#like no one wants to do a exam on a monday morning especially not maths 😞😭

[y2jiz]

yall i got a maths exam to do today wish me luck 😔🙏

[trillian-anders]

3,643 miles

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, smut (& exhibitionism), wee bit of angst

word count: 9.1k

description: established relationship; you’d met in college, both education majors. you really love bucky barnes, and nearing your five year anniversary when he proposes you go on a coast-to-coast road trip on summer vacation. you seem skeptical and unsure, but he assures you it’s worth it. 

New York City, New York – Mile 0

You hadn’t been serious. Not entirely anyway. Months ago, when you said to Bucky, half asleep, “We should go on a road trip, just you and me.” You remember his raspy voice in reply,

“Oh yeah?” His fingers slowly trailing down your bare spine as you slipped off into sleep.

“Yeah.”

It was something you’d almost forgotten all about until he brought it up five months later.

“Hey, do you think we should rent a car or just take mine?” You were chewing on a pen cap, going over the essays you needed to grade by Monday, a glass of wine by your side. He was sitting across from you, laptop open and a notebook full of different scribbles.

“For what?” You ask, taking a sip of your wine.

“Our road trip.” Like you’d forgotten, like it was something you’d already decided on. You shake your head, confused.

“What road trip?” His brow furrows.

“You said you wanted to go on a road trip.”

“When?” He was silent for a moment, staring at you like you had two heads.

“Christmas… when we were going to bed, you said you wanted to go on a road trip.” He explains simply, “Just the two of us.” You shake your head again.

“I was drunk on Christmas.” As if it explains it away, “We don’t really have the funds to take a road trip across the country, how long would that even take?” Typing a few things into your search bar you sigh, “Two to three months?”

“They went like everywhere,” He defends, “We are just going straight across.”

“I don’t know Bucky…” You sat back in your chair, crossing your arms.

“I’ve been doing the math.” He comes to your side of the table squatting down at your side, “We have more than twice of what we would need in savings, we still have enough to put down on a house next summer.” A kiss to your hand and some puppy dog eyes. “And we will be back in time for Steve’s wedding.” A kiss to your wrist, “C’mon baby, we’re still young, and pretty soon we won’t have time to do stuff like this. We never get to do anything this adventurous, come on.” You sigh, he’s right.

For the last five years you two had been together you were both working full-time jobs and in college. When school ended and you both got jobs you stayed in the shitty studio apartment you’d gotten when you first moved in together on the cheap to save every penny you could towards getting a nice house in the suburbs, something you both desperately wanted whenever the subject of marriage and kids rolled about. Which seemed to be more common lately, more so with both of your parents than with each other.

“You’re not getting any younger.” From both your Mom and his. His younger sister was just starting college and nowhere near continuing the Barnes bloodline, so his Mom was especially needy with you as far as wanting grandchildren. Something you and Bucky had briefly talked about but hadn’t made any real serious strides towards having. Your implant was good for another couple years and it wasn’t a real concern.

“Okay,” You agreed, “We should probably take your car to save some money.” A rental for even a month would be way too much. Bucky grinned, kissing you, again and again.

“It’s going to be so fun.” A kiss. “Really is.” Another kiss. His hand slipping to palm at your breast.

“Bucky I have to grade these essays.” He shrugs.

“Grade ‘em tomorrow.” A tweak of your nipple, his mouth sinking down to your neck, a well-practiced weak spot that never failed to make you shiver.

“Bucky.” You whined, fingers coming to grip his shoulders.

“C’mon baby.” You were weak for it. Played right into his hands and he knew it. You were such a sucker.

…

The last day of classes came faster than you thought, the morning after, bright and early you were getting ready to hit the road. Bucky had let you over plan a little if only to satisfy yourself and solidify the fact that you wanted to go on this trip. Almost 4,000 miles. The road ahead of your seemed daunting but he liked to remind you,

“We have all summer; we don’t need to rush.” Which means if you need to stop for the night, then you needed to stop for the night, but the goal was to drive as close to each major destination as you could before looking for a room at a nearby hotel or motel. Whatever seemed more convenient. You’d packed one large suitcase between the two of you and a bag of snacks and drinks for the times where you couldn’t reach a gas station or got uncontrollably snacky and bored.

