way then?”

 Your reply is almost instantaneous. “Christ, Mike, of course I feel the same! I was in love with you! I didn’t know how to show it back then, but that’s what it was, so yeah, I feel it too, but there’s no point in—in analyzing it or turning it into something—”

 “You were in love?”

 “Dude. Yes. It took me a while to realize it—like, way too long—but yeah. Definitely love. Junior and senior year wouldn’t have sucked so much if it was just lust or infatuation or something.”

 “Sorry.”

 “Don’t be,” you wave him off. “I fucked up. You had every right to be pissed.”

 “I could’ve handled it better,” he mutters.

 You shake your head. “Dumb kids, remember?”

 Mike looks genuinely upset, and you don’t know what to say anymore, so you get up from the kitchen table and walk over to him. You have to physically urge him to turn and face you, but once he does, you wrap your arms around his torso and sigh. He immediately locks his wrists behind your back, resting his chin on your head, and it feels familiar and right and a little bit like home. You can smell the fabric softener that clings to his shirt and the fresh scent of his deodorant, different from what he used to wear, but that doesn’t make it bad.

 “Can we wait for a while longer before we decide to act like dumb kids again?” You ask.

 Mike chuckles above you. “You say that like you’re positive we will.”

 You’re just being realistic, and you tell him as much. The chances of you leaving the city without having sex at least once are slim to none. You figure the two of you will break and indulge in one of those ‘just for old time’s sake’ fucks, but if Mike keeps talking to you like this, admitting feelings and what not, you’re gonna lose it much faster than you’d originally planned. 

 “Yeah.” You feel him nod. “Yeah, we can wait.”

 When he kisses the top of your head, you almost give up then and there. 

 *

 This fucking sucks. Everything sucks. Mike was never one of those people who looked back on college as his glory days, never really had the desire to go back to it, but now he feels like he’s reliving them because he’s back to being twenty-one and obsessed with a girl—being obsessed with you. 

 It wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t know that you felt it too, but you admitted it, so now the only thing that’s stopping the two of you from exploring that avenue is, what, fear? Again?

 He gets it. He does. You don’t want to fall into something serious only to leave, but it’s possible to navigate relationships like that. Long distance-works. There’s technology for that like phones and video chats and sex toys. Then, there’s always the option of just relocating. It would be drastic, but Mike isn’t against the idea. Arrangements would have to be made, but he could swing it. It’s a little crazy so early on, but...

 He’s not gonna push it, not in a blatant way, but he’s gonna try his damndest to make it harder for you to go. He grows bold enough to start touching you more. A hand on the small of your back as you leave a room together, an arm around your shoulders when you watch TV over dinner, tucking hair behind your ear (“God, that used to be Erwin’s, like, go-to move.”). It’s fucked up because he knows your colleagues are asking about it, that he’s subjecting you to their interrogations, but he can’t help himself. He can’t stop.

 It definitely has an effect on you. You get flustered every time, can’t look at Mike for a while, and he hopes it’s because you’re thinking about other ways he could touch you—has touched you—f you’d just give him the chance.

 He thinks he has the patience to keep it up, wind you up more and more every day until you spin out of control and into his bed. You’re still spending time with him outside of work, still sharing pieces of yourself, and you’re not stopping him from putting his hands on you. so it’s only a matter of time.

 It comes to a head in his apartment after dinner. It’s so simple, something Mike didn’t even do on purpose, but as you’re washing your hands, he comes up behind you and reaches past you for a paper towel. He puts a hand on your hip without thinking, and his chest presses against your back, and then you’re exhaling in one quick huff and squirming to turn around.

 “Okay.”

 “Okay, what?” Mike asks, confused as he takes a step back. 

 “Okay, I’m ready to act like a dumb kid.”

 You don’t even dry your hands, just curl your fingers into his shirt and gaze up at him with dilated pupils, and Mike is elated.

 “Oh, thank god, fuck, thank god.”

 He leans down, and you stand on your tiptoes, and when you meet in the middle and he feels your lips on his for the first time in almost a decade, he groans. 

 You pull him closer, tilt your head further back to give him better access, and Mike cradles it in his hands. He tries not to breathe too heavily, pant like a fucking dog, but he’s been waiting for this since he saw you again. Maybe before that. He thinks on some level he’s been waiting for this since he left you alone in the ranch house, a little voice nagging at him to go back, to fix things, and he just never did. 

 “This is stupid, this is so stupid,” you murmur against him. “Only gonna make things harder.”

 “Just stop thinking about it,” Mike replies, nipping at your bottom lip. He doesn’t want you to think about it because he doesn’t want to think about it otherwise he’ll blurt out everything he’s been stewing on for the last couple weeks, the possibility of a real relationship, of you staying or him going, and that's too much. 

 You both shed clothes on your way to the bedroom, a trail of shirts and pants until you’re naked and laid out for him, and Mike swears he just might cry because you’re so beautiful, just as he remembered with a little more meat on your hips and thighs, a new scar on your calf that he asks about before brushing his lips over it. That leg is already resting on his shoulder, and once he gets situated on his stomach, he throws the other one over himself.

 His mouth starts to water as he gazes at your pussy, so fucking pretty, hole fluttering when he spreads you open. You can’t answer his question about the injury as he lowers his face, pressing the flat of his tongue to the sensitive skin then dipping it inside of you. 

 “Oh, fuck.”

 You taste and smell and feel perfect, and the only thought in his mind is to devour you. He won’t stop until you’re crying, drool leaking from your mouth and your cunt. And, he knows exactly how to get you to that point. 

 Mike flicks over your clit until it grows firm against his tongue then sucks it into his mouth. The noise you make goes straight to his cock, and he starts to rut into the mattress to get some kind of friction. He can already feel precum dripping from his tip, knows you won’t be the only one getting messy tonight, but he doesn’t care. He’s never cared. 

 Mike only pulls away when your thighs start to tremble around his head, and it’s only to mark them with bruises. It reminds him of the last time, when you’d let him fuck you in a fit of desperation. It had been his undoing. He thought of that night for years, and now that he’s able to do it all again, he can’t help but confess, “Fuck, I’ve missed your pussy,” just before he spits on it. 

 Your chest is rising with every little whimper you release as your nails dig into your palms. He’s never been happier to have long arms, able to reach up and massage your tits, stretching his fingers out to span across your chest, thumb on one nipple, pinky on the other, and as he teases both of them, he moans at the fresh slick that coats his tongue. 

 “A finger,” you pant, “Give me a finger, fuck, at least one, please please please—”

 You’ve always been so cute when you babble. Mike can never say no when you talk to him like that, but after assessing and deeming you fit, he slides two fingers into you at once, still sucking your clit.

 You swear loudly, almost in surprise, but that doesn’t stop you from moving your hips, fucking yourself on every digit as your jaw drops open. 

 Mike wants to see your face—has to see it, so he licks up your body, stopping to tongue over your nipples as he goes. He never falters in his thrusting, still knows the exact angle he has to crook his fingers to hit your g-spot. Your back arches, and you plant your feet flat on the mattress to give yourself more leverage, more control. Mike smirks down at you, enjoying your euphoric expression as he grinds his palm against the bundle of nerves that is the key to making you fall apart. 

 “Oh my god—oh, god—fuck, Miche.”

 His breath catches in his throat. God, he hasn’t heard that in too long. He never told you, not that he ever had to, but hearing you call him that drove him crazy, made him fall further in love and lust at the same time, and hearing it now has the same effect.

 “Please,” you whine, then repeat it, spreading your legs to coax him deeper. “Fuck, I need you so bad, s-so bad.”

He’s in the perfect position to rub his cock over your stomach, smearing pre everywhere it touches. From the beginning, Mike has loved leaving traces of himself on you, always felt like he could almost smell it on your skin, like a sigil to ward off others.

 He places a soft kiss at the corner of one closed eye, then on the other, and when you open them to look at him, he sees that they’re filled with tears. 

 It makes him pause, but you keep riding his fingers and beg, “Don’t stop, please don’t stop, m’fine, just—”

 “Why're you crying then?" he grins, leaning down to lick your bottom lip. "Feel good?" 

 You nod, raising to your elbows to force your mouth against his, sliding your tongue inside then whining when Mike pulls away, but it's only to gather the spit in his mouth. When he kisses you again, he makes sure you take it all, pushing saliva past his teeth and onto your palette, and when you swallow, Mike makes a noise of satisfaction. 

 "That's my fuckin' girl."

 That wide, fuck-drunk smile he loves so much spreads across your face as you accept the praise you never would have when you were younger.

 Mike noses just under your ear then asks, "You ready for my cock?" 

 "Always,” you breathe. “Always ready for it."

 "Yeah?" You nod, face scrunching up, and Mike thinks there's a chance that you're—"Gonna come for me first?" 

 Your muscles are starting to tense, hips stuttering, and he can actually feel your pussy spasming around his fingers. 

 "Come on, baby, you can do it. Just—'

 Your eyes roll back as your body pulses. Mike's hand is coated with slick that he can't wait to lick off, and he fucks you with his fingers until you go limp. 

 He cleans his hand then slithers back between your legs to catch everything that's leaking from you. You release a pitiful moan when he traces a circle around your entrance then squeal when he rubs his beard over it. 

 "Jesus fuck!"

 "Sensitive?" He teases before crawling back up to kiss you. 

 Holding himself up with one arm, Mike takes hold of his cock, painfully hard at this point, and parts your wet folds with his tip. He slides it up and down, teasing both you and himself and gasping every time it just barely dips inside of you. 

 "Miche, please."

 "You sound good when you beg," he tells you. You've been doing an awful lot of that tonight. 

 "Good enough to fuck me?" 

 "Mm, maybe," he plays, but he's cut off when you lift yourself just enough to take his cockhead inside of you, squeezing it so that he swears. 

 It completely dismantles any self-control Mike thought he had, and he gives you everything he has in a single thrust that makes you scream his name. 

 "You asked for it," he tells you, starting to pull out. 

 You grip his biceps, shaking your head. "J-just stay still for a—oh god, oh god…"

 Mike doesn't move, lets you adjust while he enjoys the way your cunt clenches around his cock. You're panting, eyebrows knit together, and apologize, "Sorry, give me… a minute. Been a while since I've taken anything this s-size."

 It's juvenile, but Mike's chest still puffs a little when you tell him that, and that feeling only grows when you give him the go ahead to move and he pulls out to see that his cock is already covered in white cream.

 Breathing out a quiet, "Fuck," he slowly pushes back in, mesmerized by the way it creates a thick ring at the base. "So pretty," he mutters, rubbing a thumb over the skin that's stretched around him. "Such a pretty pussy."

 He lets a string of spit drip from his mouth and onto your clit then strokes the swollen bud in circles, the pad of his fingers brushing over the tiny hole that makes you twitch every time. 

 Mike falls into a very slow, deep rhythm, torturing you as he drags his cock over every inch of your satin walls. Tiny gasps are pushed from your throat with every thrust, growing louder when Mike sits back on his heels and pulls your hips up to meet his. It leaves you helpless, only able to claw at the blankets, but your efforts are half-hearted, the press of Mike's cockhead against your g-spot obviously making it hard to do just about anything. 

 "I—I—I—..."

 "You what, baby?" He coos while admiring how big his hands look where they wrap around your waist, holding you mostly still as he drives his cock in and out of you. 

 Your cunt is pulsing again, so tight around him as it drips with slick and cream. The sounds it's making, an obscene balance of suction and squelching, has Mike shaking over you because it's so lewd but so familiar, and god, he has missed this. 

 And, you're right. It's stupid because he's just putting himself in the same place he was in ten years ago, but now he's a grown fucking adult, able to handle himself better, communicate better, fuck you better. 

 Tears leak from the corners of your eyes when he picks up his pace, and he groans when he presses in just a little too far, cockhead nudging against the wall deep inside of you. Your eyelids flutter, toes curling where your feet dangle and shake on either side of Mike. 

 His hips start to snap against yours, his balls swinging every time, and Mike remembers how nice it felt when they'd slap against your clit, the way you'd sing for him, and well…

 "Turn over," he breathes, pulling out and helping as you get to your hands and knees. 

 He takes the time to appreciate the view, letting the weight of his cock settle on your back just to get a visual of how much you take of it, what it might look like deep in your ass and what it would be like to see your stomach bulge from it. 

 Another day.

 Not wasting any more time, Mike sheathes himself inside you once again, spreading your cheeks and spitting on your puckering hole so that he can press against it with a thumb. 

 Your pussy opens up for him, like your body is begging him for more, so Mike fucks you harder, faster, slipping the tip of his finger into your asshole so that you tense up and say his name drunkenly. 

 His heavy balls hit your clit over and over, making you squirm and swear, head hanging back in an invitation, so Mike uses his free hand to grab you by the hair, pulling and glancing at what he can see of your face to make sure he isn't hurting you too much. 

 That grin is back, crooked and shiny with drool you keep having to suck back from your teeth. Mike hasn't felt this good having sex in god knows how long (he knows exactly how long it's been), and he thinks out loud, "Always take my cock so well. Always been able to…"

 "Feels so good, Miche," you cry, "You feel so fucking good, oh my god."

 He takes you like this until you can't hold yourself up anymore, elbows buckling underneath you, and all he does then is fall onto his back and pull you with him, letting you ride him like this and dragging his nails down your spine. It curves under his touch, arching and bowing as you lean forward to plant your hands between his legs and bounce on him. 

 Mike has a perfect view from this angle, huffing at the way your puffy lips open for him, clinging to his cock and dripping gossamer strands. Pressure slowly starts to build in both his gut and his balls, a hot sensation that grows, making him feel full and swollen and fuck, he can't wait to fill you up, can't wait to see you sloppy with his cum again. 

 But, not yet. Not yet. 

 Pushing you until you move off of him, Mike grabs his pillows and shoves you down on them, kissing you again before burying his face between your legs. Your hands are immediately in his hair, and he smiles when you tug at it a little harshly, using the strands as a means to guide Mike right where you want him. Even though he's taking this little break to let himself calm down, he can't help but press his hips to the mattress. He's hot and throbbing and dripping pre, ready but not ready to unload everything inside of you. He doesn't want it to end too soon, wants to savor every second because you're here crying and pleading for him, pushing yourself against his face only to pull back when he sucks on your clit. 

 He's able to fit three fingers inside of you now, keeps licking and fucking you until you whisper a slew of curses and start to warn him, "You're gonna make me—" breaking into a high-pitched moan as you squirt into his mouth and all over his hand. 

 "Fuck yes, again, come on, baby, do that again."

 Mike coaxes another out of you, groaning at the feeling of you dripping down his face and chuckling at the way you shiver and sit up. Your eyes are barely open, head swaying back and forth, but you plant a hand on his chest with the confidence of someone who doesn't look like they're about to pass out, shoving him back until he lays down. 

Straddling him, you sink down on his cock and bite your lip as you rock back and forth for a few seconds. Mike can feel fluid dripping over his pelvis, murmurs, "So messy," while pulling you down for a lazy kiss. 

 He lets you ride him, lets you think you're in control for a while until your legs start to get tired, rhythm becoming slower, and then Mike takes over. He lifts and drops you to his content, hips meeting yours as he fucks up into you. Your own hands cup your tits, pinching your nipples and putting on a show as you bounce up and down. 

 "You're so good," you breathe. "So fucking good to me, god, Miche, right there."

 He's on the brink, so close to his climax, but he holds back, giving it to you just the way you want it until it starts to hurt, and then he grunts, "'m gonna come, baby, I have to. Fuck, please, please, let me—"

 "Yes, yes, wanna feel you…"

 Mike's head sinks further into the pillow as his hips move without any thought on his part. He spills inside of you, hot ropes of cum filling your cunt so that it starts to leak out around him, then shooting even more inside of you. 

 "Jesus fucking—"

 Your muscles clench, squeezing and milking him until Mike starts groaning and twitching from overstimulation. 

 He could die right here and now and be totally fine with it. He really could. But before he can let that happen... 

 Mike urges you back, letting you get situated on your pillows again as he gazes at your stretched pussy and everything dripping out of it. 

 As soon as you stop moving, Mike is working his tongue inside of you. He can taste both himself and you, feel it coat his tongue as he drinks in as much as he can before sliding up to your face and taking your chin so you'll open your mouth. 

 The first drop makes you open wider, sticking your tongue out so that Mike can fill your mouth with his cum and spit, and the fact that you let him is so incredibly arousing, he just might fuck you until he's coming dry. 

 The little pattern is repeated a few times, Mike licking your pussy then spitting everything into your mouth, but he leaves some for lubrication, shoving the last of his cum back inside you when he starts fucking you on his fingers. He keeps you pliant, sucking on your clit so that he can slowly ease his pinky into your ass, and it isn't long before you're letting out breathy little sounds and tensing underneath him. 

 He takes care of you through your orgasm, looking at your face from where he lays. You're so pretty when you come, mouth open, eyebrows high, the picture of ecstasy, and Mike wants to remember it forever. He wants to keep you like this forever. 

 You shudder when he pulls his fingers from you, whine when he slowly laves over your sensitive pussy with his tongue, but after several long licks, Mike crawls back up to lay next to you. 

 "God damn," you laugh. "I had almost forgotten how good you are."

 Mike smirks, kissing your temple and nipping the shell of your ear. "Almost?"

 You nod, a spent smile making your lips curl. "I don't think I could ever fully forget even if I wanted to."

 Humming, he traces fingers over your stomach, now sticky from the mess of precum he had basically slathered you with. 

 "Yeah, we were pretty good for each other when we weren't being stupid," he muses. 

 He should probably step away for a few minutes, hop in the shower and wait for the flood of chemicals in his brain to fall away. 

 "We were, weren't we?" 

 "Mhm."

 Mike dips to press his face into your neck. He just can't stop touching you, can't stop breathing you in. He needs to memorize everything about this—how soft you are underneath him, how you smell like sex and sweat and your perfume, how quiet your voice is when you speak to him. 

 He feels your body rise and fall with a heavy sigh, and he's about to ask if you want to rinse off, but you open your mouth first, thoughtful when you tell him, "I loved you so much, Miche."

 "I know," he replies. Even if he couldn't see it then, he can now. You may not have told him to his face, but if Mike had been just a little smarter back then, he would have realized you were telling him in different ways. "I loved you too."

 He feels you pet his hair, probably a tangled wreck from being pulled. "I, uh…" You swallow hard, and Mike rests his chin on the hand on your chest, your heart beating against his palm a little too fast. 

 "You wanna shower before you say whatever you're about to?" 

 He knows what you're about to tell him. He just wants to make sure you don't regret it when you come back to yourself. "Yeah, probably."

 Both of you leave the bed on unsteady legs, Mike leading you to the shower and setting it to your favored temperature. He stands under the spray with you, taking the brunt of the water while kissing you. You move slowly, tangling your tongue with his, mapping out his body with exploratory hands. 

Mike is the one to break away after several minutes, insisting on soaping you up and dragging his loofah over your skin. He even sinks to his knees, gentle as he cleans your thighs and between them, careful not to get suds anywhere they're not supposed to be. When he’s finished, Mike presses a kiss to your pelvic bone before standing again, grinning when you pull him back to your face. 

 He doesn't have the same, short refractory period he used to otherwise he'd fuck you against the tiled wall, but he's content to stay like this, sucking on your lip and pressing against you. 

 Even after you've been given the chance to get your thoughts in order, you still blink up at Mike, water droplets dotting and falling from your eyelashes as you tell him, "I love you. I still love you. I don't think I can stop."

 He holds your head in his hands, brushes his nose against yours as his chest swells with more emotion than he thinks he can actually handle, and his own confession is easy: "I love you, too." Another soft peck to your lips before he adds, "I think you already knew that, though."

 "Wasn't positive."

 Mike knows there are logistics to consider, but the two of you can work on that later. For now he just wants to finish rinsing off and crawl into bed with you. 

 He should probably change the sheets, though, and find you pajamas, so Mike does exactly that as you traipse back out to the kitchen for some water, wearing absolutely nothing and making him bite his lip. 

 He puts new bedding on the mattress, then digs through his dresser for a t-shirt and boxers. Something catches his eye, printed material that almost makes him laugh out loud. He doesn't know why he still has the shorts, especially since he ruined the shirt a long, long time ago, but he's so glad he does. 

 Pink and covered in palm trees, he can't even fit into them any more, but it's fine. He thinks he knows how he can repurpose them. 

 But first, he needs to call his mom. 

 *

 It's an easy fix, really. Before the Sina project even comes close to wrapping up, Mike finds a place for you in his department, something you hadn't thought possible, but apparently he's kind of a big deal in the field. 

 When he makes you the job offer in the conference room, he's able to keep it professional for a whole three minutes before you agree to the terms, and then he's out of his chair and picking you up to swing around. Just like that, the whole fucking office knows about the two of you. 

 "Ha! You owe me fifty bucks, Moblit!" Hange shouts for everyone to hear, and you shake your head as the quiet man asks if he can Venmo them. 

 "I fucking knew it! I knew there was something going on! God, that's so satisfying. I'm not even mad that you're leaving us."

 "It's been going on for a long time now," you snort. 

 Hange leans against the wall and wriggles their eyebrows, "Yeah, what, like, the whole three months we’ve been here?" 

 "Try ten years," Mike mutters, and the eyes behind Hange's glasses nearly roll out of their head. 

 You and Mike have to sign a few things, contracts and couples disclosures and what not, but you don't mind. 

 The first thing you do is ask for a few days off in order to move, and Mike naturally does the same to help. You live just over three hours away, but are able to recruit some help in the form of your old friends. 

 You let out a shrill scream when you see Erwin step out of his car outside of your apartment complex, all but throw yourself into his arms so that he laughs and squeezes you tight against him. It's been a couple years since you've actually seen him, the distance between you just a little too far, but it's so nice to stare at his stupid face again. 

 Nile is also there with a very pregnant Marie on his arm, and Hitch and Rhi arrive as all the guys are carrying down the first load of packed boxes. 

 "Damn, it has been a long time since we've all been together," you say, looking around at everyone and grinning after you tape up another set of cardboard flaps. 

 "Yeah, kinda weird how we all just get along now," Hitch giggles. 

 "It's almost like we're adults or something," Rhi adds. 

 You pass her the box, but she just groans and passes it to Erwin. 

 Everyone takes turns making trips to Mike's apartment, and the moving effort takes three days in total. You really need to find a way to repay all of them, maybe suggest a nice dinner. 

 "God, why do you own so much shit, babe?" Mike asks after loading the last shelves of a bookcase into his car (that you still hate). 

 "Because everything has sentimental value. Don't judge me."

 "Oh, I'm judging. When'd you get so soft?"

 You roll your eyes and reach past him to close the trunk door. 

 The others are all standing in the parking lot with you, antsy and excited for the two of you, or so you assume. 

 "I really can't thank you guys enough. You've made this so much easier," you tell them. 

 Erwin grins widely and pulls you into a hug, and to your surprise, Hitch slides around you to hold you from behind. It makes you laugh and call them dumb, but when they step back, you're hit with the realization that they weren't just being goofy; they were strategizing, keeping you shielded from Mike who is now kneeling on the asphalt and chewing on his bottom lip. 

 Your eyes grow wide, and you step back only to run straight into Erwin's chest. He puts two, grounding hands on your shoulders, and you can almost feel his smile as Mike reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box. 

 A small pink box. 

 A small pink box with pieces of fucking palm trees wrapping around it. 

 "Did you get that fucking upholstered?" You shout, and Mike lets out a giddy laugh, his eyes so narrow from grinning that you can barely see the green. "I don't even wanna open it. I cannot believe—"

 "Good thing you don't have to open it then," he chuckles. “I do.”

 "You are fucking impossible, you know that?" 

 "Yeah," he agrees before prying the ridiculous box apart and revealing a ring that makes you tear up. 

 It isn't huge, but it's far from plain, sparkling stones wrapping around it with a larger, round cut in the middle. It's extremely pretty and very you, and oh, you wanna put it on, you wanna put it on right now. 

 "Don't look too impressed. Mom helped me pick it out, and it’s all ethically sourced, of course," Mike says, and you wipe your eyes while giggling. 

 "Oh my god, she's crying!" Rhi yells. 

 "Shut up, it's because of that atrocious box."

 Mike looks behind you at Erwin. "I knew she'd love it."

 "Yeah, good call, bro."

 "I hate both of you."

 "Still gonna marry me, though, right?" Mike is still grinning, but you can see the barest hint of worry in his eyes, and you can't blame him because this is big. This is commitment. Marriage. He wants you to marry him. 

 And, some will say it’s too quick, that you’ve only been actually dating for a couple of months, but it makes sense because if you’re being honest, you never really fell out of love with Mike. He’s always been nestled deep in your heart.

 "Against my better judgement," you smirk. 

 He stands up quick enough to make himself dizzy, has to brace a hand on his car as he kisses you. 

 "Finally!" Erwin shouts, clapping his hands and being joined by the others. 

 Mike slides the ring from the terrible box, pushes it onto your finger with shaky hands, and when you admire it in the sun, you look at him and nod. "Very nice, Zacharias. Even in the parking lot setting."

 "I just wanted everyone to be here! If we went somewhere fancy, you would've figured it out."

 That's true. Going to some nice restaurant or quaint little park would have definitely tipped you off. 

 "Also, you know once we're married, you will also be Zacharias."

 "Yeah," you nod thoughtfully. "Yeah, I guess I will be. Hey," you look at him with raised eyebrows. "Wanna shotgun beers at the wedding?" 

 Mike laughs loudly. "That is how it all started, isn't it?" 

 "Yeah, this stupid frat boy in a Hawaiian shirt came up to me and demanded I shotgun a room temp beer."

 "Sounds like an asshole," Mike chuckles. 

 You shrug as he pulls you into his chest and sigh into his shirt, "He turned out alright, I guess."

[thadelightfulone]

All I Want... 25 Days of Christmas Challenge, Day 8

Late Night - November 21st

“So, why aren’t you out with your friends tonight?” Erik asked as he set down his glass.

“I went out with them last night. That was enough for me.”

“Not really a club person?”

“Yes and no. I used to be. Once I decided to go for my doctorate, my priorities had to change.” DeeDee traded the wine glass for the water.

“So, Miss DeeDee used to be a problem?” Erik wiggled his eyebrows at her while she took a drink.

“I wouldn’t say all that, but I definitely forgot what the inside of my room looked like during undergrad. The next year, it was no more going out and doing hoodrat shit with my friends.”

They both laughed at her comment. 

“I understand that. I made the mistake of coming home to earn mine.”

“How was that a mistake? I figured you would have been glad to be back home.”

“I was and that was the problem. Everyone who I hadn’t seen in the 6 years that I was gone, wanted to make up for lost time.”

“Oh no,” DeeDee snickered, “So, how was your first year?”

“A struggle.” Erik laughed along with her. “Luckily, I’m a pretty smart guy and was able to get through the Introductory seminars even if I was a walking zombie the whole time.”

“Yeah, nope. Couldn’t have been me. My friends hated the change up, but I had to do it. I would not have survived my first year, and no one wants to get dropped like that.”

DeeDee picked up the laptop and turned to her left on the couch. She stretched her legs out into a comfortable position with a pillow on her lap and set the computer on top. 

Erik sipped on his whiskey as he watched DeeDee move around. He propped another pillow behind him and balanced the tablet on his bent knee.

“I agree.” He waited until she was settled, “So, besides your parents was there any other reason that you chose Southern?”

“Born and raised here in Baton Rouge. It was either here or LSU.” 

“You didn’t want to go to school out of state?”

“Nope. I knew my career would allow me to do research and travel, so I was always fine with staying as close to home as possible while I was in school.” She lifted her hoodie to show off the logo, “Don’t sleep on us.” DeeDee smiled and bounced around.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know all about you Southern girls.” He stuck his tongue out at her.

“You know what. I know that’s a compliment coming from you.” She flipped him off, “But how did an Oakland guy end up out here?”

“Family.” Erik nodded his head in thought, “My mother grew up in New Orleans and went to Southern, too.” 

“So, you’re a legacy kid, too. Sweet.” DeeDee smiled at him. 

Erik glanced across the room to where his parents’ picture sat and smiled. “Yes, I am. My parents met there, too. Before moving to Oakland together after they graduated.” 

“Awwww, your parents sound amazing.” DeeDee watched as Erik’s demeanor changed. He was no longer smiling, but his eyes seemed to gloss over. She watched as he looked away at something in the distance, “Erik, everything ok?” 

Erik looked back at the tablet and sniffed a little, “Yeah, I’m good. Sorry about that.”

“If you want to switch the topic, we can.” 

DeeDee’s concern touched him, but he knew this would come up eventually. Better to get it over with. 

“It’s ok. It’s part of the reason we met. Hold on,” Erik set his tablet down, walked over to the mantle and pulled the picture down. He sat back down on the edge of the couch and grabbed the tablet. “Here they are.” He focused the picture in front of the camera.

“WOW, you are a nice blend of them.” 

“Thank you, Miss DeeDee.” He winked at her from above the picture. 

“Don’t you start.” She pointed to the picture, “So, tell me about them.” 

“I guess how much I tell you is based on what you already know about my family.”

“Your family? Oh right, you mentioned that you work with them at the Centers.”

“Correct. What did you find out in your search?” Erik put the picture aside and refocused the tablet on him.

“The Centers were created to help build up local communities by providing resources and offering programs to the children and families. They are known for their science and tech departments, but also their various community efforts.” 

He nodded and watched as DeeDee’s face scrunched up. Erik let her talk it out.

“It was started by three members of the Royal Family of Wakanda in Africa. Let’s see there is the Queen Mother Ramonda, King T’Challa, his younger sister, Princess Shuri.” DeeDee ticked their names off on her fingers. “I’ve read about the former king and his brother, T’Chaka and N’Jobu. There is talk of a Prince, but not much is known about him.” Her voice dropped off. 

“5… 4… 3… 2…” 

“Wait, you’re royalty?” DeeDee looked up at him.

“I’ve never claimed my title, but yeah, something like that.”

“So, you’re the prince?” She said using air quotes on the last word. 

“Only if you want me to be.” Erik chuckled as DeeDee rolled her eyes.

“I liked the Dr. better, but since you don’t claim him either. I don’t know what to call you.” She shrugged her shoulders and bit her lip to stifle her laughter.

“Oh, I know something you can call me. But I don’t think we are there yet.”

Erik roared with laughter when DeeDee’s laptop tumbled off the pillow. 

“Why are you like this?” She drew out as she reached over to pick up her laptop. “You know what, don’t answer that. I want to know about your parents and your family.”

“No, no, please tell me. What am I like?” 

DeeDee straightened up her laptop and Erik was greeted by her scowl. 

“Come on, Miss DeeDee. Tell me what I am like.”

“First of all, I need you to stop looking at me like you want to eat me up.” 

“I mean, -”

“Aht aht aht. There is only one way I will let you complete that thought.” 

Erik caught DeeDee’s small smile. Oh, he knew what she wanted to know. He was surprised it took her so long to bring it back up. Or that she didn’t figure out the answer already based on their current interaction.  

“And you will let me complete that thought?”

“I guess.”

“Not good enough.”

“What?”

“I guess,” he mocked her tone, “is not good enough. I need a definitive answer.” 

Erik heard DeeDee’s sigh. 

“Yes or No, Miss DeeDee?”

“If you actually answer the question, then yes. You can finish whatever provocative statement was gonna cross your lips.” 

“So, you were looking at my lips?”

“ERIK!”

 He put his hands up, “Ok, ok. Ask the question and I promise I will answer.” 

“Thank you.” She cleared her throat, “Have you found the kind of love that your parents have?”

“Had.” Erik softly replied.

“What?” She looked at him, “Oh. Oh, I’m sorry. Nevermind.” DeeDee moved the laptop onto the couch and shifted her legs under her.

“It’s ok. What they had was amazingly beautiful. Watching their love up close and personal beat any romance movie ever. You know, black love and all that.”

DeeDee picked up the glass of wine and ran her finger around the rim. 

“And as you know, it is something I want for myself.” He inhaled deeply and then exhaled, “To answer your question, no, I have not found that kind of love yet. But I still have hope that I will find her and be worthy of her.”

She gulped down the rest of the wine and held onto the glass with both hands. 

“DeeDee?”

“Huh.” She slowly set it down on the table, “Yeah, I -- I’m here.” 

“Ok, I thought I lost you there for a second.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.” DeeDee whispered. “Thank you for finally answering the question, Erik.”

“You’re welcome, DeeDee.”

Erik watched her every movement. DeeDee stuffed her hands back into the pocket of her hoodie, then rocked back and forth on the couch. Her hood fell revealing her lovely face to him again. Minutes passed as they both looked at one another. Erik coughed to break the silence.

DeeDee dropped her head and then looked up, “You can finish your statement now.”

“The moment passed, but I am positive there will be plenty more opportunities to speak my mind.”

“You act like we are gonna talk again after this.” She looked away from the camera.

“Oh, you think I’m letting you off this call without getting your number? You are sadly mistaken.” Erik chuckled, “And why do you keep hiding yourself from me?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh really? So, you aren’t trying to hide a smile right now?” 

DeeDee took her hand and wiped the expression from her face, “What smile?”

“Ok, and you aren’t just hiding yourself in general under your hood?” Erik rubbed his hands together and nodded at her. He set the tablet off to the side and spoke, “So DeeDee, do you want that kind of love?”

“Of course, I do. My friends may think that I don’t want any kind of relationship, but that’s not true.” She paused, “I guess that is what made me search for you.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah, I truly wondered if you found it and what it was like, if you had.” DeeDee heard some shuffling in the background and when she looked at the screen, all she saw was the ceiling. It moved and then changed, like he entered another room. “What are you doing?”

“Getting hungry, so I decided to pull out my leftovers.”

“Oh ok.”

She could hear him open the refrigerator, verifying his story. The screen went black for a few seconds and then came back on. DeeDee reached for the strings to her hood.

“Don’t you dare.” Erik’s voice growled. 

“Why?” She squeaked, “Why are you doing this to me?”

“I’m not doing anything to you, Miss DeeDee.” 

“Yes, you are.”

“Ma’am, I am just eating a juicy strawberry.”

“With your shirt off, Sir.”

“I didn’t want to get juice on it.”

“You, Sir, are a mess.”

“A mess that has kept you smiling for the last hour or so. Or maybe was it all day?” 

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“I’m not. I’m just admiring you.”

She pointed to his chin. “You have a lil something on yo-”

Erik licked the juice off his chin. “Did I get it?”

“I can’t stand you.” DeeDee giggled.

“If that were true, you would have hung up by now.” Erik grabbed the bowl of fruit and returned to his spot on the couch. 

“Maybe I’m enjoying the view.”

“The view, but not the company?”

“I didn’t say that.” 

“So, what are you saying?”

DeeDee pulled the hood off her face, “I am enjoying my evening.” 

“So am I.” Erik grinned into the camera, “And thank you for sharing.”

Taglist: @teakturn @ghostfacekill-monger @shaekingshitup @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @woahitslucyylu @ladymac82 @bugngiz @eyeknowmywrites @ajspencer1892 @arafatih @issimplyaamazinggg @tchallasbabymama​ @killmonger-fics​

[lexpressobean]

Parent/Teacher Night: Ch 2, Remember When

In which Shino recalls some thens and compares them to the nows, and gets inspired to change some things with Kiba's encouragement.

*Modern AU, Swearing

**You can find this on AO3 now too, along with the first chapter. Let's gooooooooo!!!

•••

"He asked to trade numbers?" Kiba repeated, pausing all motion, chopsticks mid snatch for a gyoza.

"Yes. Is that... Weird?"

"Well, no."

Kiba reached over and chose his specimen, a plump piece just asking to be dipped. Shino continued eat his steamed rice. It was okay if Kiba wanted the last of the gyoza. Shino thought he might enjoy a serving of the restaurant's ice-cream after he finished his meat instead.

"But even I don't have Shikamaru's number. Least not his current one."

"You don't?"

"Nah," Kiba took in the gyoza whole and spoke as he chewed, "but ah neber bothered doo update it, I hab 'im on my socials anyway."

"Oh."

He swallowed, "But you didn't even have any kind of social media until later in college. You were late to the game!"

"I didn't see the point then..."

"And that's fine. He probably doesn't even know you have them now. But you know he's been pretty absent from social media too. Figures."

"According to Ino, he's been back in town since April."

"Well of course Ino would know, she's always been in everyone else's business. Especially Shikamaru's, and Choji's too!"

Shino silently made a face, distorting the corner of his mouth as if reluctant to agree, but Kiba barked out a laugh when he caught him.

"It's true though, isn't it!? You would know, Shino!"

Shino didn't plan to be seen, but oh well, "I think it's just her way of showing she cares. Those three are practically family, aren't they?"

Kiba sighed and rolled his eyes, "Listen, dude, just cause you 'dated' her for a couple of years back in college doesn't mean you have to be nice after the fact. It's okay! She has her manipulative bitchy side too. How else could she make it as a therapist."

"Psychiatrist."

"That."

Kiba emphasized the word "dated" in such a way that caused Shino to scowl. Geez, if Ino didn't insist on sharing pictures online...

"Don't invalidate my opinions just because you think they're biased, Kiba. Also, people grow from high school, don't be stuck in the past either."

"I'm not saying it's invalid, geez, but ever since you've always been soft on her..."

"Jealous?"

Kiba immediately threw a dirtied, crumpled up napkin at Shino's head as he blew raspberries in disbelief. Of course Shino dodged it.

"And that!" Kiba almost yelled, though he had a huge smile on his face, "You're sass meter has been off the charts since then!"

"I thought I was just asking a question," Shino simply replied, though he smiled too.

"Fucking jerk," he crossed his arms and closed his eyes, sighing dreamily, "Why would I be jealous when I'm with Tamaki now?"

Shino suppressed the urge to crinkle up his nose, "I remember back in high schoo-"

"THAT WAS HIGH SCHOOL!!" Kiba interrupted, not upset but voice almost breaking in both embarrassment and amusement simultaneously, "Now who's the one stuck in the past!"

"Well anyway, I was just curious if you had heard from him recently, because this was the first time I had seen him since he was an undergrad. That was a while ago."

"Same here, bud. But then here's a thought, if he's just working these days, and he's giving out his number to old friends, maybe we should all get together sometime! So why don't you also friend him on socials while you're at it?"

Shino paused and considered the suggestion.

Shino could do that. Actually, Shino could have done so a long time ago if he had wanted to. But for all the times he had seen Shikamaru's obvious username and cloud icon, he never sent friend request himself. He created his socials for the sole purpose of studygroup based messaging and had planned to delete his social media after school ended for good. But two months in and Kiba somehow found him, and then shortly after Hinata did too. Then Naruto also found Shino and from there he actually aquired a few more friend requests, including from Lee and Sai. Even Ino sent him a friend request, though Ino and Shino had actually attended the same University in the beginning. And then she called him out on it the next time she saw him in person, because how could Shino friend nearly all their mutuals and NOT Ino? He even friended Sakura before Ino! Though, Shino had a suspicion Sakura's request may had been a result of clumsy typing. Shino definately hadn't meant anything by it, but that started a series of... interesting talks between the two. But all and all, Shino suspected that's why he saw Shikamaru's icon so often, among others he didn't quite recognize himself.

Of course Shino knew he didn't have to accept the requests at all. He could've delete them even. But... it didn't seem right to ignore them either. And maybe it felt... kinda nice being reached out to...

"I mean, shit, maybe I should shoot him a message too..." Kiba mused.

"... I was under the impression it was for Mirai's sake."

Kiba perked up, "Huh?"

"That's because a cellphone number is a personal and direct line. If Mirai is currently under my care as a student, wouldn't it make sense to have multiple contacts in case of an emergency?"

Kiba sighed. Typical Shino, "Did Shikamaru say it was strictly for emergencies only?"

"... No."

"So, Dude, maybe... just maybe, Shikamaru simply isn't aware that you have socials? I know I know... social media is meant to be for socializing, but so are direct lines! Why does a direct line have to be so off limits? You're not a stranger to Shikamaru either, Shino. I mean, if anything, he probably trusts you a lot, knowing the kind of person you've ways been. It's a personal line after all, right?"

Not a stranger, but definitely not the person closest the Shikamaru either... It didn't quite make sense beyond Mirai's safety... but, maybe that was Shino's own opinion...

"... I'm over thinking it again."

"Yup."

"... Maybe I will. I'm already friends with Ino and Choji..."

"Yeah! Just complete the trio! Here let's see..." Kiba took out his phone and started to review something, "... I think the only people you're not friends with besides Shikamaru are... Sasuke, who simply deleted everything at one point, Neji, but he really only followed me because of Hinata," Kiba added wearily, "aaand a lot of... other people... but, like, you're better off that way. I have a lot of those assholes blocked or didn't bother. Even Sasuke had been more better of an option than them!"

"Like who?"

"Like I had to block Shikamaru's psycho ex-girlfriend Tayuya. Fucking nightmare that girl was..."

"Ah... the flute player," Shino wasn't all that to date back in the day either, but even he knew about Tayuya...

"Sure that was YEARS ago, and maybe she's different now? But she was... not okay then. To be fair, Shikamaru wasn't blameless, but cripes... After the break-up she was constantly stalking him online... I've just kept her blocked for good measure, I don't know if she's still even there."

Another reason Shino didn't want social media at the time... It made it too easy to let people in. In all honesty the idea had felt overwhelming, and sometimes still does...

"So you're good there."

"Sasuke, Shikamaru, Neji..."

"... Anyone else?"

"... I think those are the last few people from back then I'd actually tolerate. Shikamaru had been your friend, and Sasuke... wasn't always so aloof before he disappeared... And then Neji is Hinata's cousin..."

"Ha! Perfect! So then why not friend Neji too, just for the hell of it? You two had some kind of bro pact, I do remember that."

"He just worried about Hinata, Kiba. Between you and Naruto, I could see why."

"Sue me Shino, it's not my fault the school was full of cute girls!" Kiba nearly whined, but with a ridiculously dopey smile on his face.

It made Shino think. Shikamaru was one of the only people he more regularly saw who didn't reach out to him. But of course Shikamaru had a problem with a stalker at one point. That would make anyone weary of social media. Kiba had even stated he wasn't on much. Shino couldn't fault him for that.