“Please don’t forget to water our plants.” You begged the blond. Steve seemed a little done with it.

“I won’t forget to water the plants.” He was going to forget, he was beautiful, but endlessly forgetful. You sigh, stepping into his open arms and hugging him. “You guys be careful, if you run into any trouble just give me a call.”

“We’re going to be fine.” Bucky took his friend into a hug after you released him, “We’ll let you know when we get to DC.” The first stop on the trip.

“Have fun! Try not to kill each other!” You roll your eyes, slipping into the passenger seat and plugging your phone in, getting the GPS set up. Bucky slipped into the driver’s seat, grasping your hand and laying a kiss on your palm.

“You ready baby?” You smile excitedly,

“Yeah, I’m ready.” Your little notebook in your lap. A polaroid camera for the aesthetic. A picture developing on your lap that you’d gotten Steve to take of the two of you in front of the car before leaving. The first stretch wasn’t very long. Just about four hours with mild traffic, but you knew with it would be closer to six, but once you were out of the North East the roads would open up at least for a little while.

You hit traffic trying to get out of the city almost immediately which is why you liked Bucky driving. Driving in the city was always stressful and you rarely ever had to do it, you’d never gotten that NYC aggression and seeing as he learned how to drive on these streets you let him take the first leg. You’d switch with him most likely somewhere in New Jersey, probably before you hit Delaware.

“Aren’t you excited?” He asks you. You had to admit, seeing him so giddy and excited about something further enforced the excitement you had been feeling about this trip. You’d never been anywhere further than the North East, once you broke free of DC you’d be in uncharted territory and it did excite you.

“Of course, I am.” You smiled at him, he leaned over the center console to kiss you, a loving sweet kiss interrupted by a loud honk from the man behind you, the light was green.

Washington, DC – Mile 233

“Okay, smile.” Bucky snapped a picture of you standing in front of the National Mall, the Washington Monument tall in the background. The day stayed bright and sunny. With the plan of hitting a museum before dinner, the two of you arrived around lunch time, stopping to grab some food before parking the car and walking around on foot.

You’d snapped a couple pictures of him on your phone while he’d been talking to his Mother during lunch, which you scrolled through while you walked to the next destination. The Smithsonian. The Natural History museum that had currently been doing an exhibit on the late Stan Lee. Something Bucky was excited about.

Copies of old prints. Videos of Stan Lee himself, Jack Kirby, and Steve Ditko. A bunch of first editions in plexiglass containers. His favorite, however, was the character his parents named him after. A life replica of the suit he wears in the comics on display. You took a couple pictures of him with it, sending them onto the group chat you had with him and his family.

His hand was in yours walking through more exhibits, both of you aimlessly walking up to different displays and stopped at the little gift shop for Bucky to look at some exclusive merch they had for the Stan Lee exhibit, including a paperback book about Stan Lee and a large exhibit book with detailed explanations about everything you’d just seen.

“Did you want to drive tonight?” Bucky asked while you were grabbing coffee, “Or do you want to find a room?” You playfully shove him, he playfully shoves you back.

Later your back would find the soft hotel mattress, giggling and a little drunk from the multiple drinks had at dinner. The hum of his lips against yours, fingers plucking on your strings, gentle moans and a hand pressed against the headboard as it smacks against the wall in a steady rhythm.

It was nice. This vacation was nice. And much needed after wrangling teenagers all day.

“I love you so much.” You moan against his mouth, the grind of his hips against yours making your eyes roll in the back of your head. His fingers laced in yours.

You knew that you and Bucky had a good relationship. It’s always been stable and nice and good. You love him and you know he loves you. You’ve never had to question that. Your last relationship, seemed like so long ago now, wasn’t that great. Time never made for each other, a great lack of communication, just being young adults and drinking too much at parties and screaming at each other in the car.