Sasuke apparently deleted his, but it wasn't like they were the closet to begin with, despite humble beginnings. Shino had his fair share of complaints when it came to Sasuke, but when he transferred to a different school before senior year started, even Shino felt his absence.

And recalling high school, Neji did once ask for Shino's socials before. But it was obviously for the same reason of wanting to keep extra tabs on his little cousin and her "new friends" in Environmental Club. Shino had already explained he didn't have any, and he wasn't sure Neji believed him, but had agreed to be very careful with Hinata, who had started to hang out with he and Kiba more after they returned her book she had left in the club classroom. Shino kept it as Kiba was terribly tempted to take a peek, but once it had been returned, and Kiba expressed his curiosity, Hinata shyly presented them with page after page of pressed flowers, all marked with name, date, and little tidbits of info. She became even more bashful at Kiba's amazement and Shino's praise. It was just very well organized and aesthetically pleasing, something she and Ino would bond over later into their friendships.

So then, it was very surprising to know that such a timid girl had an incredible amount of skill in Martial Arts, but had opted to join Environment Club instead of Martial Arts Club. It was less of a shock to find out she and the school's Number One MAC member were related, first cousins even. They had a strong resemblance to each other.

As for Shino and Neji, their mutual fondness for Hinata became a source of camaraderie at some point. Despite expectations and Neji's sterness, all he really wanted was for Hinata to simply have fun during school, and he very much appreciated Shino looking out for her. So Kiba wasn't wrong. And in current time, Hinata had ultimately decided she was gonna live out of town due to... many reasons, but mainly because of her job as a pastry chef in a very successful and family owned cafe and bakery. Of course cinnamon rolls were her specialty, but Shino's feed always had some of the most delightful pictures of various decorated confections, most made by her too. He wasn't the biggest fan of sweets in general, but he was very fond of her handy work. You could tell she loved her job with every detail.

"Crap! Hey Shino, did you wanna order anything to go?"

"Uh, no. I think that was enough."

"Alright cause it's about time I go meet Tamaki," Kiba grinned, "Here's my part!"

Kiba slammed a twenty dollar bill down onto the table and hurriedly put his jacket back on. When Shino looked at the time it was nearly half past six. Oh, the reservation was made for seven. Maybe he talked too much.

"We might've pushed it, Kiba."

"No way, it's fine! I mean I don't mind going if that's where she wants to go, but you know how fancy places are! I need food Shino, actual food!"

Shino was glad that his friend was putting in so much effort for this girl. It seemed like he really liked her, and she was pretty cute, and also... nice. But when it came to things like this, Shino wasn't sure how long this was really gonna last. But it probably wasn't his place to comment.

"Make sure Akamaru takes his medicine, he'll definitely down it if you give him the peanut butter too."

"Sure, no problem."

"Also, Shino."

"Yes?"

"Seriously, don't be so shy! Just friend them!"

"Stop dawdling, you're gonna be late."

Kiba laughed as he waved and nearly jogged out of the restaurant. After paying and boxing the rest of Kibas plate for later (Shino was sure his idiot friend was gonna be hungry again) Shino headed out to Kiba's apartment. He already had a key, ever since he had come back to town. They had always been close like that, though with these new developments Shino always made it a point to give Kiba space and a heads up.

Akamaru was getting old. This medicine was supposed to help him in his old age, and just as Kiba said, Akamaru took the medication with no problem. Shino also made sure that the bowls were full of water and food. Because there was now also Akemaru, a younger dog of the same breed that Kiba had come across one day at the shelter. After only a few weeks and no adoptions, Kiba couldn't resist and ended up adopting him, and he and Akamaru became very close. As a favor to their otherwise absent owner, Shino got the younger and more energetic dog ready for a walk. When Shino offered to take Akamaru, the old boy wagged his tail and came to lick Shino's hand, but then retreated back to his bed and laid down. Looks like that was gonna be a pass, but he was thankful for the offer.

...

Shit.

Okay. Okay, that was it. Actually, this was perfect. Before Shino really started the walk, he pulled out his phone. He scrolled through he recommended friends list of his most commonly used social and easily found the cloud icon that belonged to Shikamaru. It was the same app he even had people like Kurenai and his father on. Just being able to keep anyone of relevance to his social circles on the same app was fine. It kept them close, but not too close either. Available, but at a distance. The only other people who had Shino's personal line were Kiba, Hinata, Kurenai, his father Shibi, Torune and Neji.

Shino hadn't mentioned that to Kiba, but in reality, they hadn't kept much contact anyway. So Shino hoped Kiba didn't snoop his friends list later, but he decidedly sent Shikamaru a friend request and put his phone away into a pocket. Then after switching out his glasses, as to see better in the evening, he left the apartment and began his walk with Akemaru. This would definitely keep him from getting too anxious about it. Shino didn't really know why he was like this, but it was done and now it was up the Shikamaru if he really wanted to catch up. Not that there was a whole lot to catch up on. He was more Kiba's friend after all, always had been, but Shino was sure Kiba didn't really think about that kind if thing too deeply.

Thankfully there was a park a couple blocks down, which even in the evening looked easy to navigate. The air was fresh and chilly, but tolerable with his coat on. Akemaru was good on a leash, and so Shino was able to keep a steady but not rushed pace. He followed a predetermined path, one Shino was actually familiar with too and so he was able to relax as his body went into coast mode.

...

It was nice. Just focusing on the walk. But Shino couldn't help thinking back to his high school days too. Seeing Shikamaru hadn't really been a shock so much as a surprise. He definitely... grew. His voice was deeper. His hair seemed more or less the same length, but maybe looked longer as now he styled it differently. Instead of the low and rather disheveled ponytail he used to wear, he now kept it only half up it looked like. Shino didn't think it looked bad at all, but with some loose strands in his face and the more casual clothes he had been wearing, Shino really wondered if Shikamaru wasn't more or less dragged last minute to PTN. But maybe he was thinking of the Shikamaru from before. Because this Shikamaru was actually... really approachable. And very kind with his words. Maybe that's what growing up some did to people.

Because the one from before was always annoyed, and grumpy, and quiet unless spoken to, yet Naruto and his shenanigans always put a mischievous smirk on his face. Shino had found him a little intimidating. But it wasn't until Kiba and Naruto decided to drag Shino AND Hinata out to a lunchtime hangout and pretty much threw them into the mix of different friends they shared that Shino met Shikamaru, as well as most everyone else. Shino had recognized Ino, and Ino did too after he mentioned Torune, seeing as Torune and Foo both graduated the year before.

"Torune? Like, short black hair, really thick glasses?"

"He has green eyes too."

"Hey, yeah! You're my cousin's boyfriend's cousin! What a small world!"

It was pretty lame introduction.

"And... you're Ino, right?"

"Wow, Ino, he remembered you!" a pink haired girl chastised.

"Oh, shut up, Forehead, it's not like we ever really hung out before. I think we met, like, once at one of Foo's birthdays?"

"That's true," Shino agreed, "I just went for the drive to drop off his present since that day he couldn't stay. You're mom insisted on giving us goodie bags anyway before we left."

"Ugh, good, our parents always go over the top with the decorations and stuff, believe me!"

"Ino, you are over the top."

"Shikamaru, no one was talking to you!"

"Wait, wait wait, your cousin Foo has a boyfriend?"

"Yeah, what of it," Ino immediately scowled at Kiba.

It made Kiba shut up immediately, but then he turned to Shino and whispered, "Hey, is your cousin gay?"

Shino shrugged, "I didn't ask, but it's none of my business." He was. Shino had known but Torune never outright told him they were officially dating. So as far as he was concerned it was a mystery.

"What about you, Hinata, I don't think we've met before. I'm Sakura."

"Um, hello-"

"Actually! We're in Home Ec together!" another boy munching on chips said, "She made the best cinnamon rolls in class the other day!"

Hinata blushed, "Ah, thank-you, Choji..."

"Cinnoman rolls!? I saw that that roll! Hinata, that was yours!?" Naruto asked, super impressed.

She only blushed even harder, "It might've been...!?"

"It was!" Choji confirmed.

"Naruto stop crowding already!" Sakura scolded, poking him against the side of his forehead, "You can be so loud!"

"Augh, alright, Sakura stop!"

It had actually been a relatively friction free integration. Hinata and the girls got along faster than he would've guessed, and later Shino and Sasuke would meet again, with Naruto giving Shino a suspicious stink-eye.

"We've been in the same classes since elementary school," Shino commented, "You have to really go out of your way to ignore someone for that long..."

"Hn..." As friendly as always...

...

From then on, Kiba always insisted on Shino and Hinata joining them at lunch, which Shino did. But Shino couldn't quite fathom the idea of sacrificing his after school time to go to out and do... well, who even knew? Back then, he had a routine, he had things to tend to back home. His terrariums that his father put him in charge of, his guitar practice because he wasn't about to let those lessons go to waste, his study time, and planning for EC activities as he was a more involved member, he was already a busy guy. At least that's what he used to think. But he would be a sad ass liar if he didn't appreciate the invitations. Towards the end he broke a few time at his father's insistence. He was mentally drained each time, but he did have fun, and Kiba always seemed excited to recall the events with Shino after.

Once he had attended collage, Shino really wished he would have taken more time to simply enjoy a more decent social life with the people he called friends at school outside of school. Was he too shy? Was he too selective? Was he socially inept? It didn't matter now. It wasn't until Shino's very first job that he felt like he got to a level he wished he could've reached sooner. Being a cashier at a fast food chain really taught you how to handle and tolerate people, and definitely brought Shino out if his shell more than he would've ever thought. College in general did a lot for him in that respect.

... Kiba was right. If old friends were reaching out, why couldn't Shino do the same?

Well, apparently the universe was glad he agreed, because the second he did, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

Shino stopped in place and Akemaru whined. When he checked his phone, he saw not only a "Request Accepted" message but also a simple text message as well, also from Shikamaru.

-----

Hey, can you talk? Call me if you can.

-----

Oh what the fuck.

Shino felt his nerves stand at attention with the prospect of a sudden conversation. What... What did Shikamaru even want right now? Did he really want to talk now?

... No. No, dammit, no! Not this time. Shino took a deep breath and continued to walk, much to Akemaru's delight. And as he got a steady rhythm, Shino highlighted Shikamaru's number and pressed "Call".

It was settled. If he was gonna start making up for lost time, it was now or never, awkward interactions be damned!

[bqstqnbruin]

if u wanna rant abt the person u h*te go for it !

I’m going to put this under the cut because it’s just a lot but 

to preface this: it takes a lot for me to genuinely hate a person. Like there are people that I dislike, but that’s different from me hating them, ya know? I HATE this girl.

So y’all know I was a chemistry major in undergrad, right? I did organic chemistry research the summer after my sophomore year until I graduated. There were four of us: myself, the other girl in my year who was also new to the lab that summer, then two girls who were going into their senior year, one that I liked, one that I didn’t. The one I didn’t like was technically ‘in charge’ because she had been there the longest, she was a year ahead of me (she was class of 2019, I was class of 2020). Let’s call her Jane, because there are a lot of people in this story. 

This girl is really smart. Like brilliant. 4.0 as a chemistry major with a physics and math minor, is currently getting her PhD at Harvard in Physical Chemistry. 

She is the kind of girl who would get the highest grades in the class, ruin the curve type of student. And that’s fine, if you’re smart, you’re smart, get those grades. She would make sure everyone knew that she got the highest grades and make snarky little comments about how “well if you just tried harder then you could get these grades too!” like bitch ??? science is hard calm down ! we know you’re smart ! If you got a higher grade than her, she would make you feel bad about it in a ‘well how did you get a better grade than me’ kind of way. 

So I already didn’t like her going into the summer. 

The night before, my friend and I who were new to the research group get a text from one of our friends saying “Hey, just so you know, Jane was bragging to us yesterday that she was planning on hazing you guys. It shouldn’t be anything actually dangerour, but please be careful.” Keep in mind: hazing is against university policy. In the student handbook, it says that anyone who is caught hazing other students will be removed from the university. 

First day in lab, my research partner and I were there, and she starts telling us to do all this stupid shit, like saying we have to weigh everything out on the scale three times to make sure that it’s accurate, giving us random goggles to wear when we used certain equipment, telling us to yell “fire in the hole” when we used the dry ice tank, that sort of shit. Jane was bragging about it to a professor and he literally had to tell her “if I hear Christina and her partner say anything else about what you’re doing, I’m reporting you to the university president” as if her basically telling him she was hazing us wasn’t enough, but whatever. 

In our lab, we use a lot of glassware. For whatever reason, we call them our “dishes.” Not sure why, that’s just the way it’s always been. It somehow fell on me to do all the dishes, to the point where I would have to come to the lab an hour earlier than everyone else and leave an hour later than everyone else just to get everything done. Our lab was joined with another lab (there was a doorway connecting the two), so we spent a lot of time with that other lab group, and the sink was right by the door that connected them. We were all in the back talking to each other, I’m standing there doing all the dishes, and Jane is complaining about how she hasn’t been able to do anything. So my friend, the one who had texted us saying Jane was going to haze us, was like “Well, why?” Jane turns to me and goes “my minion isn’t washing my dishes fast enough for me.” I was shocked and didn’t know what to say because, like, what the fuck? My friend goes “Maybe wash your own dishes instead of making Christina do them when she has her own shit to do.” 

I still ended up doing all the dishes. At one point, she threw a dish into the sink when I was standing in front of it doing dishes, and it shattered in the sink. Shards easily could have cut me had I been standing a little bit to the left. 

Her 21st birthday was during the summer. Lab tradition is that anyone who has a summer birthday gets like a little celebration: we decorate the lab, we make them a cake, that sort of stuff. So we did. We went all out, because that’s what the lab did for everyone, and that was a tradition we did even after she left. She brought in a bottle of vodka to the lab (I think her boyfriend had picked it up for her and brought it to the science center). We’re a wet campus, so having alcohol isn’t a problem as long as you’re of age. We were all in the back room of the lab, and she passes out cups to everyone, and I tell her, “Oh, I really don’t drink, I don’t want one,” and apparently that meant nothing to her because she kept yelling at me to take the shot of vodka until I did, which, considering I was 19 at the time, definitely wasn’t legal. If the professor of the lab we were in had walked in 2 seconds earlier, I wouldn’t ahve had to drink it. 

So that’s not even all of it. This shit continued into the school year. We were all in the chemistry club (because we’re NERDS). She was one of the presidents with the other girl from our research group in her year, the one that I liked, while I was treasurer and our other friend was secretary. At the begining of the year, she sends me an email outlining the potential fundraisers that we wanted to do, and asked me for my thoughts. The included things like having nights at the local restaurants where they give us a cut of the profits, selling custom stickers that we bought, bake sales, that stuff. She told me, “send me your thoughts.” 

One of her ideas was making and selling liquid nitrogen ice cream. Outside. In November. In Philly, it doesn’t get horribly cold in November, but it gets cold enough that selling liquid nitrogen ice cream outside isn’t the best idea. I had suggested “we can do another bake sale, or other clubs are decorating flatware beakers and selling them like that, we could do that instead. And then we could do the ice cream fundraiser during the sping because it will be warmer and more people will want it.” Everything else, I told her, sure, I like those ideas, this is how I can make them work, this is what I already have going through with the restaurant stuff.

She texts the other president throwing an absolute fit that I turned down the ONE fundraiser for November, telling her “she needs to step up and do better” and that “I’m telling her that this is what we’re doing and she has to do them or we’re removing her from her position.” My friend literally told her, “No, Christina said she would do everything but the one fundraiser and I agree with her.” One of the professors had to get involved because they found my crying in the lab over this, so that was fun. 

I had mentioned the dishes before, but that part of the saga continues. I was the only one doing the dishes still. the girl I liked did hers all the time and tried to pick up the slack, the girl in my year wasn’t doing research during the semester and wasn’t technically allowed in the lab because of legal safety reasons. Jane was still using glassware and not cleaning it. Our research advisor tells us “the health and safety inspector came by the lab and saw all the dishes in the sink. If they aren’t clean by whatever date he comes back, we’re going to get in trouble.” So ok. We have three group chats for the lab: one with the four of us and our advisor, one with the four of us, and one without Jane. Both the one with and the one without Jane were going. In one of them, someone said “we need to figure out a schedule of who can go in when so we can get these dishes done.” I said “I’ve been doing them, but no matter what I do, more and more end up in the sink and I can’t keep up. Maybe if her highness did her own dishes instead of expecting me to do them all, this would get done faster and it wouldn’t be a problem.” I thought I was texting the one without Jane. I wasn’t.

She responds back “Um, haha, wrong group chat” I go, “oh well, do your dishes.” So she knew I didn’t like her, and she definitely didn’t like me. It was pretty obvious before, but now it was pretty much confirmed. 

We had a few research presentations together as a group. Keep in mind, she didn’t much over the summer in terms of research, and what she did do, never worked. Which is fine, that’s how science goes sometimes. She spent more time in the lab working on her applications for various shit. She took our research and presented it at so many different conferences. Granted, we didn’t do much, either, since we only had two months of work which isn’t a lot of time, but she left our names off the posters and really didn’t give us any credit. She said it was because ACS rules stated that the only people who need to go on the research poster were those presenting that actual poster. I went alone to a conference in Florida in 2019, and I had to have her name on the poster for some reason, though. 

That’s pretty much the end of what she did to me, but there was so much other shit that she did to other people, too. I mentioned her intelligence. Her boyfriend LEFT HIS MASTERS PROGRAM TO MOVE WITH HER TO CAMBRIDGE. HE LEFT IT. I’m still mad about that. He deserves better.

Before she had decided to go to Harvard, she had the audacity to tell me that she didn’t want to go to Boston because it was more dangerous than Philly (statisically, it really isn’t). 

She had a restraining order on a guy who was a year behind me because he “assaulted her.” I know both of them fairly well. What had happened, according to him and other students, was that he was getting up from his desk, and the way he swung his backpack to put it on, it ended up hitting her by accident. It was not intentional. The rows of desks are close together, and she was standing close to him. He did not do it on purpose. This guy was also not well liked by people, and something tells me they wouldn't defend him if he actually did it on purpose.

For graduation, you know how people wear cords and medals to represent their activities and accomplishments? She was jealous that the girl in our lab group had more chords than her, so she went and bought more for herself.  

What’s frustrating is that because she was so smart and had so many grants and got the school a decent amount of attention, whenever we said anything or talked about it, nothing happened. The professors knew her and I hated each other, but they didn’t seem to believe why. Whatever. 

I think that’s it. I hope she fails in life, honestly. I do not like her at all. 

Sorry that was a lot, but thank you for letting me rant about this oaidjfaoi

[marlsbuck]

— && guests may mistake me as ( haley lu richardson ), but really i am ( marley buckley + cisfemale + she/her ) and my DOB is ( 6/13/1994 ). i am applying for the ( vet tech ) position as part of the EHP and would like to live in suite ( 211 ). i should be hired because i am ( witty & empathetic ), but i can also be ( indecisive & absent-minded ) at times. personally, i like to ( dance, knit & volunteer at the zoo ) when off the clock, but that won’t interfere with work.

hi pals! we’re back with a marley mae revamp! our favorite lil cowgirl is getting the makeover she deserves, so let’s get started, shall we?

before we get too into it, though, we have a stats page and a pinterest (which is also getting a revamp before too long bUT...i digress).

lil tw moment: abuse, alcohol, drug, death mention tws. per usual, i went a little heavy on the tws just to be safe! 

- marley mae buckley was born june 13th, 1994 to finnegan and shailene buckley.

- her father is a chief exec at an oil company and her mother was a stay at home mom and socialite, the latter of which she preferred.

- the family moved to billings, montana shortly after marley was born so her father could be more involved with work. this meant her mother had more time on her hands and more time to attempt to mold marley into the perfect daughter.

- except marley liked dirt, climbing tress, and pretending to ride the family dog like a rodeo bull.

- needless to say that did not go well????

- substance abuse tw early in marley’s life, her mother mixed prescription pills and pinot, which only made the tension between the two more intense. 

- abuse tw baby marls never understood why her mother would want to self medicate, essentially checking out and missing a majority of her only child’s life, until one night after her father came home after a day of ‘meetings’. smelling like expensive scotch and cigar smoke, marley saw her father hit her mother for the first time.

-  abuse tw she didn’t witness the actual abuse often, but marley started noticing the signs more and more often. bruises around wrists, large sunglasses when it wasn’t sunny out, concealer caked around her eyes and jaw. for a while, she begged her mother to take her and leave, but marley’s mother refused - firm in her belief that she wouldn’t be able to make it on her own.

- so they endured. more often than not, marley’s mother took her pain and frustration out on her daughter. it didn’t take long for marley’s parents toxicity to turn her into an angry, resentful person. marley was around 8 when she started acting out - “accidentally” breaking things around the house, saying out of pocket things at her father’s work events or fancy dinner parties. marley was 10 the first time she left home and didn’t come back for hours on end, only to come back and realize no one had really noticed she was gone.

- when she was about 13, marley really started acting out and rebelling. she started hanging out with a rougher group of kids who were significantly older than her. even though she never took part in the more intense stuff, marley did manage to get herself into some trouble that finally managed to catch her parents’ attention.

-  one night, while out with that older, rougher group of friends, marley was arrested for a destruction of property charge. since she was a minor, her parents were called immediately and, after making a sizable donation to billings pd, made the whole thing go away.

- officially done dealing with marley and the whole “mothering” of it all (if you can call it that), her parents shipped her back to their hometown of big timber to live with her paternal grandparents.

- she tried to run away a few times (even going so far as to steal her grandfather’s work truck - even tho she didn’t get far because she didn’t know how to drive stick yet) because rebellious, but after paw made her stay and help one of their cattle give birth, marley fell in love.

- marley fell in love with every animal on the ranch - all their quirks and distinct personalities. it quickly became the home marley’d never had. it was warm and loving and full of joy and life. her grandparents became the only parents she’d ever really known.

- they were the only reason marley agreed to go back to her parents. they’d made a deal that if she behaved at “home”, she’d be able to spend the rest of her summers at the ranch.

- so marley went back to her parents and did the dance classes, and dinner parties, and even did the whole debutante thing and “came out” to society.

- at 16 she petitioned to be emancipated and a judge granted said petition. she promptly moved into the renovated barn at the ranch that her grandparents had rented out while she finished school.

- marley ended up graduating early and began attending classes at the local community college, eventually getting her associates in science all while still working on the ranch when she could.

- at 19, marley began classes at montana state, majoring in microbiology as a pre-vet track.

- death tw shortly after she finished her first year at msu, marley found out her mother passed unexpectedly. when she went to attend the services, her father effectively disowned her (even though they hadn’t spoken in years) and blamed her for her mother’s issues and death.

- marley came back to the ranch more depressed than she’d ever been and instead of dealing with the hurricane of emotions she felt, marley dropped out of school and ran

- marley drove all along the west coast, eventually settling on a cattle farm in texas.

- there, marley met literally the worst thing to ever happen to her. only a month or two after settling in texas, marley started dating wade because mess attracts mess. duh. his parents owned the farm she was working on and he gave her attention. that’s it. that’s all it took.

- abuse tw it didn’t take long for the gas lighting, lying, and cheating to start. a short six months into their relationship was when the physical abuse started. growing up, she’d always told herself that she’d never allow a man to treat her the way she’d watched her father treat her mother - that she’d be stronger than her mother and leave after the first time. finally, though, marley realized the battle her mother had fought to endure all those years of abuse and just how hard it was to muster the courage to leave. 

- to this day, marley carries around the guilt of spending years blaming her mother for being weak and missing the opportunity to apologize while she was still alive.

- eventually paw caught on and WASN’T having any of it. so he snuck down with maw in the middle of the night while wade was out on a bender and packed marley’s shit and took her back home to the ranch like the knight in shining armor that man is.

- two years of animal therapy and literal therapy, marley applied to finish her bachelors in chicago after maw suggested it. she was accepted and once again left her home behind, but this time it was to chase her dream and we’re all v proud.

- she’s been at the mlanati now for two years and has finished her bachelors and is a certified vet tech. she’s currently in her last year of undergrad and is getting ready to start applying to vet schools officially.

hcs!

- marley is a jeeple. she owns a 2008 black jeep wrangler x. 100% named it ringo. definitely has a black jeep of the family bumper sticker and let me tell you, this girl is SO proud.

- y’all will never catch this girl in shoes. she will start the day in shoes and by the time lunch rolls around she’s barefoot. the only pair of shoes she enjoys wearing are her justin boots or her vvv worn out vans. 

- she knits when she’s anxious, which is more often than not now that she’s in a new place. but it also means she’s giving out cute lil beanies and scarves to her new frens.

- loves and i mean LOVES westerns. tombstone and gunsmoke were staples growing up.

- also probably the worlds biggest dolly parton fan. if it involves dolly, marley is in.

- ALIENS, MAN. your girl loves aliens and most space things. roswell (the og and new shows) are her jam bc...y’know....cowliens.

- she has three tattoos: some wildflowers on her upper left ribs, “worthy” in her grandpa’s handwriting on her upper right forearm, and the silhouette of big timber peak at the nape of her neck.

- marley is also one of those people that doesn’t need a ton of sleep? 4-5 hours max and she’s golden.

- cold brew coffee also runs through her veins. her coffee order is a trenta cold brew with hazelnut and almond milk, thanks. it’s also probably one of the reasons she never stops moving....ever.

- big time questioning her sexuality. marley’s only ever been with men, but uuuuuhhhhh WOMEN y’know? also nb folx are v nice. we do not discriminate in this house.

- 2 cats! doc (7 y/o himalayan long hair) and ike (2 y/o munchkin). both rescues she met while volunteering at a shelter.

- snake tw would also v much like a colombian rainbow boa pls and thank

- will always make time to take a dance class or book space to just dance all her feelings out. it’s one of the few joys she has that comes without feelings of pressure or stress. 

- holds most  people at arms length. she’s more than happy to listen and support everyone around her, but is a literal steel trap when it comes to talking about herself and her past.

- alcohol/drugs tw not a drinker. buckley’s don’t have a great track record of being able to handle their liquor (never let her do shots pls), so marley sticks to the occasional blunt. esp when she’s feeling extra anxious, it calms her down and evens her out.

- she do be jumpy af! loud noises (that don’t obviously come from animals) make her anxious and shaky. it’s the *pTsD*.

- marley’s triggers include but are not limited to: grabbing her face/chin, breaking glass, loud noises - specifically yelling, general violence, the smell of vodka or scotch and cigar smoke, being grabbed from behind/picked up without warning.

wanted connections!

- travel pals! : people marley met on her trip from montana to texas! she wouldn’t have stuck around long, but she was a hot ass mess and these would have been people who met her at p close to her lowest? so seeing her at the malnati would be like meeting a whole new person. she’ll probs be hella flustered and embarrassed so, like, we love that.

- hype squaaaaaad! : marley’s self esteem is still.........nonexistent, almost. she’s all about giving the love, but is the worst at accepting it, so obviously we need someone to shove all the love and positive affirmations her way! help ya girl see her worth!

- post hook ups! : likely only one or two! marley isn’t one to hook up unless she’s feeling pretty awful about her self and needs some instant validation. can be awkward or cordial! i’m down to plot specifics!

- crushes! : unrequited or nah (lbr i’d live for unrequited pls) male, female, nb - gimmie it all! babie is ready to give all the love....kinda. from afar. bc trauma. bUT!!! leggo. lololol.

- confidant! : literally probably the only connection that’s limited to one person. they know eeeeverything. every horrid, gruesome detail about marley’s past and all her insecurities. they could be someone that met her when she was on her way to texas/she met in texas or someone she met after and got to witness one of her panic attacks post texas. aka the one person she trusts most.

- scurry folx! : pls gimmie plots where marley is at odds with someone, whether or not it’s because they scare her a lil (aka angry, aggressively loud, bully-ish type someones) or just people who can’t handle her goofy, oddball, pollyanna type personality! i. need. ANGST!! pls. ty.

- chemistry, ofc!

[optimiist]

𝚒’𝚍  𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙  𝚊𝚗  𝚎𝚢𝚎  𝚘𝚗  𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖  ;   that  there  is  APRIL  RIGGS  ,  notorious  for  being  (  deceitful  )  and  (  superficial  )  ,  but  there  are  times  when  she  can  be  (  charismatic  )  and  (  strategic  )  .   i've  heard  that  she  could  pass  as  a  MEGAN FOX  doppelganger  ,  but  i  don't  see  it  .   the  (  thirty-five  )  year - old  cis woman has  been  in  town  for  (  two weeks / majority of her life  )  and  they  are  a  (  socialite  )  by  day  and  murder  suspect  by  night  .   they  tend  to  spark  images  of  swarovski crystal champagne flutes raised in the air , a 14 carat diamond ring left on the bedside table , a singed undergrad diploma , a stranger in the mirror , a stadium full of empty applause , the lethal combination of a stepford wife and stifler’s mom  .   you’ll  know  when  they  walk  by  because  they  always  seem  to  be  blasting  feeling good  by  NINA SIMONE  .   it  truly  explains  why  they're  known  as  THE  TROPHY  .

to know:

UPDATE: her full bio is here. gives more important insight into the relationship she has/had with her mother.

triggers: neglect, brief mention of statutory rape

i got very ‘poetic’ in the ‘a little further’ portion of the app and described her as a trophy in my first bullet point… so there you have it! you see, no matter what she did, she was always only praised for her appearance. just a trophy!!

she was born (in taunwick) to a very successful politician and her trophy husband. therefore, she spent much of her time alone as her mother was busy campaigning or throwing galas while her father, her mother’s trophy husband, went along for the ride. 

there were very few times they spent any ‘quality time’ together – picture what i think was the first scene (one of!) in mommie dearest where joan crawford is turning her daughter’s birthday into a photo op. that was pretty much their definition of quality family time. it could be successfully argued that april’s mother figures all came in the form of nannies.

it could also be successfully argued that, unlike lionel, april is part of the daddy issues™ club. as will be very evident afhdliuwdsjn

probably also part of the mommy issues™ club aflhskd

mother riggs probs would go off about wire hangers but... u kno... not to the mommie dearest point...

what should be taken away rn is that she was literally raised to be shallow fhlakjds

she began an entitlement act rather young - there were only two people who saw through it, one of which will be sent in as a wc and the other… being harley!! bc gotta get april connected to the murders somehow!! gotta give her a reason to stay in taunwick too but!! that’s a problem for a future bullet.

there are those annoying kids who refuse to share their toys and all. and they usually grow out of it. but april… did not. elementary? demon child. junior high? demon preteen. high-school? demon teenager.

now!! on the topic of high-school!! if her age is any indication, she is not part of the class of 2000 - if i have my math right (possibly don’t, i once legit studied for a math exam and wound up still only getting a 34), she was part of the class of 2003. that being said, one year of hers did overlap with everyone else’s - she knew chastity as an acquaintance at best, although she still recognized harley as a friend!! good for her!!

that being said, chastity’s murder….. didn’t have much of an effect on her…. ya it’s v tragic….. but it’s been a week guys :\ 

her alibi: she was in the woods with someone…….. when pressured to say with who bc animals and trees can’t confirm that…… she was ashamed to say it was someone on the lacrosse team. she usually aimed higher :\

anyway, they all graduated and it was HER TIME TO SHINE!! it was HER TIME to USURP THE THRONE and become THAT BITCH of the school!! probably had .3 real friends, what with the exception of the one wc i plan to send in!! that... was inspired by “jenny” by studio killers… we can’t wait to send it. 

did everything she perceived as the it girl stuff, what from joining those cool teams to being crowned her own prom queen to……………. sleeping with teachers. 1) alexa play “daddy issues” by the neighbourhood, 2) fire them.

fun fact tho!! she got into a hella good school. as in the ivy that is columbia. by what was….. partially her own merit…… partially her mother giving a very generous donation. have to make the family look PERFECT!!

she received an art history degree on what was….. partially her own merit…… partially sleeping with professors (see two bullets above.)but... graduation came… and what do you do with an art history degree from an ivy… 

you marry rich!!!!!!!

in the perfect parallel that she did not even recognize as a parallel because she’s big dumb, she found a marginally older politician (....it’s gonna be a wc so it’s gonna depend on the player but it’s gonna be 50+ hfdlsjak wld make it older but there j aren’t enough resources!!) and was like *martha (...virginia woolf?) vc* “yes, yes. [he] will do.” *end vc*

in spite of having become marginally more introspective than she was in high-school… she still doesn’t recognize her daddy issues :\

they got married. in spite of it being beautiful and expensive and gaudy, she really didn’t feel anything?? was lowkey GLAD her parents weren’t there (and not in the angsty ‘they never show up to anything anyway :\’ way, in the ‘this is literally wasting everyone’s time’ way). their marriage started and continued as a very unfulfilling one. he, in perfect politician style, began having affairs exactly as she, in perfect april style, began having affairs. while they never directly spoke of them, they knew the other was involved with other people.

why april didn’t divorce him is an excellent question. is it out of a certain selflessness, not wanting to do any damage to his career?? is it out of selfishness, not wanting to lose that sugar daddy?? a little bit of both. probably more the latter tho!!

anyway!! her father finally divorced her mother and she was like “i’m…. gonna say i’m gonna go be a good daughter…. go comfort my mother in this trying time….. but jk i j wanna get away from my husband lmao”

again, barely knows her mother. learned various different languages so she could have fair conversations with the foreign nannies.

but….. he has a reputation to keep up!! and his wife straight-up disappearing and leaving him would be 100x worse than a divorce…. so here he comes!! to save the day!! and his reputation!!

as you can imagine, between her husband figuring out her real motive + her…. barely liking her mother, she would be inclined to return to nyc… but that’s where harley’s murder will come in!! the perfect crime!! literally!!

TL;DR:

a former It Girl™ with daddy issues, mommy issues, and a fear of commitment.

CONNECTION IDEAS:

**open to any gender unless otherwise specified

her husband (m): WILL BE BEING SENT INTO THE MAIN.

that connection based off of “jenny” (f/nb): WILL BE BEING SENT INTO THE MAIN.

various affairs: gotta have those if she’s resigned to a new life… still with her husband :\

‘friends’ from the class of 2002-2005: i think that’s the right range for when she would’ve been THAT BITCH in the high-school?? but ya!! ppl chillin w her for the clout and she was like “this is validating”

enemies from the class of 2002-2005: again, i THINK that’s the right range?? but wow. ppl she didn’t even TRY to be nice to. or ppl who j straight-up hated her. there were plenty of reasons!!

hookups / ‘dates’ from the class of 2002-2005: again with the math?? But ya!! more inclined to ‘date’ those cool folks, but apparently didn’t discriminate with her hookups if her alibi is any clue.

neighbors: up in the hills chillin right next to a very watered down political joan crawford, her trophy husband who yeet’d out of existence, and eventually her very shallow daughter and said shallow daughter’s husband who’s probs closer in age to said very watered down political joan crawford. what could go wrong!!

acquaintances of any sort from the class of 2000: gotta get them skels!!

more to come!!

FURTHER:

for a bit of a better idea:

pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/idkimnewwastaken/april/

playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1416e2ijuY3viSnzi6HjPz?si=sQmXEc5DQlSKbT2t7XZYeQ 

musing tag: https://optimiist.tumblr.com/tagged/april-%7C-musings.

mini stats (to be later extended): optimiist.tumblr.com/as (also again with the font) (and notice the irony i have in my url when combining april and lionel!!)

[filmfanatic82]

AO3 Link (HERE)

Chapter 18: O (V)

It’s gone.

The lone realization pops into Octavia’s mind like a crimson red flare blazing through a darkened sky, ripping her straight out of her dreamless slumber. Her eyes pop open, and for the briefest of moments, she forgets that she isn’t alone. 

But then a gentle wave of overwhelming warmth engulfs Octavia, reminding her of the beautiful Latina that is currently asleep beside her.

Raven Reyes.

She slept with Raven Reyes.

And now…

Now, for the first time, in what seems like forever, it’s gone. That dull, gnawing sensation. The ever-present itch that resides just beneath the surface of her skin that can’t be scratched. 

It’s the “It”.

The one that Octavia dares not to speak about with anyone-- not even Clarke-- in fears of the strange looks and questions it might bring about. 

But now it’s nowhere to be found. 

Octavia ever-so-gently extracts herself from Raven’s arms and then pushes herself up in the bed. She runs her hands through her mess of hair, quickly scooping it up into a makeshift bun and secures it in place with a spare hair tie. 

Has Raven been the answer to it all along?

No.

It can’t be that simple.

But what if it is?

Raven.

Octavia sighs and glances over at Raven as a small smile of content slides across her lips. She lets her fingers ghost against the older girl’s flawless caramel-colored skin, and a barrage of thoughts flood her mind.

What now?

What will happen once Raven wakes up?

Will she regret last night?

Or even worse…

Will she wake up and act as if it never happened at all?

Octavia blinks away a stray tear as she attempts to push that last thought back down into the dark recesses of her consciousness.

The distinct sound of the front door opening and then moments later shutting cuts through the stillness of the night, grabbing Octavia’s attention. She listens in carefully as a chorus of familiar footsteps make their way up the stairs and pass right by her bedroom door. They come to an abrupt stop seconds later at which Octavia can only assume is the bedroom one door down and across the hallway from hers.

Clarke’s room.

But Clarke shouldn’t be home. 

It’s too early.

She always goes back to Lexa’s house.

At least until the morning when Clarke and Lexa stumble back here to pick up her and Raven for breakfast. Or sometimes, if they’ve been at it call night, then it’s just a text saying when and where to meet up.

But never in the dead of night.

Something isn’t right.  

Octavia peels the covers back and then slides out of bed, careful not to disturb Raven as she does. It isn’t until she reaches the hallway does she realize that she’s only clad her sports bra and her boxer briefs. Not that it matters. Clarke’s seen her in much less thousands of times before, and yet still, Octavia pauses. 

Maybe she should go back and get clothes?

Something that she normally would wear to bed…

Something a little less conspicuous? 

Would Clarke even notice?

Probably not.

If it isn’t involving Lexa or Raven, then Clarke rarely ever notices. 

Or only seems to notice after the fact.

Like last year, when Octavia was unfairly targeted by their biology teacher Dr. Pike. Clarke had been all but oblivious to the ongoing issue even though the signs were right in front of her face. And Octavia would’ve have continued to suffer in silence, accepting the unwarranted bad grades and random detentions, it hadn’t been for their dad intervening. 

Their dad and of course…

Raven.

Raven had been the one to tip Jake off as to what was really transpiring. Even though both swore that it wasn’t the case. That Jake had simply figured it out for himself. 

But Octavia knew better. 

Jake had known about the incident in class. The one where Octavia had been forced to stand in front of everyone and defend her essay on whether gender constructs were primarily defined by nature or by society. It had been not short of a 45-minute public interrogation. One that she had willingly endured without once losing her cool. And yet, in the end, it had still resulted in her failing the assignment. 

And the only person who had known about it, besides those who had witnessed it firsthand, had been Raven. 

Because Raven always notices.

Always.  

Octavia shakes her head, bringing her barrelling train of thoughts to yet another crashing halt. She gently nudges the bedroom door open and instantly spots Clarke, curled up in a ball on top of her bed. 

“Clarke?” Octavia says with nothing more than a whisper. But all that responds is the faint sound of crying. 

Octavia hesitates for a brief moment, not quite sure what to do next, and then slowly inches her way into Clarke’s room. She crawls onto the bed, next to Clarke, wrapping her arms around her older sister. “What’s wrong?”

But still no words. The tears continue to fall, steady and unrelenting, wetting Octavia’s hands. 

“Clarke, please…” Octavia tries her best to hide the quiver in her voice, but it’s of no use. She suddenly feels as if she’s that eight-year-old again, scared and terrified. Hiding in the back of Jake and Abby’s closet refusing to go to her mother’s funeral. 

Clarke had been the one that had come and found her that day, opting to stay in the closet with her until she mustered up the courage to re-emerge and face her new reality. 

“Finn.” The single word seems to echo throughout the room, instantly causing Octavia’s blood to boil. She doesn’t need to know any further details. Not when it comes to that douchebag of a human being. Octavia can paint an accurate enough picture with just his name and Clarke’s current emotional state.

“Where’s Lexa?” Octavia follows up.

“I don’t know.”

Octavia starts to gnaw on her bottom lip as the next logical question bubbles to the surface of her thoughts. It’s a question that needs to be asked. She knows it. And yet…

And yet Octavia isn’t quite sure she is prepared to hear the answer.

“Did he…” Octavia pauses as she swallows back down the lump of building emotions in the back of her throat. “Did he hurt you?”

Tears turn into full-blown sobs. Octavia wraps her arms tighter, fighting the urge to cry herself as a wave of helplessness crashes down upon her. She can feel the undiluted rage bubbling up within every inch of her body, threatening to burst forth at any given moment. 

And suddenly, all other thoughts that have been plaguing Octavia’s mind over the last few hours seem to dissipate into thin air. Leaving one-- and only one-- thought left for her to fixate in on.

Finn.

Finn Fucking Collins.

He needs to pay for all the damage that he’s caused…

No matter what.

__________

Breathe.

In through the nose and out through the mouth.

Again.

And again.

Just how Indra had taught them to do during their Krav Maga training sessions. 

Breathe in.

1… 2… 3… 4… 

And then out.

If they can focus on maintaining their breathing, then the rest of their body will naturally follow suit.

It’s the only trick that seems to work whenever O starts to feel the tell-tale signs of the “it” re-emerging. 

O exhales another deep, cleansing breath, letting the ambient sounds of the outdoor hospital courtyard wash over them. Its utter stillness is warm and comforting like they remember Abby and Jake’s bedroom closet being all those years ago. This is another one of their go-to hiding spots. Time and time again. They find themselves drawn to this particular courtyard. Their own personal sanctuary amongst the continuing chaos and uncertainty that those four walls always seemed to bring to their life. 

“I knew I’d find you here,” Clarke says as she emerges from the doorway and makes her way through the courtyard. O doesn’t respond, but simply scoots over on the wooden bench, making room for Clarke to sit down next to them. Clarke lets out a sigh and then runs her hands through her messy blonde locks. “Surprised more people don’t come out here. It’s way better than that atrium off of the lobby.”