When you met Bucky it was an instant attraction. He was charming, sweet. He’d brought you snacks in the library and helped you study for your history exams. Currently, he was still slowly working towards his Doctorate, wanting to eventually teach at the college you’d both attended. But back then you’d moved in together almost instantly. Not just because the relationship came so easily, but because of finances as well.

Money was a little less tight when someone was sharing the bills with you.

Yeah, you had your arguments. Someone leaves their dishes next to the sink instead of in it. Someone keeps putting off taking out the trash. Someone doesn’t make the bed in the morning. Someone leaves their dirty socks next to the hamper than inside it. But they were small things. Things you could both try to do better. And you have.

Another thing all together was the sex.

You were never someone who said the sex had to be good right away. It takes time to learn someone’s body and really figure out what someone likes and what they don’t like. And while the sex has definitely improved over the years, he knew how to make you cum in less than two minutes and was very proud of that fact, your first sexual experience with each other had his head under your skirt in a dark corner of the school library like you were a Victorian royal canoodling with a servant.

You were red about it for days, thinking about how hard you came on his tongue almost caught by another student looking for records for their thesis. The grin on his face for a week afterward as he enjoyed the hastily decided exhibitionism.

It grew from there.

Bucky loved the fear of getting caught, it was one of his favorite things. You couldn’t even really remember everywhere the two of you had sex of some kind. And when you’d had your second pregnancy scare you decided to get the little implant you still have now.

“I love you so fucking much.” That grind. You loved it and he knew it. He would have your knees hooked over his arms, resting in his elbows, he would be deep, brushing your cervix and grinding his hips against yours, pubic bone grinding on your clit. Your nerve endings on fire. “So fucking wet.” Around him. You could feel his cock throb inside of you and you knew how badly he wanted to move, but he wanted you to beg him for it more.

And you would.

Always.

Your leg was over his thigh at breakfast. Sitting at the bar top of the little diner. “So I think today will just be driving.” Over a piece of toast, “I think it’s like… 10 or 11 hours.” So you’d probably get there just in time to get some sleep. He nods, taking a bite out of his omelet, his thumb brushing your thigh. You were scrolling through your phone. His fingers playing with the hem of your shorts.

“Do you want to drive first?” He asks, “Or do you want me to?”

 Nashville, TN – Mile 890

The road to Nashville cut through the mountains. Music blasting and windows down, you snapped pictures as Bucky traversed the winding roads that were mostly empty aside from shipment trucks and the occasional other car also travelling to some unknown destination. It was gorgeous out there.

“Could you imagine living out here?” You asked him as you spot a cabin mixed in among the trees on the side of the mountain not too far in the distance. He had his sunglasses on, his hair a little grown out and longer than he usually kept it was whipping around his face.

“Absolutely not.” He laughed. The city boy, through and through, you’d really struggled over deciding where you’d like to buy a house when the two of you decided to actually start saving. He wanted to buy an apartment first, but then a debate of what would be more realistic, what would give them enough living space for what they would be paying. There was a period of time where all you looked at were the pretty brownstones you knew you couldn’t afford, but once the two of you reeled it in and really looked you decided to move closer to where Bucky would be working as a professor.

“It’s bad enough you have me moving to New Jersey.” He laughs. But it was all a jest, he wanted to work for Rutgers in New Brunswick. It was where both of you went to college, after all.

“We should go camping.” You take a picture as you cross a bridge, capturing the rippling mountain water.

“You would hate camping.” He shakes his head, “You went to summer camp for a week in fifth grade and told me it was the worst experience of your life.” You sit back in your seat glaring at him.

“Maybe it would be different now that I’m an adult,” You offer, “And the only reason why it was horrible in the first place is because night one the girls said the cabin was haunted and then I just couldn’t sleep for the rest of the week.” Those little bitches. Bucky full belly laughs, the haunting of the girl was also on top of you getting a UTI and seeing a family of bears roam about outside one day so you couldn’t go outside.