“It’s the location. The atrium is cross from the gift shop. Everyone visits the gift shop. No one really visits the meditation lounge,” O replies motioning to the small sign of a person sitting cross-legged through the doorway.

“Good point. How’d you figure that one out?”

O shrugs. “One too many hours spent here.”

“Seriously…” Clarke says under her breath in agreement. O looks over at Clarke and quirks their head at this response causing Clarke to second guess her words. “What?”

“Nothing. I just wasn’t expecting that. Thought you loved this place since you’re in med school and all.”

Clarke lets out a harsh laugh. “Love this place? Not even close. Most days I can’t stand it.” 

O’s brow furrows in confusion. “If you can’t stand it, then why are you interning here?” 

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

Clarke shakes her head. “Stupid, right? I honestly have no clue why. I picked pre-med cause that’s what I thought I was supposed to do. Or at least according to Abby I was. And then after undergrad comes med school, so I just went with it because--”

“It was easy,” O finishes Clarke’s thought with a nod of their own. 

“Yeah. Way easier than having to take the time to figure out what I really want.” 

“I get that.” 

“Okay my turn for a question,” Clarke says, giving O a nudge in the shoulder as she does. “Why’d you drop out of college?”

“I dunno,” O mumbles. They awkwardly start to fidget, drawing circles in the gravel below with their beat-up Converse sneakers. They can feel Clarke’s warm blue eyes upon them, patiently waiting, but can’t seem to be for the life of themselves to look up and match them. 

It’s Clarke. 

By all accounts, their older sister. 

One of the few, steady constants in their life that will be there for them, regardless of the situation or how badly they fuck things up.

But what if the truth is too much?

What if she doesn’t understand?

Their relationship hasn’t been the best for quite a while now. Definitely not since their dad died… and, if they’re honest, it was strained long before that.  

O had watched as their once bursting-with-life sister, faded away into nothing more than a shell of a person but had never done anything about it. Nor even had brought it up. Talking about it would have meant running the risk of addressing all the elephants hiding in the room and that… 

That was too terrifying for words.

“Is it the same reason you and Lincoln broke up?” Clarke asks, causing O to shrink even further into themselves. O offers up the tiniest of shrugs and continues to draw circles with the toes of their shoes. “Is it cause you’re non-binary?”

The question lingers in the space between them, heavy and foreboding. 

There it is. 

The truth. 

Stripped down and bare.

The core of all of their continuous struggles and never-ending issues.

Clarke knows?

But how? 

“Hey…” O feels the weight of Clarke’s hand press down upon the top of their thigh and then gives it a reassuring squeeze. “You can talk to me. You know that, right?”

O stops with the circles. Uncontrollable tears whelm up in the corners of their eyes as their internal dam finally crumbles, letting loose a tidal wave of long-repressed emotions. They slowly look up to find a familiar set of teary blue eyes staring back at them. 

And before O can manage to their find their words, Clarke engulfs them in a bone-crushing hug. They melt, fully embracing the long-forgotten sense of security and safety that only Clarke could provide them with. The tears fall harder, and O does nothing to stop it. 

It’s been a long time coming.   

Too long.

Clarke lovingly strokes the top of O’s head and then runs her fingers over the stubble, drawing soothing circles as she does. “I really did mean it when I said I liked this.”

O sniffs back their tears. “You did?” 

“Of course I did,” Clarke smiles through tears of her own. “You look… I don’t know… You look more like you. If that makes any sense.”

“It does.” O smiles back. “It’s still all kinda new, but I’m working on it.”

“Well, as dad used to say, we’re all a work in progress, right?” Clarke takes a moment to wipe away the tears from her eyes and O nods. “So… Let’s do this.”

“Do what?”

“Talk. You and me. And no holding back either. Nothing is off-limits. Tell me everything.” 

“Everything?”

“Yes, everything. I’m so freakin’ done with the not talking,” Clarke responds with a laugh. “And I promise, no judgments, okay? I love you, no matter what.” 

“Okay.” O’s smile grows infinitely larger upon these words. 

“Good. Now let’s start with the basics. Pronouns. They/them?”

“Yeah… But I get it if that’s too hard to--”

“Stop,” Clarke says, cutting her off. “It’s not hard at all… Done. What else? Are you binding?” 

O shakes their head. “No, but I’ve looked into it. Just don’t have the cash right now to buy a decent one.”

“Then it sounds like you and I have a shopping trip in our near future.”

“Clarke…”

“What? I bought you your first bra, didn’t I? I get the honor of buying you your first binder,” Clarke replies. “Unless you want Abby to take you?”

O instantly tenses up. “God, no.”

“Does she know?” 

“No,” O responds as their teeth sink into their bottom lip. “Not really. I haven’t said anything to her. Raven did mention something about not calling me “she” when she came to check in on her, but I don’t think she put two and two together…”

“Knowing Abby, she definitely didn’t… You’re going to need to flat out tell her face-to-face.”

O sighs with impending dread. 

Clarke’s right.

But deep down inside they already knew that. 

When it comes to their mom, there’s no avoiding the inevitable. Everything that doesn’t align perfectly with her own vision of what they should and shouldn’t be doing with their life results in a verbal knockdown, drag-out fight.

Acceptance just isn’t a word that easily fits within Abby’s vocabulary… 

“I’ll do it with you.”

“What?”

“Talk to Abby,” Clarke replies. “I’ll come with you.” 

“You will?” And O can’t help but sound like they’re ten years old, voice cracking with a sliver of hopefulness.

“Of course. No one deserves to face Abby alone.” Clarke rises off of the bench and then offers her hand to O. 

“What? Like now?” O asks. They take Clarke’s hand in slight confusion.

Clarke shrugs and runs her hands through her hair once again with a determined exhale of air. “Why not? Apparently, today is national rip the band-aid off day, so we might as well.”

With that, Clarke starts to walk back towards the doorway, leaving O no other choice but to follow suit.

__________

“This is a bad idea,” O blurts out. They stop short at the sight of the ominous set of tall wooden doors only a few feet away from them, and their eyes can’t help but fixate on the single name embossed in bold black letters. 

Dr. Abigail Griffin, Chief of Medicine.  

“Absolutely,” Clarke replies as she joins O in front of the office doors. “But there’s no alternative.”

“I could always pull a Bellamy and write her an email.”

Clarke shoots O a more than skeptical look. “An email? O, do you remember how Abby reacted to that? She tried to get Marcus to use his connections with the governor to get Bellamy’s passport revoked.” 

“Right…” O sighs in resignation. “No emails.”

“Definitely no emails.”

“What about--”

“O…” Clarke gently grabs hold of O’s arm, snapping their attention away from the door. “We’re doing this. You and me. Okay? No more avoiding.” 

O nods, in response, unable to find their words, and then with a sudden burst of confidence reaches forward and knocks on the office door. They wait in the awkwardly painful silence for a moment or two for a sign-- any sign-- that they’re welcome to proceed, but nothing ever comes.

“Maybe we should come back? Maybe she’s not--”

“She’s there,” Clarke cuts her off with an exhale of air. “Post- lunch, Abby always spends at least 45 minutes in her office catching up on emails. Unless there’s a major surgery scheduled. And I already checked with Jackson earlier. He said there’s nothing on the board for today, so she’s in there. Abby lives and dies by her routine.”

O nods again, and without any further hesitation, Clarke reaches for the doorknob and pushes the door open to the office. 

And just as Clarke predicted, Abby is sitting there, behind her behemoth of a desk, so deeply engrossed in whatever is on her computer screen that she doesn’t seem to notice that she is no longer alone. 

“Jackson, I told you, I need another good 30 minutes. So tell Richards he can--” Abby says, never once looking up.

“Mom,” Clarke says as she and O make their way fully into the office. “It’s us.”

Startled, Abby stops reading and finally glances up. “Clarke? Octavia? What are you girls doing here? I thought I told Harper to get you all set up in the residents’ lounge?”

O visibly flinches at these words. 

There it is again.

Their full name. Every last syllable of it.  

But is it really their name anymore? 

Or is it just another relic from a former life that no longer fits?

And the misgendering as well. 

Like a dash of salt to an already agitated wound.

“Okay, A. we’re not twelve, so there’s no need to set us up with anything,” Clarke says, already unable to hide the annoyance in her voice. 

“Clarke…”

“And B. It’s O. Clarke and O. Not Clarke and Octavia.”

Abby gives a poignant eye roll and then pinches the bridge of her nose for added effect. “I don’t have time for a game of semantics. If your sister wants to be called only by her nickname, then--”

“It’s not a nickname,” O interrupts, stopping Abby dead in her tracks. “It’s… It’s my name. O. Not Octavia.” 

O feels Clarke’s hand silently slip into theirs and gives it a reassuring squeeze of encouragement. They take a deep breath and swallow down the lump of uncertainty rising within their throat. “And I’d prefer it if you didn’t use she or her when referring to me.”

“Then what the hell am I supposed to use?” Abby fires back. “He/him?”

“No. They/them.” 

“That’s ridiculous,” Abby scoffs, and O feels a second, more predominant squeeze from Clarke.

“Abby…” Clarke growls.

“Don’t ‘Abby’ me, Clarke. I’ve more than humored the countless acts of rebellion that both of you girls have put me--”

“Are you even listening? They just asked you not to use female pronouns.”

“I heard that.”

“That includes the terms ‘girls’ too, Mom.” 

“Jesus.” Abby lets out another exasperated sigh. “I’m not doing this. Not here. Not today. If you want to sit down and talk like grown adults, then I’m more than happy to do schedule some time for all of us to chat this weekend at home.”

“Schedule some time? Do you even hear yourself?”

Now it’s O’s turn to squeeze Clarke’s hand. They can see the tell-tale warning signs from a mile away. One or two more verbal jabs and a nuclear implosion of epic portions is all but guaranteed. 

And as much as their heart is bursting at the moment with undiluted love and admiration for their older sister, they know that nothing good will come from continuing to hammer home this point. But Clarke is notoriously stubborn… Especially when it comes to anything remotely involving Abby.

“Clarke… Just drop it,” O pleads under her breath, but Clarke pretends not to hear it. 

“Clarke Abigail Griffin. You are treading on very thin ice, young lady. If your father was--” 

“Was what? Alive? If dad were alive, he sure as hell wouldn’t be suggesting that we ‘schedule time’ to talk. In fact, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation to begin with. He would’ve just gotten it. Like he always did with everything.”

“That’s a pretty bold assumption, even by your standards,” Abby replies, words dripping with sarcasm. “You don’t even have the first clue what your father would or wouldn’t have accepted--” 

“Dad knew,” O blurts out, give both Clarke and Abby an instant case of whiplash. They stare at them, each one wearing a similar look of sheer puzzlement.

“He knew?” Clarke asks, eyes searching O’s for any inkling of an answer. 

O nods as a hint of a smile appears upon their face. “Yeah. We never really talked about it. Not in specifics or anything. But he knew. Dad stopped calling me Octavia two years before he passed.” 

Clarke matches O’s smile with one of her own. “He knew.” 

Blindsided with the sudden overwhelming urge to fill in the blanks even further for their sister, O goes to open their mouth, but before they can even utter another single word, the office door bursts open.

“Dr. Griffin!” Jackson shouts, frantic and slightly out of breath.

“Jackson?” Abby questions as her whole demeanor instantly flips into chief mode. 

“We’ve been trying to reach you,” Jackson glances over towards Clarke and O and then back at Abby. “We need you. Now. Room 315 just coded.”

Room 315.

The number slices through O’s soul, leaving a path of invisible destruction in its wake.

It’s Raven’s room.

Abby springs up from her desk and without a moment’s hesitation, bolt for the door with Jackson right on her heels.

“O…” Clarke says, with a voice suddenly filled with dread and fear.

“It’s Raven.”

[huilianwrites]

Seven Things I Learned in the First Seven Weeks of Uni

I wanted to post this after six weeks of university, because it marks exactly one half of my first semester here, but things happen, and so enjoy seven things I learn in my first seven weeks of uni. Because apparently university is full of deadlines and stress. But isn’t that all life, anyway. 

1. Getting to know new people is exhausting, but it’s worth it

Meeting new people can be exhausting. Going to uni with no friends going to the same uni? Doubly exhausting. Practically every single person I met in the last seven weeks are new people to me. It’s exhausting trying to juggle all the names and faces and where I met all of them. It’s exhausting having to spend mental energy to introduce myself to someone, and waiting for the dreaded judgement that would definitely come. It’s not just exhausting, but also frustrating, to be left out of certain groups. But as time went on (seven weeks of it), I realized that those people who left me out from their group, I didn’t really want to hang out with anyway. The people that I want to hang out with, that I want to actually spend my time with, is there with me, and making that new connection to people has been more than worth it. Most of the people here are also like me, going from knowing no one to hopefully knowing enough people to form a friend group practically by the end of the week. It’s just a matter of finding the right people whom you can connect with. Besides, now I get more than enough materials for stories for my friends and family back home, so it’s going to be very entertaining to tell these stories.

2. Bureaucracy can be frustrating

I’m pretty sure that everyone knows this, but really, bureaucracy is extremely frustrating. I kept getting shuffled from one office to another whenever I want to ask for something, or get something done. Getting my midterms rescheduled because I have a class conflict is a pain to handle, and I hope I do not have to do that again, but I definitely will have to do it again. I went from emailing my professor, to reading the syllabus (It’s in the syllabus. Not really!!), to going to the course administrator who is, it turns out, different than the course coordinator! It’s just a pain to go through that bureaucracy, and wasting time going from one office to another, only to get reshuffled to another office. I get why they would do that, because they need people concentrating on just one thing, but by god this is frustrating. And don’t think this is just the school bureaucracy. The student government bureaucracy can be hell to manage too, until I can’t even understand which student body represented whom. Practice for the ‘real world’ I guess, because apparently now my government forgot who they’re supposed to be representing! (Ignore this, this is just a part of my rant on my government. Moving on.) 

3. Crying is okay. 

Whoever suddenly decided that crying is not okay need to try it, because crying pretty much every week helped me go through this six weeks at uni. My biology teacher at high school once told my class that crying regularly helped clean out the basal tears in your eyes, and it needed cleaning, otherwise it’ll just stay there and do nothing. Besides, crying really helped get out my emotions, which is ranging from exhaustion of meeting new people, exhaustion of things to do, fear that this whole uni thing is not going to go well, and longing for home. It just released it all, and so by the end of my crying session, I could put all those emotions aside and actually do some work, instead of trying to hold all that emotions and end up doing no work at all. I now have a playlist of songs I could almost always cry to, and a bunch of stories that I could read and then cry, because sometimes just letting myself feel all that emotions wasn’t enough to cry (it has been repressed for too long). So yeah, cry your heart out. Cry alone in your room before bed, like I almost always do, or find someone you can cry to while they listen. It’s up to you whether you want to cry alone or in front of people you trust enough to cry in front of, but you need to cry sometimes instead of just bottling it in. 

4. Grasp opportunities

There is a LOT of opportunities around campus, that sometimes I have no idea whether or not I’ll have enough time to do all of them. And sometimes to do them you need to audition or register, and maybe you won’t be able to get it. Sometimes it’ll be open to all. Sometimes there are two opportunities at the same time and you just have to choose between them. Sometimes you have class at the time that event happen. It doesn’t matter. There will be more events eventually. There is always something happening in my campus that if I want to, I can walk around campus, find one, and just join in. There are the residences events, there are the student unions’ events, there are the programs’ events, there are clubs’ events, and there are events that are just there for the heck of it. Try to go to as much as you can, because you won’t regret it. Most of the best experiences I have in this six weeks (it’s only been six weeks, who am I to tell? But seriously) are from joining events that I have no idea what it is and are only there for the free food (there is a lot of free food on my campus. You just have to know where to find it). Go to events you never thought you’ll be interested it. If you don’t like it, at least you’ve tried it. If you do like it, hey, even better! Try classes (drop in classes are the best because they require virtually no comitment at all!). Try going to meetings you don’t feel like going to, because maybe you’ll find it interesting enough to go to regularly. Just try things. Uni is for trying things, right? 

5. Make your voice heard

I joined my first major strike in uni, and that is the climate strike happening across the world right now. I’ve always been an outspoken girl, but in university, with a class of over four, five hundred people, you can easily get lost. Make your voice heard, whether in class, or in issues you care about. (Climate change is a good one, if you’re looking for an issue to fight for). Ask for things. The worst thing they can do is say no. Advocate for yourself, because no one else is going to do it for you. Claim your needs and wants, and shout them to people (maybe not literally). Be, not just exist, because existing requires no input from you, and do you really want to spend the rest of your life like that? Make your voice heard in the middle of hundreds of other voices, and stand for them.

6. You will miss the ‘good old days’

When I was doing high school, I can’t wait for it to end. I count the days until I graduate. Now I actually miss it. Not the work nor the stress, but I miss the people and the familiarity of my school. I’ve spent six years in it, and it has become a safe space for me, even through all the stress. I know what awaits for me in high school, and I know how to handle that. University is all new. I go to university abroad, so literally everything is new. New friends, as mentioned above, new language to learn in, new surroundings, and even new weather that I had to get used to pretty quick. I knew all of this going in, and I deliberately chose this university because I want to go out of my comfort zone. I like doing that, but at the same time, I do miss the good old days when I know perfectly clear what is going on on a daily basis. Knowing that, I would probably miss these days too when I’m done with my undergrad, and so I will try to savour this experience as much as I can. 

7. Take the time to rest

You need the time to rest. I try to get a solid 7 hours of sleep each night, and honestly, I still feel sleep deprived. I think it’s because at high school, I spent a lot of time commuting and I could easily take a nap in the car, and now I either walk or take the train everywhere, so no napping for me anymore. But more than just sleep, you need to rest. Take the time to do things really unrelated to your program. Go out with your friends. I’ll admit I’m quite bad at this, because, once again, every friend I have here is new and I don’t want the mental effort to do that, but you have to let loose once in a while. You’ll come back refreshed, and if you’re refreshed, you’ll be able to do things much more efficiently than if you’re just trying to power through it anyway. Go get some rest! 

[nextcassie]

Your Scent 1

Summary: Nothing could have prepared you for the shit storm that was your junior year of college. Discovering you were an omega was only the first discovery in a long line of complicated ones. Thank goodness Min Yoongi was there to help.A story about college and discovering what you like and don't like in both romantic relationships and friendships.

Abo Au - University AU

Pairing: Main-Min Yoongi/Reader ; OT7/Reader

Chapter words: 4255

 | 2 |

Beginning A/N

. There are a few things though that I want to say before we kick off this story. One is that this story is going to be incredibly kinky, I am just making that clear up front. There won’t be any blood play or anything too hardcore, but it will be kinkier than the average story more than likely.

Two, for this story I intend for the reader to be a few things. One is that she is intelligent, but being intelligent doesn’t exempt people from making questionable decisions. Two is that she is not Korean, but is fluent enough to get into a Korean university, more of that will be explained throughout the story. Three is that she is a mixed race female with dark skin. Yes she has DARK skin. If you have an issue with that you can leave. However, I will more than likely leave the description of her skin color out of the writing because nothing turns me as a dark skin female off more than “his hands trailed down your pale skin”. I mention this because if you’re someone who uses that description in a reader insert, please stop.

Third is this is going to touch on a variety of different issues that I’m sure many people may disagree on. These are all going to have to do with race and sexuality more often than not. I’m not going to go into specific political issues, but if you are politically informed than you may recognize some of the stuff.

Lastly, at the beginning of every chapter will be warnings for the chapter in case content might be something that you may not be into or may cause incredible discomfort for some people. As well as need to know definitions and explanations for the AU in each of these chapters.

Warnings: : Drinking and smut

Gender Much like our world people are assigner a sex based on what genitalia they possess. Gender is the same as it is in our world people choosing to identify whatever they decide be it female, male, or fluid. However, in addition to these are sub-genders. Sub-genders are in a way something a person cannot choose, but many believe that the way a person acts is what determines these sub-genders when people present. The sub-genders are alpha, beta, and omega.

Enjoy the first chapter!

Your Saturday had started out like any other day. With a nice breakfast and you calmly looking at the news on your laptop. Unlike most college students your age, you were known for being incredibly calm and put together. Your professors had mentioned this more than once and your classmates generally commented on it any chance they got. For the most part, it was a good thing. However, you not being so ready to go out and do things often got those around you to try and drag you out to things.

Your two best friends Mark and Jackson often dragged you out of your dorm to go for runs in the morning. The only reason that you hadn’t gone today was because according to Jackson, Mark had started his rut and was in no shape to go running. Jackson wanted to go lift weights and you had no interest in being that sore the next day. So, the beginning of your day had been relaxing, but now it was anything but.

You lived with three other roommates. There was Sana who was a beta like you. The girl was unbelievably cute, but pretty out there now and then. Momo was your other roommate who despite being an alpha was oozing with ageyo. It was actually quite disgusting at times, but hard to resist. The last roommate was Tzuyu. She was a sharp-tongued alpha that you personally never wanted to mess with. It wasn’t like she was constantly threatening anyone, but she could definitely intimidate people with a meaningful glare. She was your newest roommate having moved in for her first year just earlier this week. She was already famous though for being incredibly beautiful.