“We are not going camping.” You huff but don’t answer because you know he was right; you’d hate camping.

…

“I don’t even remember the last time we had McDonald’s.” You say while dipping three fries into your small dipping cup of sauce.

“After finals.” It wasn’t as good as you remember it being, but you’d also gotten a salad to split as well. Not being able to quite justify eating strictly burgers and fries. Bucky’s memory was a steel trap, unlike his blond best friend. Bucky could easily recall events, almost in striking detail which really sucks when you promised to go do something and wanted to act like you forgot, he could tell you exactly when you said it.

Like drunk on Christmas when you say you should take a road trip, although this wasn’t a half bad idea.

“You got a 20-piece nugget.” He continues, “You ranted for the entire night about how they only gave you three sauces for 20 nuggets.” A history major who had great memory recall. Tests were very easy for him. The bastard. You used to be so jealous.

“Sounds like something I would do.” You laugh.

Nashville was dark when you’d arrived. Downtown thriving with noise and pedestrians as you drove around, tired, while Bucky looked at local hotels. You’d found a decent one for cheap not too far from where you’d been driving and as soon as that hotel room door shut you slipped into bed. Waking slightly when Bucky slipped into bed behind you, pulling you into his chest. The little wet strands of his hair tickling your cheek as he pressed a kiss there, falling back under.

The Parthenon. A life size replica of the one in Greece. A polaroid or two there. Nashville was gorgeous. Aside from the main city were little outlying towns with walkable shopping and a ton of little restaurants and local coffee shops.

You take a sip of your iced coffee, giving Bucky an odd look as he looks at a wall of cowboy boots. “You’re not buying those.” He turns and gives you a playful glare. “Babe, they’re $300, no. You would never wear them.”

“Maybe I’m going to make them a staple of my closet.” He shrugs, “That’s what that girl you watch says right, make something a staple and work your other clothes around it?”

“She doesn’t mean $300 cowboy boots.” You laugh. “You’re never going to wear those.”

“I could though.”

“But you won’t.”

You’d gone and enjoyed the city, hit a couple breweries and had bar food before doing a little tour of the Grand Ole Opry and walked around the Opry Mills Mall before grabbing dinner. The restaurant had line dancing and pretty decent barbecue. But the one drink they had, some sort of peach and whiskey, went down a little too smooth. And poor Bucky who hadn’t drank quite as much, was propping you up on his shoulder as you stumble down the street back to your hotel.

“We should go to an actual bar,” You whine. “I’m not tired.” You stumble, his arm wrapping around your waist a little tighter.

“You are tired,” He laughs, “Your bedtime was two hours ago.” You stick your tongue out at him but try to keep step. You’re sure he slowed down from his usual long strides for you.

“We are on vacation,” Another whine, “We can stay out late.”

“Baby everything is closing,” He tries to reason, “It’s 2 am.” You gaze around the area you’re in. Stragglers, barely anyone around. It was a weeknight after all.

“But I don’t wanna go back to the room.” He gives you a look, stopping in the street and backing you up against the wall, capturing your mouth against his, his hips grinding against yours. “Bucky…” A whine against his mouth.

“You don’t want to go back to the room right?” It was a darker corner, the streetlight not quite reaching. His fingers unbuttoned your shorts, slipping his fingers into your panties to stroke at your clit. A moan muffled into his mouth. You could feel how hard he was on your thigh. Your mind frazzled and swimming in alcohol still, hand gripping his wrist as his fingers prod your opening, thumb continuing to move in tight practiced circles on your clit. Your legs were trembling as his face pulled away from yours. His forehead resting against yours, eyes connected. “You’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you baby?”

Fuck. “Yes.” A whine for a different reason this time, his fingers entering you and immediately stroking your g-spot. Your thighs clamping around his hand as you cum, your loud moan muffled by him capturing your mouth. He worked you through your aftershocks before pulling you tightly into his body, massaging the back of your neck, licking your taste off his fingers.