The reason why you’re thinking about them is because you’re pissed at them. The three of them combined had managed to get you out of the house and to some ridiculous house party. Normally house parties weren’t the worst thing that someone could force to go to, that would be night clubs. However, it was because Momo and Sana wanted to try and set you up with an alpha that you had been crushing on. The only problem was that he was known to only date omegas.

You personally had no issues with being a beta. Some people liked it some people hated it. The only thing that was surprising was that you hadn’t gone into a beta heat once. Which meant that you were a late bloomer. It just happened that was all going to change later that night.

OOOOOOOO

“You’re cute, so I don’t think it will really matter if you’re an omega or not,” Momo said, sipping on her beer.

“Everyone is aware that Jinyoung only dates omegas,” you said. You were on your second drink of the incredibly strong punch that the party’s hosts had provided. By the time you finished this one, it would probably be enough, so that you were pleasantly buzzed.

“It doesn’t hurt to try right,” Sana said. She had a positive smile on her face as she tried to encourage you.

“It hurts my pride,” you stated. You downed the rest of the drink quickly looking for an excuse to escape your friends. “I need another drink. I’ll be right back.”

You made your way back to the kitchen, moving past the sweaty and hormonal bodies. When you go there you found Jinyoung pouring more vodka into the punch bowl. You should have known that this was his party.

“Hey (y/n) what’s up?” he asked once he noticed you.

“Getting more punch,” you stated. You cringed on the inside at how squeaky your voice sounded. “What about you?”

“Making more punch.” He paused for a moment and his eyes met yours. “Are you feeling okay? Your face looks a little red.”

You knew that at that comment your cheeks had probably become redder. You placed a hand to your cheek and felt that you were burning up.

“Uhh… I don’t think there’s anything wrong,” you replied.

Jinyoung set the bottle of vodka down and moved to press a hand to your forehead. You felt a wave of heat go through your body and felt the urge to present your neck to him. You swatted his hand away and Jinyoung gave you a surprised look.

“I’m going to pee,” you stuttered out.

You made a run for the stairs feeling that wave of heat happen again as you smelled the scent of chocolate and again at the smell of coconut. You had no idea what was going on, but your body temperature was increasing at an alarming rate and you felt yourself getting wetter.

When you reached the top of the steps your senses were invaded by the scent of fresh pine as you stared up at a man. Your mind screamed alpha as you looked into his dark eyes. His black hair framed his confused looking pale face as he stared down at you.

“Help…” you moaned at him.

OOOOOOO

Yoongi hated parties, especially house parties where one could accidentally walk in on some couple going at it. His normal plan of attack was to find an empty room and stay in it by himself until it was socially acceptable for him to leave. Perhaps if he was still an undergrad than he would enjoy them, but he was now a graduate student and felt no need to interact with the immature undergraduates.

However, Hoeseok had insisted that they go. He had backup from Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook, so that had left Yoongi with no chance of getting out of this.

Yoongi had been about to leave when a stumbling and scared looking omega had come up the stairs. His nose had been assaulted with the scent of peppermint as she stared helplessly at him with doe eyes. A scared omega was unfortunately not to uncommon at these parties, but this one definitely stood out. She was a foreigner which was something not to common in their university or at least western foreigners weren’t too common.

“Help…” her voice was weak and confused. Despite the scent of arousal rolling off her she didn’t seem to be asking him for help of the sexually kind.

Yoongi moved instantly without thought to help her. She was going into heat. This had to be one of the most dangerous places for her, where any drunk idiotic college asshole could try and take advantage of her.

“Get on my back,” Yoongi instructed.

The second he turned around the girl instantly flung herself onto his back clinging onto his favorite leather jacket like her life depended on it.

He began to make his way outside to the yard. Quickly weaving between the bodies that were probably starting to become aware of the omega’s intoxicating scent.

“Which building do you live in?” he asked. They weren’t too far away from campus. He could probably get her back before the worst of it hit.

“Alpha/Beta building four,” she replied.

Yoongi stopped. That was impossible. The girl was clearly an omega her living in that building would pose a threat to her safety. If she was mated she would be living in one of the mating buildings.

“Do you have anyone I can call for you?” Yoongi asked.

“Tzuyu…” you said.

Yoongi paused. That was one of the Alpha’s in Jungkook’s orientation group. That probably wasn’t a good idea. He knew for a fact that Tzuyu was unmated and didn’t have an omega.

“Do you have any omega friends that I can call for you?” Yoongi asked.

“Why? I should be fine with Tzuyu,” you mumbled. You moved your head into the crook his neck and Yoongi felt himself freeze as you inhaled his scent.

“You’re having an omega heat. You’ll be safest with an omega,” he stated.

“Alpha help me.” Yoongi felt a shiver go through his body at the sincere words.

The girl’s grip tightened around him and it was clear that the effects of the heat were surely getting stronger. He felt the girl slowly move to the point where she was nuzzling close to his scent gland and he felt like the contact was all too intimate for someone he didn’t know well and someone who didn’t really know what she was doing. As much as he would love to let her do it, he couldn’t. He skillfully adjusted her on his back away from his scent gland.

Yoongi tugged his phone out of his pocket and clumsily sent his location to a friend. It was a bit difficult with the death grip you had on his body.

Yoongi had always been known as an odd alpha. Alpha’s were normally tall and strong, stereotypically all muscle and no brains. They were known for being aggressive and able to dominate others at any time, so they were high on the dominance spectrum. However, the one thing that Yoongi prided himself on was his self-control that many alphas seemed to lack. With the way you were so trustingly nuzzling into his neck, just barely missing his scent gland, he was surprised that he hadn’t lost control yet.

“Yah, Hyung what was so urgent that you had to…” a voice yelled. Jimin had stop running toward him and glanced at the girl hanging off his back.

Jimin was an interesting person to say the least. He had the whole cute thing going for him, but there was something incredibly strong in his presence. Yoongi knew that Jimin had faced a lot of issues when he had found out he was an omega. He just didn’t fit the normal omega stereotype, not that Jimin really cared.

“What the hell is going on hyung?” Jimin asked.

“You still have that vacant room in your omega apartment, right?” Yoongi asked.

“Yeah…”

“She keeps telling me she lives in an Alpha/Beta building. Can you take her to your place for her heat?”

“Yeah… there’s no way that she can stay in an Alpha/Beta building. The girl reeks of omega.”

“No kidding,” Yoongi muttered. He was perfectly aware of how you smelled. He was also beginning to feel a buzz of arousal through him. “Do you think you can get her back by yourself?”

“Sure, it should be no problem,” Jimin responded. “Hi there you’re going to come with me. We’re going to get you to a nice safe place.”

Jimin reached out and tried to pull you away from Yoongi, but you merely tightened your grip on him and pressed closer into his leather jacket. Jimin kept cooing at you, trying to get you off him and you only held tighter on him, and Yoongi wasn’t sure what to do.

“Feel safe, don’t want to go,” you whispered.

Yoongi felt your words tug at his heart strings. He knew that no matter how much he prided himself on his control, he couldn’t guarantee that you would feel safe with him when this wave died down. You couldn’t give him consent at this point in time and he would take advantage of you if left long enough with you in heat like this.

“Listen, I need you to go with Jimin okay,” Yoongi started. “He is going to help you like I can’t right now. Go with him okay?”

Yoongi felt you loosen your grip on him and try to stand on your own, but you let out a loud moan and your legs gave out. Thankfully, Jimin was there to catch you, but Yoongi needed to get away. Your scent was becoming increasingly potent and he could feel a heat stirring in his gut.

“Hyung, your jacket,” Jimin said.

“What?”

“Give me your jacket,” Jimin said. “Your scent should be able to help her through this heat. I can get it back to you after she’s done with it.”

Yoongi hesitated for a moment, but peeled it off before tossing it to Jimin who caught it.

“Do you want me to walk with you there?” he asked.

“Normally, I would say yes, but Hyung.” Yoongi cocked an eyebrow at him. “You’re clearly aroused and I suggest you do something about it.”

Yoongi clicked his tongue. Damn hormones were out to get him.

OO00OO

What was this guy’s name? Jimin that was it. Your mind was kind of all over the place at the moment, but it could register that Jimin had taken you back to his dorm like the alpha earlier had said. He had set you in a room and had brought back pillows and blankets, but it was hard to stay focused. The burning and itching sensation you had felt earlier was downright painful at this point.

Beta heats were supposed to be mild and pass easily, but you had never imagined that it would be this painful. Sana had never had any issues with hers like this.

“Hey…” Jimin’s voice drew your mind from the thoughts. “(y/n), right?”

You nodded your head and moved to look at him. At this point though your vision was getting blurry and it was hard to focus on him.

“Do you understand me?” Jimin asked. You nodded your head at him. “Good. I’ve contacted your roommates and they know what’s going on. You’re having an omega heat.”

“But I’m a beta?” you replied.

“Yeah, that’s something we’re going to have to talk about when you’re a bit more with it. You’re having an omega heat and that means you need to orgasm or I’m going to have to take you to the hospital eventually.”

Despite everything you let out a bitter laugh. Why was this happening to you?

“How?”

“Excuse me?” Jimin seemed confused.

“How do I orgasm?” you asked. Was that the right word? God, you could tell your Korean was starting to go.

“You mean you never…” Jimin trailed off. “Umm… well shit. You just you know, touch yourself.”

You felt another painful burst in your body and you whimpered loudly. Okay this wasn’t going anywhere. The only thing that seemed to be happening was your body hurting more and slick noticeably starting to soak through your clothes.

“Can you I don’t know help me?” you asked. “Just the first time.”

“I don’t know if I—”

“Please,” you begged.

“Just the first time,” Jimin said.

You saw his blurred form move closer to you and suddenly the fresh scent of oranges filled your senses. Now that Jimin had moved closer you could make out more of him.

Jimin was most definitely built solid, he had to be to have gotten you over here, but that was now all the more obvious to you now. For the first time, you were looking at his face. He had a captivating face. His eyes were serious as he moved closer checking you for any doubt and his lips looked absolutely kissable. He was probably incredibly attractive, but right now it didn’t really matter as long as he helped you. He maneuvered himself, so that he sat behind you with his arms comfortingly wrapping around you.

“Okay… shit what do you? How should I?” He couldn’t seem to make up his mind what to do. “Are my fingers okay?”

“Yes, just please do something!” you whined out.

“But like are you really sure?”

“Yes!”

You heard him mutter something, but finally he slid his hand under your skirt. His hands felt almost cooling against your burning skin and you let out a loud moan when his fingers gently brushed over your clothed core.

“Okay, so I think the easiest way to get off for girls is probably to just stimulating the clit, so I’m going to do that,” Jimin instructed. “Light circles, slapping, pinching stuff like that. Maybe experiment and find out what you like?”

You wanted to yell at him to hurry up again, but his had finally slipped inside your panties and you were in heaven. Your head instantly thrown back on his shoulder as Jimin rubbed tight little circles on your clit.

“Oh, wow you’re wet,” he whispered in your ear. “Even for an omega you’re wet. You must really be feeling it.”

You moaned out a little agreement and he started rubbing circles faster and you felt yourself tensing and relaxing all at the same time as you could tell you were approaching your climax.

“God you’re beautiful,” Jimin said. You let out a laugh.

“I was thinking you weren’t so bad yourself,” you replied.

“What?” he asked. Shit you spoke in English. “Don’t worry just relax. You’re almost there.”

Your hands found purchase and gripped onto Jimin’s solid thighs as his fingers pressed down harder and moved faster over you.

“Come on move your hips with me,” he instructed. You complied right away and were rewarded with absolute bliss from the feeling.

It only took a few more movements and you were coming and whimpering at the clenching of your core. You felt dazed and the heat was still burning, but Jimin kissed your hair softly before moving away from you. You moaned at the loss.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t keep helping you,” he said. He brought over a jacket and the fresh scent of pine hit your senses. You instantly placed the jacket to your nose to inhale more of the soothing scent. “Breathe into this and do what I just did. I’ll bring you food and water, but you have to do the rest of it yourself. Okay?”

“Okay,” you responded.

“That’s a good girl.” You moaned at the endearment causing him to curse. “Whoever ends up with you is going to have to be careful not to spoil you rotten. If you need anything I’ll be right outside don’t worry you’re safe.”

With that Jimin left you to your own devices.

OO00OO

It was about four days later when you emerged from the room into the common area of the dorm sore and probably looking like a mess. Jimin was sitting at the counter with a book open and a cup of iced coffee. He offered you a small smile.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“A bit like I got hit by a truck,” you replied.

“That’s good and normal,” he replied. He paused for a moment. “So how are you taking the whole omega thing?”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“Most people are disappointed when they turn out to be an omega. You know, wage gap and all those other things,” Jimin said.

“Ehh… It was unexpected, but I’m fine with it,” you replied. “The coolest person I know is an omega.”

“Coolest person you know?”

“My dad. My mom’s a beta and they had me kind of late in the game. Their relationship wasn’t too accepted at the time,” you answered.

Jimin paused for a moment looking like he wanted to press you for more, but he didn’t.

“So what are you going to do now?” Jimin asked.

“I guess, I’m going to have to go to the housing office and see if they have any open omega housing,” you answered. “Pick up my books and contact some of my professors. I missed the first two days of class, so I guess I should try to catch up.”

“Well, I hope you don’t mind but… I told the housing office you could stay here,” Jimin said. “I talked to my other roommates and they thought it would be fine. They’re actually pretty good friends with your roommates.”

“No that makes my life ten times easier,” you said. You offered him a small smile. “How soon can I move in?”

“Umm immediately if you can,” Jim said. “It’s uncommon, but sometimes a second heat can happen if an omega presents late. It would be better for you to move in here in case that happens.”

“It’s like I’m going through puberty all over again…”

Jimin chuckled at that.

“If you want I can call some of my friends to come help grab stuff if you want to go now.”

“No don’t worry about it…” You trailed off. “Do you happen to have my cell phone?”

“It’s in the living room charging. Sorry I used it to try and call people for you. You should really put a lock on that thing.”

“I’ve got nothing to hide,” you called, moving to the living room. You picked up your phone when you found it and dialed Jackson.

“Wei?”

“Xianzai ni mang bu mang?” you asked. (Are you busy right now?)

“Bu mang. Tzuyu gaosu wo ni shi yi ge omega. Ta shou huang le ma?” (Now I’m not busy. Tzuyu told me you’re an omega. Is she lying?)

“Dangrang ta bu shou huang le. Wo zhende shi yi ge omega. Wo xuyao bangjia. Ni keyi bang wo ma?” (Of course she didn’t lie. I’m really an omega. I need to move. Could you help me?)

“Keyi, keyi. Ji dian?” (Yeah I can. When?)

“Wo yao xizao. Xizao yihou wo gei ni da dianhua, hao ma?” (I want to shower. After I shower how about I call you to help?)

“Hao de.” (Sounds good.)

“Xie xie ni.” (Thank you.)

“Meishi.” (Don’t worry about it.)

You hung up the phone and turned around to see Jimin with his jaw wide open.

“You speak Chinese too?” he asked.

“I speak Mandarin well yes. I never quite got the hang of Cantonese though. My Mandarin is way better than my Korean.”

“Your Korean is really good though,” Jimin said. “A lot of foreigners have more of an accent when speaking, but yours is pretty unnoticeable.”

“Thanks, but I still have a lot to know.”

“You mean learn.”

“See I just proved my own point. Do you mind if I grab a quick shower?”

“Not at all. The green towel is mine so feel free to use it.”

“Thanks.”

You went to go shower and took a deep breath. This was weird, but you were going to have to get used to it.

OO00OO

“Baobei!” Jackson said. Without further ado, he gave you a bone crushing hug and the his somewhat metallic scent filled your senses.

“My friend is here so speak Korean,” you said, returning the hug so that he would finally let go of you. He didn’t though he just kept you in your arms.

“Oh hello!” Jackson said, noticing Jimin for the first time. "Jackson Wang. Nice to meet you!”

“Uhh… Park Jimin,” Jimin said, looking at you. He looked equal parts confused and worried. “Is this guy your boyfriend?”

“No. He’s really more of a family friend than my friend,” you replied. “I just called him because I needed some more muscle.”

“Aww don’t be like that.” Jackson finally removed his arms from around you. “I asked Mark to meet us at your old dorm. Hope you don’t mind.”

“That’s fine.”

“Shall we head out then?” Jimin said with a smile.

“Yeah… Ugh I hate packing things this is going to be a nightmare,” you said.

“Getting your heat for the first time at a house party is most people’s worst nightmare,” Jimin said.

“You got it at a party?” Jackson asked. “You went to a party? You never go to parties. Maybe this is some mystical force’s way of telling you that you shouldn’t party.”

You let out a scoff at that, but part of you agreed with him. The one time you went out you get your heat. Only something that terrible would happen to you, but it turned out just fine.

“Oh, (y/n) not to be pushy, but my friend really wants his jacket back,” Jimin said, with an awkward chuckle. “It’s his favorite one.”

“Like an alpha’s jacket?” Jackson asked. Jackson grinned at you and he rolled his eyes. “So, you’re finally interested in someone. Oho this is juicy gossip. Who does the jacket belong to?”

“I don’t know and I don’t really remember much, but he was nice enough to get me away from the party,” you said. “Please drop it Jackson. It’s still in the room I was in during my heat, Jimin.”

“Wait if you’re an omega and Mark’s an alpha does this mean the two of you are going to leave me alone to rot by myself?”

“Probably not,” you replied.

“Man I was really hoping you would finally get some or be motivated to get some,” Jackson said.

“Wow you’re really straight forward,” Jimin commented.

“Oh, this is him on his best behavior unfortunately,” you said. “He knows you need to like him, so that he can try to come over and eat all the food in our dorm.”

“You do like alpha’s though, right?” Jackson asked.

“Well…” you trailed off in thought. Your mind floated back to how Jimin had helped you at the beginning of your heat. “The only thing I know for sure is that omegas are also okay.”

Jimin choked on air as he must have realized what you had been thinking of. Jackson looked between the two of you. Before you could react, Jackson was already lunging at Jimin, pushing him against the wall.

“What the hell did you do to her you—” You hit Jackson over the head cutting him off.

“Nothing I seriously didn’t ask for. Calm down or you’re going to look like even more of an idiot.”

There were already quite a few students staring at the three of you. You pushed Jackson aside and grabbed Jimin’s hand, tugging him along.

“Seriously Jackson, you’re an idiot.”

“Baobei!” he whined.

“Jimin, can you please tell Jackson I’m not going to talk to him until he apologizes to you,” you said, turning to Jimin.

“Sorry Jimin…” Jackson muttered.

Jimin grinned at that.

“It’s amazing how well you trained him.”

“Oh Jackson is nothing, you should see Mark,” you said with a smile.

You guessed that this whole omega thing wouldn’t be that hard. Well not as hard as calculus was anyway.

[walkerismychoice]

For Law and Love - Chapter 2

Book: Desire and Decorum - Modern day AU

Paring: Ernest Sinclaire X MC

Raiting: PG

Summary: It’s Anna’s first day of class at Harvard and she sees a familiar face (or two!) in her Business Law class

Count: 1746

Law and Love Master List  - Catch up here

8am Monday morning came all too soon. As Anna shut off her alarm, she wondered what compelled her to schedule Business Law, of all classes, at 9am. She quickly showered and got ready so she had time to stop at then coffee shop on the way, as caffeine would be vital in keeping her awake in this class.

Anna arrived in the lecture hall with 10 minutes to spare, and found a seat towards the middle. As the hall filled in, a pretty girl with long, black hair and dark brown eyes sat in the chair next to her.

"You look like someone I could get along with. Hi, I'm Annabelle." The girl had a spirit about her that put Anna at ease.

"Hi, I'm Anna. Just Anna, no Belle." She laughed nervously at her lame joke.

"You're adorable. Nice to meet Anna...So, are you new here? I haven't seen you in any of my classes before."

"Yeah, I just transferred from Columbia. I decided to completely change course from majoring in dance to business. I decided to make my father happy and go to law school to fulfill the family legacy," Anna explained.

"Not to stereotype, but I thought there was something different about you." Annabelle glanced obviously around the room. "You stand out...in a good way."

"Thanks...I think?"

"Trust me, it's definitely a good thing." Annabelle winked at Anna.

"You dont strike me as a typical business student either....As you said, not to stereotype or anything." Anna giggled.

"You mean because I'm not a total bore? Oops did I say that out loud?" Annabelle's lips curved into a smile. "I'm a marketing major actually, so a little more on the creative side of things, but this class fills a requirement."

"Well, since I'm going into corporate law, I should probably pay attention and try to do well. Speaking of which, looks like it's about to start."

Anna watched as a man about her father's age approached the stage. He wasn't bad looking for an older guy, but he had an air about him that screamed conceited more than confident, and when he spoke this was confirmed. "Good morning and welcome to Business Law. I'm professor Richards. I'm teaching this class as a favor this semester, so you all have the privilege of being taught by one of the top professors at Harvard law, which is not something most undergrads get to experience. I'm a busy man between teaching law school courses and consulting on high profile cases, so I will be relying heavily on my teaching assistants for grading and any assistance needed outside of class hours.”

Annabelle snorted. “We are all should be honored to be in the great professor’s presence...right.”

“He seems a little full of himself.” Anna observed.

“Hah, a little? He has quite the reputation around here as I’m sure you’ll find out. Sounds like we are lucking out that he doesn’t have to time of day for us.”

“And now to introduce my teaching assistants, all of whom are all second year law students. Hamid Prince...”

A tall, dark, and handsome man with black hair and deep brown eyes stood up in the first row and turned to wave to the class.

“He’s cute,” Anna muttered under her breath, unintentionally loud enough for Annabelle to hear.

“I suppose if you like that type,” Annabelle replied.

“What type?” Anna questioned.

“Male.” Annabelle chuckled and Anna followed.

“Well then we won’t ever have to worry about falling for the same guy.”

“Nope Anna, you can have them all.”

“...And then we have Luke Harper.”

“Oh my god, I know him!” Anna exclaimed. “He was my brother Harry’s best friend.

Annabelle cocked her head to the side. “Was?”

“It’s...Anna struggled to find the right words. She didn’t feel like crying in her first class or putting a new friend she’d known for 15 minutes in the awkward position of not knowing how to respond to her depressing story. She been through that enough in the past couple months. “I’d rather tell you later if you don’t mind.”

Annabelle must have sensed something in Anna’s demeanor because she was happy to change the subject. “Not a problem.”

“...And last but not least, Ernest Sinclaire.”

There was something very familiar about the man, and as he turned around, it hit her. “Oh...I know him too. Well kind of. He almost trampled me in the book store. He could hardly be bothered to say sorry.”

“Sounds like he left quite the impression on you.” Annabelle smirked. “He’s that handsome, broody type that comes off all serious but is probably wild in bed.”

“Annabelle! Hush...Fine, I think he’s kind of hot, but he seems like a jerk, so none of that really matters. Plus, what kind of name is Ernest anyway? Are we in the 1800s?”

“Uh-huh.” Annabelle wasn’t buying it, and Anna couldn’t blame her. Anna was inexplicably attracted to this man who would probably never give her the time of day. It didn’t even make sense. Ernest seemed too serious, maybe a bit pretentious, and not her typical type at all. He had a handsome face, but didn’t ooze sex appeal like Hamid. For all she knew he didn’t have teeth because he didn’t appear to know how to smile. He was dressed nice in a white button-down shirt and khaki’s but he stood out as being a bit overdressed compared to Hamid and Luke who wore jeans and t-shirts. But she’s felt something in that brief moment in the book store, and seeing him now stirred up those feelings again.

“Anyway, I wonder why Professor Richards doesn’t have any female T.A.s,” Anna pondered, trying to change the subject as quickly as possible.

“You know how I said he has a reputation?” Annabelle answered. “I don’t think you could pay most of the female law students to work with him. If the rumors are true, he’s a real scumbag.”

Anna shuddered. “I kind of get that vibe.”

The rest of class was uneventful - mostly just going over the syllabus and getting an into to the class subject matter with more than a couple tales of the professors personal accomplishments thrown in. This was going to be a long semester, but thankfully she had Annabelle to suffer through class with her.

“I’m going to go say hi to Luke.” Anna told Annabelle as soon a class ended.

“I’ve gotta run to my next class, so I’ll catch you later. Annabelle pulled out her phone. “Here, give me your number and I’ll text you mine.”

Anna made her way to the front of the class after the numbers were exchanged. Luke’s face lit up when he saw her. “Hey, little Edgewater! Bring it here.” Luke opened his arms and Anna leaned into his embrace. Luke and Harry had become fast friends their freshman year of undergrad.  Since Luke’s parents were across the country in California and didn’t have money to fly him back during breaks, he often came home with Harry. Anna hadn’t seen him since Harry’s funeral, and it brought up a mix of emotions, but mostly she was happy to have another reminder of Harry nearby. 

“Edgewater?” Anna hadn’t noticed but Ernest was still standing at the front of the room near Luke and Hamid. “Are you Harry’s sister?”

Anna, shocked at both his interest in the conversation and hearing her bother’s name come from his lips, turned to Ernest. “You knew Harry?”

“Of course he did.” Hamid chimed in. “Harry was friends with everyone - even with recluses like Sinclaire over here.” A scowl crept up on Ernest’s face but he didn’t respond. “I knew Harry had a sister, but he never mentioned how stunningly gorgeous she was.” Hamid’s smile was as charming as his words.

“Come on, Hamid,” Luke shook his head. “Anna’s like my little sister.”

“I’m sure Harry would appreciate you looking out for me Luke, but I’m not 15 anymore.” Although Ernest was silent, Anna couldn’t help but glance out of the corner of her eye to see his reaction. His features were still, as if set in stone, but his piercing blue eyes were fixed on her. Did he see her as Harry's kid sister like Luke did? Or did he agree with Hamid and see her as an attractive woman? Maybe he was glaring at her because she was getting in the way of whatever he needed to discuss with the other two. All Anna knew was she cared too much about this mysterious, surly guy who had hardly said two words to her.

"I have a feeling this girl can hold her own." Hamid gently nudged his shoulder against hers. "Did Luke tell you about the party at our place Friday night?" Anna didn't look over at Ernest this time, but she swore she could feel his eyes boring into the side of her head.

"No, I didn't get the chance. Anna you are welcome to come. You too Sinclaire, even though I know you won't show up." Everyone laughed but Ernest who was still stone-faced.

"I'm shocked, Luke. You are going to let me attend a college party?" Anna teased.

"Hey, if you are with me, you can't be getting into trouble elsewhere. I can keep my eye on you this way."

"Heh. You make it sound so fun." She said dryly. "But since I don't have a lot of friends here yet, I probably won't have other plans. Maybe you'll be lucky enough to be graced by my presence." She might have imagined it but she thought she saw the faintest hint of a smile on Ernest's lips, if only for a second.

"There's the Anna I know and love." Luke clapped her on the shoulder.

"It's great to see you again Luke...and nice to meet both of you." She looked to Hamid and then Ernest.

"I look forward to getting to know you better Anna." Hamid flashed her another toothy grin.

"As her _instructors, _I'm certain we'll all be seeing her frequently. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to get to my next class." Ernest smiled thinly at Anna and went on his way.

Hamid and Luke exchanged looks, and Anna had no clue what to make of things. But as Ernest had so clearly emphasized, they were her instructors and partially responsible for determining her grade in the class. She was there to learn, and she just needed to focus on that.

Tag List: @quacksonlover, @cocomaxley, @tmarie82, @simplyaiden-blog, @lizeboredom, @alexanderkeith, @debramcg1106, @llholloway, @zackzilberg, @confessionsofabrokegirl, @writtenbycandy, @butindeed, @shelivesinthewoods, @nicestrokepam, @leelee10898, @fluffy-marshmallow-heart, @future-mrs-gremlin, @hellospunkiebrewster, @walkerduchess, @pens-girl-87, @sweetfluffyunicorn18, @blackcatkita, @jadedpixiescribbles, @damienazariostan, @yesterday4, @snyggflicka, @endless-vall, @choicesatnight, @hopefulmoonobject, @enmchoices, @theroyalweisme, @the-everlasting-dream, @too-poor-to-buy-keys p>For @zigthetwig, @hhiggs​, @mfackenthal​, @alesana45​, @thatspicegirlssong​, @quartzandarrow​, @flyawayblue56, @choicesyouplayandmore, @catlady0911

[bpdsafespace]

list of all of the things going wrong in my life right now (this is insanely long and dramatic and dumb because it’s almost thanksgiving and i know i should be thankful but maybe it’ll make me feel better to write all of this out):

1. get denied my first choice nursing school even with a 3.55 undergrad GPA and a 3.78 science GPA and now i have to wait another year to apply to that one again and other ones and won’t get into one until 2019 if i even get into one at all meaning i won’t graduate until like 2021 (programs are 1-2 years depending on which one i get into) meaning i’ll be 27 at the earliest until i get to do what i want to do and actually i want to go to grad school and be a nurse practitioner so i’ll be like fuckin 30 and that’s insane to me like how tf am i ever going to have time to date and start a family when school will be consuming my life until then??? so it’s either i give up my dream or deal with the consequences of my dream and it sounds so lose/lose

2. i’m STILL in love with my ex who broke up with me nearly 3 years ago for another prettier more perfect girl and i literally Cannot Get Over It No Matter What i haven’t been attracted to literally anyone in my league since and i haven’t dated anyone since and it SUCKS i miss dating so much but nobody likes me and the very few people who potentially could i only see as friends

3. my best friend is my ex’s ex that he left me for. this sounds bad but it really isn’t well actually it is but she is truly the best friend to me right now and it’s sick i hate it so much but i love her so much it’s so fucking hard.

4. she’s usually away at school 3 hours away but right now she’s home for thanksgiving so i keep creeping on the snapmap to see if she could be with my ex (they’re still friends but she reassured me that they’re not going to date or hook up plus she always talks about other guys yet i’m still paranoid because if i was her why tf not hook up with him?? like you get to have sex and not be attached?? and i feel like he’d def hook up with her) and she’s never with him on the snapmap but this is making me crazy i have no idea what i’m going to do when she’s home for an entire month during winter break

5. i saw his name on her caller ID when i went to a show with her and i can’t stop thinking about it, i don’t talk to either one of them on the phone so what the fuck were they talking about she’d totally tell me if i asked her because she’s never been anything but upfront and honest with me but i’m too scared to ask her because i looked over her shoulder to see her phone and it was 2 days ago now and i literally know it’s not like they were confessing their love for each other maybe she just had a question for him she didn’t want to text i don’t know but it bothers me so fucking much that they’re friends but i can’t be like “you guys aren’t allowed to be friends” like my jealousy is insane i just want them both to like me the best it’s ridiculous so i told her i was fine with them being friends even though i regret that but i kinda don’t regret it because it’s not like she’d stop being friends with him for me and she shouldn’t have to

6. she’s his #1 best friend on snapchat and he hardly uses snapchat and is second to last in my best friends and isn’t even on her best friends so she showed me that he isn’t on her best friends to ease my mind the other day and i see that they have a 3 day streak and i’m upset even though my streak with him is 69 days because when i told her originally that she was his #1 best friend (she’s my #1 best friend so it shows the grimace emoji next to his name) she laughed and was like “i probably send him my mass snaps but he sends me a pic of his dog like once a month so that doesn’t even make sense that i’m his best friend” so why TF do y’all have a 3 day streak now?? obviously he does respond to you now??? am i supposed to yell at her over this?? no because i’m insane HOW DO I STOP BEING SO JEALOUS OVER EVERYTHING PLEASE MAKE IT STOP

7. back to her being my only friend right now, i got in a huge fight with one of my friends i’ve been friends with for like 10 years because he never responds to my snapchats and i’m really sad right so i feel like he isn’t being there for me during this shitty time as much as he should be but my other best friend (my ex’s ex) IS ALWAYS there which sucks because i really don’t want her to be my best friend so i’m trying to be closer to my old best friends but apparently they don’t want to be as close to me as i want to be with them because we only speak when i’m with them. so my friend gets really mad at me because i’m expecting too much apparently and starts yelling at me basically saying that i don’t deserve to be sad and that i’ve gotten everything handed to me in my life (which is ENTIRELY UNTRUE) because my parents paid for my first degree which i understand is crazy privileged but the thing is my parents chose a cheap school for me like i wasn’t allowed to go to an actual good school and they’re literally not even rich they just have been saving since the day i was born because they grew up poor as hell and neither one of them went to college and they wanted better for me and i’m so appreciative of them for it but the thing is now i have to struggle and paid over $10,000 for nursing school pre-reqs out of my own. damn. pocket. because i didn’t fucking get what i wanted to do right the first time and now their money for me is running out and i have to take out loans and i feel SO BAD they wasted their really hard earned money on me it literally makes me wanna die thinking about it. so basically i can’t vent to my friends because i’m being overdramatic and they don’t want to hear it

8. i had a job interview for a seemingly horrible position that is going to help me get into nursing school and is also a change of pace and i really want to get out of my current job because i work with 16 year olds (i’m 23, old AF, i know) and i feel like i’m not growing at all i’m literally at a standstill i’ve been working this job for 7 years so if i don’t get the new one i’ll be devastated but if i do get it i’ll still be devastated cause it’ll be my first full time job plus 1.5 hours transportation times 2 coming back and i may have to work four 10 hour shifts because i have a day of school so i’ll have to be away from home for 13 hours meaning even if i got on the train as early as 7 am (they’re acting like i’d get to pick my schedule), i wouldn’t be home until 8 pm 4 days a week how much does that fucking suck man i wouldn’t even be able to eat dinner with my family

9. i will definitely get drug tested for said job because it’s in a hospital and today is day 1 of not smoking (i smoke almost every day but usually just at night to sleep) and this is literally the worst time for me to not be able to smoke because i’m sad and stressed and just wanna Chill but i literally can’t because i have no idea when i’ll be drug tested, i already interviewed on monday so i was pushing it by smoking yesterday (i applied thursday so i had no idea i’d even get an interview that soon which is why i didn’t stop smoking earlier)

10. it’s fucking november which means winter is coming so my depression is only going to get worse and worse

11. i fucked up my birth control last month so i started bleeding a week before i was supposed to and then when i stopped my pills for my period week i didn’t bleed so i didn’t want to start the new pack right away because it technically wasn’t after my period like i had a gap week so i stopped taking them for 2 weeks and my hormones are CRAAAAZZZYYYY BAAADDD i literally just started a pack right now because i can’t fucking take them anymore so my cycle is going to be massively fucked up this month but i literally couldn’t wait another 2 weeks and now my stomach hurts

12. i have bpd and my psychiatrist copay is $65 and no therapist has ever worked out for me so i’ve wasted a lot of (MY OWN) money on therapists and i’m so over it i can’t afford it so it really sucks to deal with this illness on my own.

[canaryatlaw]

So today was pretty good! I'm tired of course, but that's probably because it's almost 2 in the morning (and will be past 2 by the time I'm finished writing this). But yeah, we were going to a family friend's house for the day. It took some convincing, but I did get out of bed and my sister and I took my mom's car there. They're about 45 minutes from us, way up on a little peninsula off Long Island that's patrolled by police constantly because it's a super affluent area so getting there takes forever because you have to be going 25 or 30 for like, 20 minutes and it's very frustrating lol. And this is only their beach house. I think I've only been to their actual house like, once. But we get there and eat right away, pretty good food, some catered and some homemade. At first I got baded to come sit with the adults but then was able to sneak off to sit with the "kids" (or at least people more my age). They have two kids, a boy who's a year older than me, and a girl who's four years younger than me. The boy is pretty awkward, but he's nice enough, and is only like borderline creepy on occasion so I can deal with that at least. I get along better with the girl, despite the age difference, she's finishing up undergrad right now and heading to law school. Her brother is also now apparently starting law school this year, after flunking out of medical school several times (my dad is best buds with the school's founder so he pulled strings to let him stay there even when he was flunking out on multiple occasions). So if he can't be a doctor apparently he has to be a lawyer, because those are the only acceptable career choices in their family (I don't want to add to stereotypes, but they are a very traditional Asian family, their mother came over from China as a teenager and ended up getting stuck here after a coup found her family in hot water with the government, so she took her fashion drawings to Macy's and they immediately ordered the clothes made and ran a successful fashion company for many years, and the Dad is a very accomplished doctor, so let's just say the expectations are very high. I feel bad for the boy because I highly doubt he actually wants to be a lawyer at this point, medical school to law school isn't the most logical jump, but I hope he's able to find happiness in it anyway. The girl at least seems to genuinely enjoy law, so that's good. After we ate we went out on kayaks for a while, and it was the first time I'd been kayaking since like, 5th grade summer camp lol and while we managed to do just fine, I was still pretty dang wet when I got out, and I was wearing a romper so I just had to stick it out really. We had dessert then, including my peach and blueberry crisp, which I was pleased with the results of. My mom was bugging me about it because she didn't think the nectarines were ripe enough, but I don't think it made a difference. The kids chilled out on the porch for a while and I mainly just took jabs at my brothers, which is one of my favorite things to do in situations where I know they can't fire back with one of their usual super douchey and awful responses. It's just light hearted teasing, I'm never actually very mean to them. After a while my sister wanted to leave (she wasn't feeling very well today unfortunately) so we headed out and stopped at Chick-fil-A on the way home so she could get some food (and I got a watermelon mint lemonade, which somehow messes with my breathing so I need to stop getting it, but it was still good. Got home, and started to gather supplies to dye my hair, only to find out my dye bottle was MIA, much to my frustration as this happened in June too. I could've improvised of course, but it would've taken a lot more effort, so I'm just gonna run to Sally's tomorrow and pick up another one being that they're like $1.50 anyway. So with that idea given up I went back downstairs and sat in the back room to watch this week's night shift, Suits, and Wynonna Earp. I won't get too deep into each of them for time's sake, but the night shift was SO. GOOD. Definitely one of their best episodes (and they've had a lot of good episodes). It was all a tribute to veterans, who play a large part in the show's narrative, and it was featuring veterans as actors and it was directed and such by veterans too, and it was just so poignant and well done that I legit teared up at several points. So I was pleased at that. Suits was kind of meh, I'm irritated it seems impossible for Mike to be honest in any way and also has to be keeping a secret from someone it seems like, so that's annoying. The case stuff with Louis and Harvey was good though, and I'm looking forward to where Mike will take the prison beating case. Wynonna Earp was excellent, as it is most times. I know a lot of the fandom was real pissed at the events of the last episode, but I think this episode did a pretty good job of smoothing things over (though I do still hope Waverly is honest with Nicole about what happened at some point). Nedley was fucking perfect in this episode, I was in stitches while he was being interrogated and would only give the sassiest responses. It was brilliant writing and brilliant acting, so kudos there. I suppose the widows getting the third seal and breaking it was inevitable for the season finale, but I was still kind of frustrated when it happened. But yeah, good episode, and I'm sad we only have two episodes left in the season (although it's at least an improvement from last year's 10 episode season). After that I watched a Supernatural episode, then showered and got ready for bed, then just wasted a lot of time on my phone reading posts and articles about today before writing this post, and now my eyes really want to be shut, so I'm gonna do that now. Goodnight friends. Have a lovely evening.

[mattymattymerduck]

Polaroid Hearts (Pt. 4)

Summary: Ever hear of a love pyramid? It’s when the history major, a fine arts undergrad, and a culinary student all have a crush on you. So in your second year of university, who’s gonna steal your heart first? (A Bucky x Steve x Pietro x Reader story)

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]  [Part 5]

Warnings: A couple small swears, some depreciation 

Word count: 3600 (oops)

A/N: Wow okay I had every intention to have a plethora of Steve moments in this and it just… Didn’t happen. So NEXT TIME, I promise, Stevie action all over the place. Hope you guys like this one!

Bucky had a plan. He had stayed up for the better half of the night trying to think of the perfect way to get close to you. In the end, he was between bribing Natasha into casually letting him into her dorm room and hanging around until you came in and let him sweep you off your feet with something witty and clever and ultimately flirty, or he could get a job at that gelato place you liked so much.

Bucky was no stranger to how Natasha felt about him, so the former was looking pretty unlikely. Part-time job it was, then.

Meanwhile, Steve had to get in the races. If he kept at this pace he’d lose you to Bucky for sure, or more likely someone else before Bucky could learn how to deal with his disobedient tongue. He spent about half an hour trying to word his text to you perfectly, he might as well have been writing an essay back in high school with all the effort he put into it.

He settled for ‘Have any plans today?’  and jumped when you texted back almost immediately with ‘Just class, I end at 11. You?’.

He thought it was a little silly that his heart was already hammering and he only had to read your name in his notifications. Steve was under no illusions that love was ridiculous, much like his best friend had been, so he wasn’t exactly ashamed to admit he was seriously crushing on you. It was more reasonable than Bucky’s approach, who had met you for three minutes before using a word like love.

Bucky always could be described as an all-or-nothing kind of guy, Steve just assumed his admonishment towards any and all gooey chick-flick emotional stuff would preserve him from something like this. Apparently, this was one disaster he couldn’t have predicted.  

‘Same, I start at 5 though :)’ He wasn’t sure if he should cringe at sending you a smiley face or not, it half made him feel childish and half made him feel like it would impress you with it’s friendly air.

Whatever he meant by that.

He gave his heart a momentary respite while taking a breath and running a hand through his hair, and then went back to his phone to ask if you wanted to hang out between the two classes.

'Ooo are you recruiting me for an adventure? Where would you like to go?’ Steve could have hated you for replying so breezily, if it wasn’t one of the reasons he liked you so much.

'No clue, but I can meet you outside your class and decide then? Which building are you in today?’ The photography majors were almost a myth on campus, no one really knew where they worked or what they did in class except for the students themselves. Though, Steve supposed, that could be said for most fine arts majors. They liked to stick to what they knew, so intercurricular mingling only happened by random happenstance at this school. It was a wonder how anyone made friends outside of their main classes, really.

Regardless, you pawned off the location of Mr. Stark’s Super Secret Photography Class and Steve felt like he might have caught the Loch Ness monster for all it was worth. He promised to provide food (like any gentleman looking to impress you should) and you promised to repay him in smiles and, if he was lucky, a couple really terrible jokes.

Steve really hoped he would qualify.