“C’mon baby,” He kisses you again, “Let’s go to bed.”

New Orleans, LA – Mile 1,422

Your head was pounding, eyes closed with a water bottle pressed to your skull. The music soft in the background while Bucky, bless him, offered to take the first leg of the driving. The eight-hour drive that you were sure would take about nine. He was an angel running into the gas station while you pumped the gas to grab you water and medicine for your headache. While not at all laughing about how you fell flat on your ass into the hotel room and begging him to kiss what was now a bruise on your hip and left ass cheek.

“I can’t believe I drank that much.” You groan, taking a sip of your water.

“I can’t believe you drank that much.” Humor in his voice. The asshole. You napped for the first hour or two, before Bucky began to get antsy. Shifting in his seat, trying to stretch his legs out.

“I can drive.” You mumble, coming out of your nap. “I just need my sunglasses.” His hands tightened on the wheel,

“I could probably go another hour or so.” He says. You roll your eyes,

“Next gas station, we’ll switch.” A sip from your water bottle, “You’re obviously uncomfortable.”  He grumbles under his breath, but does it anyway, stepping from the car somewhere in Alabama. He stretches and you swear you could hear a couple pops in his spine. After grabbing a couple snacks and some coffee from the gas station you were back on your way, feeling a little more alive than you had previously.

The music a little louder, Bucky pulled out the book he’d gotten at the Smithsonian, the windows cracked. You made it back on the road and towards your destination still 7 hours long.

When you’d been planning this road trip Bucky decided to make a bunch of playlists on his phone, each supposedly for a different kind of mood, but they all sounded quite the same to you. All but one which was just labeled ‘XXX’ and had such hits as ‘Pony’ by Ginuwine and ‘Sex with Me’ by Rihanna. Which is strange because you’d never had a sex playlist normally, but suddenly he thinks you need one to play on speaker on his phone next to the bed in hotel rooms.

The one he had playing originally was something mellow, without lyrics. Thoughtful to your raging hangover, but you needed something to focus on. Something you could sing, badly to, but sing to keep yourself from going crazy on a stretch of highway you felt like you’d been on forever. Which you kind of were. It was one straight highway for the entire 533 miles it would take to get you from Nashville to New Orleans. That little pitstop just dipping you off the exit and then putting your right back on.

It was brain numbing honestly and you tried to go as long as possible before switching back. Bucky had fallen asleep sometime an hour or so after you started driving, book folded over his thumb and seat tilted back.

You felt bad. You kept him up so late last night and then he’d let you sleep in while he got ready. Bringing you breakfast and coffee and waking you up slowly. You thought back to him in the hotel room, the soft kisses and whispers. He’d gotten you in the shower with the bribe of giving you a massage after, which he did. You glance at him in the rearview, his arm thrown over his eyes. You could go a little longer.

The first thing the two of you did getting into New Orleans was stop for a drive thru daiquiri before finding what hotel you’d be staying in for the night.

Bags down you sip on the strawberry liquor slush, sinking into the sheets of the hotel room. “Take it easy.” Bucky laughs, stealing it from you and taking a sip. “Don’t want a repeat of last night.” You stick your tongue out at him and he leans over and kisses you, your fingers moving to tug on his belt loop, pulling him over to the bed. Sitting up you continue to kiss him, beginning to palm him through his jeans.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” Mumbled against his lips as you begin to work on his belt. “I really appreciate it.” Looking up at him through your lashes as you free him from his briefs. His breath catches as your cool tongue licks the tip, mouth stained red. Wide and flat against his head. Tapping it on your tongue before circling around the tip and sucking it into your mouth, his fingers twisting in your hair, not pushing but just holding.

You drip spit down on his cock, using your hand to spread it down his length before sucking him back in your mouth, beginning to bob your head to meet your stroking hand. Your other hand moving below to fondle his balls.

You watch his head fall back, a gasp as his fingers tighten in your hair. You feel the spongey tip of him brush the back of your throat, holding yourself there for a moment before pulling off and stroking him root to tip. He bent over meeting your mouth, kiss passionate and lusty. When you part you sink your mouth back onto him, moaning.

His hips gently thrust into your face, you know he’s getting close, his breaths coming out in short pants, the barely there thrust of his hips when he’s craving more friction you oblige to, speeding up your movements and you gently tug on his balls.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum baby.” His head tossing back and a groan as he begins to empty himself into your mouth. You work him through his aftershocks, his hips giving one true thrust right at the end before you swallow. His mouth meeting yours in a satisfied hum.

You went to the French Quarter for dinner. A place with a live jazz band and good food. The atmosphere unmatched. The French Quarter was much less of a drunken mess than Bourbon Street itself, that beast to be tackled a different night. You had a little bit of a pregame with those daquiri slushes before dinner. Buzzed and comfortably riding it throughout. You’d sipped on a rum and coke while listening to the jazz. Just enjoying the night. Tired from driving but satiated from the food. Your hand rubbing your belly you were so full.

“I love you.” His fingers twisting in the stray hairs that fell from your clip. You smile at him, leaning over and pressing a kiss to his lips.

“I love you too.”

You stayed mostly sober while he drank on Bourbon Street. You let him sing horrible karaoke at Cat’s Meow and drug him away from his forced politeness with about six other woman and at least five men. And you let him lean on you and babble while you waited for the uber back to your hotel.

“You’re so fuckin—hiccup—pretty.” Wet on your ear, slobbering and you laugh. “Like so fuckin pretty.” His mouth sloppy on your cheek.

“You’re going to have a hell of a hangover tomorrow.” And it would be your turn to take care of him.

That day had been really nice, a little rainy but you’d gotten beignets and coffee at Café Du Monde and bought a pack of the beignet mix and coffee cup to bring home. You’d seen the Madame LaLaurie house which you were sure you’d be talking to Peggy about later, you’d walked around Jackson Square in the light drizzle and even made your way to walk around Audubon Park. You’d been surprised when Bucky said he wanted to go drink on Bourbon Street seeing as you’d been up for a while, but you obliged and now you were rubbing his back as he told you he was nauseous, his arms wrapped around the toilet bowl.

“I don’t feel good.” He blubbers.

“I know baby.” The tile was cold, hard, and uncomfortable. He gagged. And you sigh, wondering if you should just help him throw up so he would feel better. But he finally vomited. You got him cleaned up, helped him brush his teeth. Fed him some water and helped him out of his clothes. His arms wrapped around your waist as he sat on the edge of the bed. Mumbling words you couldn’t understand as you tried to pull his shirt off. His pants long discarded.

“C’mon baby.” You tug on the shirt stuck in his armpits. His arms weakly lift from your body, letting you lift the shirt off him and laying him under the covers. His fingers twisting in your shirt, “I’ll be right back.” In the bathroom you quickly wipe up the toilet, flushing the extra mess and grabbed the trash can, bringing it out to his side of the bed and resting it on the floor near his head, his arm hanging off the bed and already snoring.

The next day when you were eating breakfast, he drank heartily on a Bloody Mary, trying to get the hair of the dog and feel more alive.

“I can’t believe you let me drink that much.” A groan over fried green tomatoes. You roll your eyes,

“I didn’t… the guys buying you shots when my back was turned did.” It was a laugh really, how Bucky wouldn’t realize someone was flirting with him. So out of touch from being in a relationship, Bucky had been quite the charmer when you first met but had a really hard time noticing when someone else was flirting altogether. A marvel, but it’s true.

“But they were so nice.” He reasoned making you laugh.

“They really were.”

San Antonio, TX – Mile 1,965

Another 543 miles, which 541 were spent on the same road. Honestly it was probably the worst part. Driving in mostly a straight line for hours with long stretches of road in between each stop. But that’s how this part of the country was. It was hotter down here for sure, or maybe just because you were getting deeper into summer.