-

For all intensive purposes, your day started out great. You woke up to Steve’s texts, and then to Pietro back in your kitchen, this time with minimal smoke and food to share with everyone. You gratefully accepted your plate and the wide smile Pietro entrusted you with before going to sit across from Wanda, who was giving you a very serious once-over when you picked up your fork.

“Can I help you?” You asked jokingly, holding a square of waffle in front of your mouth like she was about to give you permission to eat it. Pietro looked over his shoulder to see what his sister was doing to elicit your first words of the morning.

“Nope. I was just thinking Pietro doesn’t really know his way around campus, and you only have one class today.” You frowned and put your uneaten waffle back on the plate. You felt like you were about to tell them someone in the family had died - which was definitely an exaggeration, but you never really liked to say no to people. Especially not when you’d have loved to show Pietro around in the first place.

“Oh. Sorry you guys, I actually already have plans after class. Maybe we can go tomorrow? Or Nat can take you?” Pietro was leaning on the counter when you looked over at him, arms crossed and a forgiving smile on his lips. His cheeks were on fire - or at least they felt like they were - but you didn’t notice, and Wanda didn’t point it out.

At the same time Pietro began to say “Ah, oh well. Better luck next time.” with a friendly smile, his sister was leaning forward intimidatingly on the table and asking “You can’t just reschedule?”

As an aspiring teacher, Wanda had a very authoritative persona. She was friendly, of course, but when she wanted something done it got done, because she could easily be mistaken for an army general when her mind was set.

“Well, I guess I could ask Steve…” You replied, conflicted. It was confusing going from Wanda’s determined and unforgiving eyes to Pietro’s semi hopeful, semi worried ones. Clearly he didn’t mean to impede on your day, no matter how badly he wanted to know you better.

Though he also lowkey wanted to know how Wanda knew he liked you so fast. She always went over the moon to try and set him up with people he liked. Needless to say it very rarely worked out, and he had learned it was never a good idea to let her overpower girls into seeing him more often.

“Really, it’s okay. I think Sam wanted to take me anyway.” Pietro diffused and you smiled appreciatively at how Wanda backed into her chair a little more with his voice.

“If you’re still out by 5 I can meet up with you guys!” You add, hoping to appease the borderline disapproving side eye you were getting from Wanda. You were vaguely concerned about her behaviour, usually she was much more easy going and soft willed than this. Maybe Pietro, for whatever reason, brought out the aggression in her. That, or she was just having a rotten day - in which case you made a mental note to bring her back something tasty and chocolatey from your adventure. With any luck, that might help her recover from being a grump for 24 continuous hours.

“You should exchange numbers so you can find each other.” She muttered, grabbing your phone off the table and plugging in her brother’s number before using it to shoot Pietro a text. She placed it back in front of you just as you finished off your breakfast, sliding out of your chair and smiling at both of them as you shrugged your camera bag onto your shoulder.

“Thanks for breakfast Pietro, it tasted great! I’ll text you later to see where you guys are.” You waved farewell and left for your only class of the day, leaving Pietro against the counter feeling better than ever and Wanda in her chair, looking expectantly at her brother.

“Well? No thanks to your sister for getting you her number?” She fell back into her chair and raised an eyebrow, waiting to hear her brother’s applause or get a pat on the back or something.

“You don’t need to meddle for me.” He finally voiced, looking a little stricken when his blue gaze finally left the closed door you had just vacated.

“Meddle? I thought I was doing you a favour.” Wanda frowned, now crossing her arms and practically begging him to challenge her. She always did this with him, and it wasn’t the first time he wished she would just let his business be his own.

“I appreciate it, Wanda, I do. But if she likes me I want her to like me because I made her do it, not because you glared at her until she said she’d go on a date with me.”

“I wasn’t glaring!”

“Yes you were!”

“Even if I was,” She started, glaring up at him in case he pointed out her half-assed acceptance. “you’re too complacent! You’d never have asked for her number on your own, and you’d have spent all day wishing you had asked her to take you around campus. I was just speeding up the process.”

“I know, but you don’t need to. I can do this on my own. Plus, I’m older! I should be finding you girlfriends!”

“We both know I don’t need help finding a girlfriend.” Wanda laughed a little and Pietro smiled back, glad to have spoken his mind and diffused the tension that had started building all at the same time.

“No, I guess not, but that doesn’t mean I won’t do it.” He warned lightly, turning back around and piling dirty dishes into the sink with a grin.

“Whatever, old man. You stay out of my love life and I’ll keep away from yours.”

“Promise?” He turned again to make sure she was being sincere. Wanda stood up and held out her pinky finger like they used to do when they were kids.

“Cross my heart.” She sighed, linking their fingers together with finality. “Unless you really need the help.”

—

“Everyone has their own style, whether it’s shown in a painting, an essay, or a photograph. I don’t mean to psychoanalyze any of you, but a key part of interpreting and appreciating a photo is to get to know the artist behind it. So, that’s what we’re doing today. Everyone give me your cameras.” Mr. Stark’s photography class was exceedingly small, which is why he had time to showcase everyone’s photos rather than just one or two people.

It felt strange without your camera, because you typically went everywhere with it. From the seat beside you, you gathered that Peter felt the same.

“Feels like I’m gonna float away without the extra 12 pounds weighing me down.” He remarked, leaning back into his chair lazily.

“You could always ask Kamala to hold you down, I don’t think she’d mind much.” You teased, knowing full well of the crush Peter had for the girl a couple rows ahead of you. Peter looked scandalized, turning his attention to the back of her head as she laughed with one of her friends.

“I thought we made a pact! We shook hands and everything!” He whispered loudly, clearly willing away the blush that was covering his cheeks.

“Oh Petey, insinuating a relationship isn’t the same as setting you two up. I stand by my last point though, she’s totally into you too. See, she just turned around and smiled at you!” You nudged him with your elbow in time for him to look panic-stricken and catch Kamala’s hair whoosh over her shoulders. Just missing the adoring grin on her lips.

“I think you’re delusional.” He muttered, trying to focus all of his attention on Mr. Stark - who was almost done setting up the first camera on the projector.

“Well I think I’m pretty charming,” You grinned proudly, “but if you say so!”

The first array of pictures were soft. They were mostly sepia tone or monochromatic with whites and browns. You already knew this was Peter, because you two helped each other edit and organize and plan different sets, but it was nice watching a slideshow of them and seeing the other people in your class reflecting on them. Peter was all about the homey aesthetic, this included angled closeups of newspapers overlooking sunny days through a window, steaming coffee mugs on wooden tables, messy beds absorbing filtered sunlight, that kind of thing.

Peter had two portraits in his entire camera roll, one posed of you scrambling up a tree and laughing (a personal favourite of yours, Peter had it printed and framed for your birthday with the sweetest note written on the back.), and another of Kamala, who clearly had no idea he had snapped it. She was in the middle of taking her own photo, so Peter landed a perfect side-profile of her holding up her camera, tongue sticking out in concentration, and the flash of her camera just starting to blind her subject.

The next slideshow was much darker; all black and white, graphic, and depressing. Loki’s camera, as his cocky grin indicated.

“What can we tell from this one?” Mr. Stark asked the class, moving on from the pleasant atmosphere Peter’s pictures had aggregated. A couple students put their hands up and waited anxiously for the teachers’ eyes to fall on them.

“They don’t have a very strong moral code.” Remy voiced from the front row, not even putting his hand up.

“What makes you say that, Mr. LeBeau?”

“They use a greyscale. If they thought in black and white, their pictures would have more contrast, more disparity between the shades. But they don’t have that, so everything’s a middleground to them.” He said boredly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Mr. Stark nodded thoughtfully.

“Or they just really don’t like colour. Maybe they’re trying to accentuate the blandness of life? They find it boring, so they use boring tones to give off the same feeling? What do you think, Ms. Jones?”

“I think he’s a pessimist. Everything he captures is depressing, like he’s trying to point out the flaws of humanity, tragedy and pain and whatever.” Jessica glared across her desk to Loki, who simply smirked with more fervor.

“Fair enough, on to the next camera then!” Mr. Stark made a grand gesture off to Scott, the TA, who swapped memory cards and started displaying a set of very different photos.

You had forgotten you ever took some of the pictures they skimmed through, though they were obviously yours. There was a lot of purposeful sunspots, bright colours, excited faces. Most of the faces were Steve’s, incidentally, who looked adorable 99.9% of the time. The other 0.01 he looked charming and valiant, even, with the new angle and shot you had attempted at one point.

Loki didn’t even wait for the professor to introduce the discussion before he expressed his opinion.

“She’s incredibly naive. She’s either too dumb to realize her subjects have no impact or meaning, or she’s trying to blind herself into thinking taking pictures of the sun is innovative. Though I’m glad she does, because the empty space negates same of the awful artistry I might’ve seen otherwise.”

Honestly, you were too shocked to have any meaningful reaction to his words. After a second or two of silence where you deliberated his point and criticised the photo on the screen in front of everyone, and Peter grinded his teeth together thinking about how he could defend you, Loki’s sly grin returned.

“What’s your problem, man? Just because she doesn’t find everything sad like you, she’s an idiot? One of her photos is worth a hundred of yours, you know why? Because it’s easy to see everything in grey, find the bad in people, but Y/N takes one look at something and sees the good in it! And then she takes a photo like this one,” He points angrily at the projected picture at the front of the room. “and makes everyone see it that way.”

Loki and Peter stood up at the same time, chairs squealing in protest at the intimidating glaring contest they had started, waiting for the other to flinch before they could vault over tables and tackle them.

“Alright alright, settle down kiddies.” Stark wandered over to Loki and pat his shoulder, though with enough force to push him back into his seat. Peter took a long breath before settling back in his chair as well. “We’re in university here, there’s no reason why we can’t have a civilized discussion. That being said, I don’t take kindly to any of my students being called an idiot, Mr. Laufeyson. Especially not one as inspiring and talented as Y/N. So if that’s your opinion, I ask you to keep it to yourself next time.

“I think that’s enough for today, next time let’s try to keep our criticism constructive, okay? And don’t forget your daily pictures! Today’s word is 'affection’.” He showed after the retreating students, few of which actually listening to him as they snatched up their cameras and flooded out the door.

“C'mon, the sooner I get distance between that monochromatic asshole, the better.” Peter says, tugging your arm and rushing to leave Loki’s knife-like grin behind the two of you. You followed numbly, still dazed at the prospect of your hard work being naive and non-impactful.

“You know he just says things to get under your skin, your work is amazing! Even Mr. Stark said so!” He nudged you playfully, trying to cheer you up.

“Yeah. Yeah no, I know.” You nodded, trying to convince yourself and Peter that it didn’t matter, and his words were meaningless. Just because you had opposite styles didn’t mean you were incompetent, right? So what if you saw things with more colour; you weren’t actively avoiding heavier subjects, blinding yourself to darker pieces of the world just because they were dark - right?

“Y/N!” Steve waved with a dopey smile, walking up to where you and Peter had stopped to say goodbye. He came just in time to pause the oncoming cycle of doubt in your head, lucky you.

“Well, see ya! And if you do run into Loki, give him a good slap, okay? It’ll make you feel better.” Peter grinned and gave you a quick hug before running off to his next class.

Steve jogged up with just enough time to nod at him, turning to you with the same smile (that clearly said he was in love with you, but you couldn’t see that) rehearsing in his head all the possible things he could compliment you on. Or at least, what he would compliment you on if you were in a better mood than the one he found you in. His smile dropped to a look of concern, and without thinking his hand grabbed yours and ran his thumb over your knuckles.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You gnawed on your bottom lip, debating on what to say.

“Sorry, I’m just wondering if, maybe, I’m not that great at being a photographer.” Steve looked at you like you had just said the most horrendous thing he had ever heard, like you were plotting the murder of a puppy or Lin-Manuel Miranda or something.

“Why would you ever, ever, think that?” He asked incredulously, yet still kindly. You shrugged, feeling like his stare was heavier than the sun. “I don’t know a lot of photographers, but I am a fine arts major, so I like to think I know something about design and artistic ability. Your pictures are incredible, they’re fun and interesting and ridiculously pretty, and no matter what mood your in when you look at them, they make you smile. They’re basically you printed out on paper, and that’s something every artist dreams of being able to do.” You were more surprised than you really had a right to be, because Steve’s words were so sweet that they really caught you off guard. He knew exactly what you needed to hear to feel better, somehow, and that made you incredibly happy.

He had been too distracted to really notice he had been holding your hand the entire time, so once he was finished admitting how great (and pretty) you were, he slid his hand away before he got too nervous and started sweating. It only took him a second to get distracted again by the bright smile that broke out on your face, and the again when you practically tackled him in a hug.

“Woah, hey there.” He joked, wiggling a little in your tight grip but wrapping his arms around your waist all the same.

“That’s so nice of you Steve, thank you so much.” And he thought his heart might stop altogether when you buried your face in the junction between his neck and shoulder, violently fighting back the shivers it sent racing through his nerves.

“I hope you know that you deserve compliments like that at least twice a day.” He said quietly, making it seem a little like he was still joking, but wholeheartedly believing it nonetheless. The heart-swelling feeling he got from your laugh was doubled by your proximity, or maybe everything just felt more powerful with you this close.

“Then you deserve them twice an hour.” You retorted sincerely, giving him one last squeeze before pulling away. “Also, sorry about that.” You alluded to the hug with a sheepish grin, though you weren’t really sorry at all. Neither was Steve.

“I have no qualms with aggressive hugs.” He laughed, debating on grabbing your hand again but under the pretense of leading you to your picnic spot. “Anyways, ready to go?”

“Yup! Where are we going?” You asked, back to your usual smiley self. He tilted his head in the direction you needed to go, prompting you to start walking.

“Oh, you’ll see.”  

Tagged: @pleasecallmecaptain @waitingfortherightpartner @hijikira @wydari @procrastinatingvirgo @redroomproperty @4theluvofall @iamjury @torpid-imagines @tchallawalla @pickledmoon @officialcaptain-marvel @buchananbarnestrash @redgillan @underrrdog @miaislying @leahneslen21 @aboxinthestars @holydeanmon @penguinsrideatdawn @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @avengerofyourheart @molethemollie @coldhearted @teacupdreams @ichooseyouprocrastination @stephie-senpai @ishipmybed @hotemotionalmess @neverenough24 @beccaanne814-blog @generation-hated @childrenofhumanity @untilatlasfalls @march-mallow @price-devant-la-cage @sebstanshitposts @heismyhunter @capdanrogers @tatortot2701 @shamvictoria11 @tenduelimagines @cry-me-a-fkin-river @forthefandomss @marvelousloves @ayeputita @winterboobaer @girl-next-door-writes 

[gayasianminimalist]

Dear past 3 Deanna’s,

Oh boy, this summer and past fall quarter I’m getting somewhere with everything in my life. Before I left for the summer I made this great elaborate diet and workout plan, and I’ve definitely gotten stronger in the gym. I’ve been able to lift more weight than my previous 3 years, so I’m proud of that!!! Still going strong with being pescatarian, I’m almost a year into it! I don’t think I’ll be stopping anytime soon either. As far as academics I’m doing better than anticipated but I could definitely put in some more work these last 2 quarters. It’s crazy, I’m 2 quarters from finishing my undergrad studies, and I’m going to have to find a job soon! i want to start a job no longer than a few months after I graduate. I’m also highly considering moving to SoCal post-grad, I think I’ve grown to like it better than NorCal. NorCal has its ups for sure and I was raised there, but the weather and amount of things to do in SoCal has definitely increased its appeal to me. LA is where I’m looking at right now, but only time will tell when I’ll move in for sure. Other than that things seem to be going smoothly in terms of my academics. The real excitement has built up around my dating life. It’s definitely going somewhere, a lot better than my 1st 3 years in college. So around halfway through fall quarter, I matched with this girl named Tracy from Tinder. She’s super cute and we started to have a good convo on there. We eventually exchanged numbers and planned for a date. We went on a date 2 weeks later and we got tacos, but the downside is that she’s not going to be in SD long term. She’s moving to Seattle in February, so there’s not really a potential for a relationship. She seems very career driven at the moment. She did a very good job reeling me in with our convo and I ended up just going to her place and cuddling one night. That was a week after our, actually less than a week after our first date. We tried arranging another one but she flaked last minute. I went on another date with another girl named Catherine a week later??? After the cuddle night? Either way I only went on that one date and I found out from my little Aaron that he had a class with her. He doesn’t really like her vibes so I was caught a bit off guard. I was supposed to go on a date with her that morning before my dinner with Tracy, but that got cancelled too. It was probably bad karma that I scheduled two dates on the same day. Well in the end I don’t think it matter too much since nothing will come out of either of those interactions. Now over Thanksgiving, I started talking to a new girl names Janelle. I’m still talking to her currently and hopefully meeting her in the near future. I’ve called her once i think and we’ve facetimed several times already. I’m hoping something more progressive will come from that, but I’ll have to see. Now going off on a bit of a tangent, at the beginning of fall quarter Alison added me to a FB group called Subtle Asian Traits which is a group where all these millenials make Asian memes that everyone can relate to. This eventually lad to the creation of Subtle Asian Dating and eventually Subtle Queer Asian Dating (SAD and SQUAD). Basically on the dating pages people have friends/themselves write a post about them and advertises to the page in hopes that people will DM them and maybe start something good. So basically I posted myself and I started messaging people I found cute and wanted to talk to. I’ve talked to a lot of girls since joining the page but I’m only talking to about 3 of them now. One who I talked to because of EDM, one because her friend messaged me about her, and one who friended me first and I DM’ed. The last person I like talking to most, but she busy so can’t talk all that much currently. Her name is Gray and she’s a gamer. We’ve talked on the phone a couple times now but she’s from Florida. But she came from my hometown and she said she wants to move to LA after graduating. Realistically, I’m not sure anything will happen since she’s far away and still over there for a bit. So I’m interested in Janelle and Gray the most at the moment, and I’ll see how things play out from here. So that’s my dating life, event though there’s not much physical happening. I mean if they were both in SD I probs would’ve seen them already at this point. Janelle is at Davis for undergrad and she’s doing a 5th year there, so I also don’t know for sure if we’ll get somewhere. But we both love EDM, raving, and getting lit. And those are all kinda things I want in my girl. Anyways, yeah things have been going for sure and not sure where my last 2 quarters will take me, but I’m as ready as I can be. I just have to keep everything in some  sort of balance and keep being rational.

-Deanna Wong   12/18/18

Dear Future Deanna, 

I think right now you have improved tenfold from when you started college. Not sure I have much advice to give, well I probably can. Don’t let your love life, if one person becomes serious, overtake you so much that you forget about your friends. Maintaining friendships is very important, and you’ll need them there if anything goes wrong. You need to unplug more, I think compared to most people you aren’t too engaged in social media. But don’t let it take you away from productivity. Really enjoy you last couple quarters in undergrad, you’ll never get this time back once you graduate. As people say, some of their fondest memories come from college. I’ve had a lot of unforgettable moments, but there is never enough of them. Don’t be too hard on yourself when you think something has gone wrong. In most cases things turn out fine when you look at things logically and problem solve. Also it’s alright to be a bit emotional, that’s a part of being human. If you need to cry somewhere down the road, just do it. It doesn’t show you’re weak and it doesn’t stunt your positivity. Stay positive to everyone around you, don’t let pessimists get to you. There need to be that one person that can reassure everyone else that everything will be fine. I think this might be my final advice letter to myself for the rest of undergrad. Spring Break maybe in the Grand Canyon, in which case I don’t need to fly home. My dad can come through SD and then drop me back off there afterwards. In any case, good luck to you and your last 2 quarters at UCSD! You’ll do great and no matter what happens, you have come really far in life and there is a lot of great things to come! Peace out!

-Deanna Wong   12/18/18

Oh my goodness, to be honest I think my whole college experience has been kind of cheesy. I was talking about girls the whole time and honestly I don’t even talk to any of them anymore. Tracy and Gray either message me or I message them every once in a while. But yeah other than that most of the girls I talked to last year are just a blip in my memory now. Sometimes I wanna give up on dating and now more than ever I’m just focused on my career and having chill time in this covid-19 chaos. The gays are also all a mess I don’t know when I’ll find the right person anymore or I could just be forever alone that would be fine. I could myself some new advice for the future and see if I follow through. I followed through with a lot of my own advice back in the day, I guess in hindsight I roughly know where I wanna go in life. And I’m pretty disciplined and well-rounded as a person. I just wanna strive to be a better version of myself everyday. Might not want to do stuff everyday but that’s ok. I love slowing down and taking it easy. And y’all take it easy too, have a great Sunday whoever reads this!

[kqnsc5yt-blog]

Who can give me the name of some good health insurance companies or health insurance assistance programs?

Who can give me the name of some good health insurance companies or health insurance assistance programs?

Please tell me your monthly payment, the company name, your deductible, whether it s an individual or family policy, and if a family policy, how many family members in the plan. This info will help me decide who has the most affordable insurance for my budget. I just got layed off and my $60/mo medical insurance will cost $900/mo to keep it going. Like how the helll am I supposed to pay $900/mo; that s $225/wk! They must be dammm crazy!

BEST ANSWER: Try this site where you can compare free quotes :insurecheap.us

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