San Antionio was sweltering, you could feel your shirt sticking to your back as you took in the air conditioning of the hotel lobby you were currently in. The electronic keycard slipped across the counter to Bucky while you waited a step behind before shifting your bag back on and following him to the elevator.

The hotel was a lot like every other hotel, but the only thing you were really worried about now was the shower. Bags dropped and the small toiletry case in hand you slipped into the shower, letting the water run a little cold to cool you off before turning it a little higher to be more comfortable. You can hear Bucky enter the bathroom, the shower curtain being pulled back as he entered behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and dragging you back into his body. Just holding you for a minute.

“Are you okay?” He asked. Pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Yeah, I think I just need some alone time.” You hadn’t talked much during the drive from New Orleans to San Antonio. You were used to getting time apart from each other. Not that you didn’t like spending time with him, but sometimes you just wanted to be alone and right now you were getting that itch. He hums, his arms tightening for a moment more before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

“After the shower, why don’t you take a nap before dinner, hmm?” He reached over grabbing the soap, “I’ll go grab us dinner and bring it back,” beginning to wash, “We can eat in the room tonight, sleep in tomorrow?”

“That would be nice.” You’d finished your shower, slipped into comfortable clothes and flipped through the local channels on the tv, finding something for background noise as Bucky left the room.

You would get like this sometimes.

Bucky was always a little more adventurous. Back in college you probably wouldn’t have done half the things you did if it weren’t for him. He was far more outgoing; he had more friends. He was always dragging you out of first your dorm, and then your shared apartment. He didn’t need the alone time like you did and at first he was a little hurt by it.

Like you didn’t want to spend time with him, and it wasn’t that. You just needed a little bit of time to yourself to just be on your own and decompress a little. But he kind of knew when you needed it now. When you got a little quiet. When you needed a little space. And he found himself enjoying the time that you spend apart. You were sure he was enjoying his little walk,

“I get to kind of quiet myself a little bit.” He told you, “I always feel like I’m going all the time.” There were often times where you’d spend time together in the same room just not talking, a comfortable silence as you watched tv and he graded papers or just laying in bed reading next to each other. You felt like you didn’t deserve him sometimes.

He always catered to your social anxiety and your stress and you try to do the most you can for him, but there’s always that fear of it not being enough. Like maybe you’d wake up one day and he’d decide that it just wasn’t a good fit anymore.

What would you even do then?

A quick nap, only thirty minutes or so. Then you lay there a little bit, listening to the tv ramble on some sitcom you didn’t recognize. You hear Bucky come in, a paper bag of food in his arms, your eyes meet his and he smiles.

You didn’t deserve him.

“I found this food truck,” He sets down the two glass bottles of soda on the little table in the room. “The guy who runs it, his family used to own a restaurant here in San Antonio, but they were shoved out of business by this fucking corporate bastard who wanted the space for fucking condominiums, kept raising his fucking rent until he couldn’t afford it anymore.” A kiss to your lips, “How was your nap?”

“That’s terrible.” Your hand on his back as you sit at the table, him across from you. “It was good, I think I needed that.” He starts laying out the food. Tacos, empanadas, a little container of radish and limes. Extra cilantro. Little sauce cups of spicy salsa. A hot container of grilled peppers and cactus. A small container of extra rice. “This looks really good, thank you.”

He brings your hand up to his lips, kissing it. “Are you okay?” He asked, biting into the empanada sprinkled with queso fresco. You nod, massaging his arm before digging into the tacos.

“Yeah baby, I’m okay.”

You had to see the Alamo, obviously. The big limestone building that was pivotal in the Texas Revolution and was now a history museum. But you were more excited for the river walk. Not far from your hotel a bunch of small restaurants and shops, very touristy and brightly lit, but beautiful on the San Antonio River. Tomorrow would be the Japanese Tea Garden and the Natural Bridge Caverns, but you always liked a relatively easy day right after travelling.

You found yourself really looking at him for the first time in a long time. The little wrinkles by his eyes when he smiles that weren’t there five years ago. How often he licked his lips. How often he caught you looking at him. You were sure you looked lovesick. You found yourself resting your head on his shoulder a lot. Your hand in his as you walked around, the steady motion of his thumb moving across your hand a soothing balm for your growing anxiety.

“What’s going on?” He’d ask you later. “You’ve been really affectionate today.” His hands around your waist in the elevator heading up to the hotel room.

“I just love you, that’s all.” His hands moving to cup your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You meet his kiss, humming against his lips. The elevator doors ding and you walk to your room,

“I just want to sleep.” You hear him sigh behind you as you begin to get changed.

“No, what’s wrong?” Sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at you as you changed into your sleep shorts and tank top. His hand reaching out to yours and dragging you into his lap, your legs on either side of his, you wrapped your arms around his neck. “C’mon baby talk to me.” You felt silly.

“I just… feel like I don’t deserve you.” A laugh in his chest that made you feel dumb.

“I’m sorry baby,” His arms squeezing you a little tighter, “I didn’t mean to laugh.” His fingers tracing your spine. “I feel like I don’t deserve you sometimes, you’re always so patient with me. You pack my lunch for me every day.” He laughs, “You do cute things like bring me coffee when I’m studying or make me those amazing chocolate peanut butter cookies during finals. You know I love you,” He pulled back, your face coming from resting on his shoulder, his hand coming up to cup your jaw, brushing his thumb across your bottom lip. “I think we both like to take care of each other, there’s nothing wrong with that baby, you always take care of me so I try really hard to take care of you.”

“How are you so perfect?” A hum as you meet his lips, soft and sweet.

“How are you so perfect?” He falls back against the bed, dragging you down with him, his hand still rubbing your back. You softly kiss him and close your eyes, finding comfort in laying on his chest. “I think this trip was a really good idea.”

Four Corners Monument – Mile 2,936

“How could you have not checked that we were low on gas?” You were trying to not be angry. You were really trying not to be angry, but when there’s desert on either side of you it’s kind of hard not to be. It was sweltering and no gas also meant no AC.

“I checked our gas at the last stop,” Bucky was in the same boat, hands on his hips, “I think— “he sighs, “Maybe the gas gauge is broken.” You groan in frustration, stepping away from the car and pulling out your phone.

“Can you get a signal?” To call his AAA. A moment or two of him on the phone, before he hung up and turned to you.

“They said about two hours.” You huff, sitting down in the passenger seat, door open and arms crossed. You’d woken up extra early to make this 15-hour drive. You kicked at the hard ground with the sole of your sneaker, trying to calm down while Bucky paced a little.

“I knew we should have rented a car.” You glare at him from your seat.

“If you wanted to rent a car why would you ask me if we should take your car or not?” He didn’t answer. “Don’t blame me for this.” A sigh,

“I’m blaming myself.” A kick to his tire, “I’ve had this car for ten years now, we shouldn’t have taken it.” You worry your bottom lip, checking the time on your phone.

“If you knew we shouldn’t have taken it, why did we?” You didn’t mean for this to turn into an argument. But it somehow turned into a screaming match on the abandoned stretch of road. Not even over important things, things so insignificant like how he’d been taking his shoes off in the car and the stink of that or how you smacked your gum out of boredom. The heat leading the two of you to just explode for no good reason.

Two long strides, that is what was between the two of you. That’s all it took for him to grab you tightly and crush you against his chest, mashing your lips together. You moan into his mouth, fingers tangling in his hair for a harsh tug. Your back hit the side of the car, his fingers fumbling with the button of your shorts, tugging them open and roughly dipping his fingers into the wet heat between your thighs. Two fingers circling your opening before slipping inside and stroking your walls, thumb rapid on your clit.

Your hands fumble with his belt, your legs already shaking as you stroke his length, hot and hard in your hand. He removes his fingers from your now aching sex, “I need you so bad.” Shorts and panties shifted down on your hips, stuck on your knees, he turns you around pressing you to the car, feet kicking your legs open and you could feel his tip prod your entrance.

With one thrust he was home, his hips slapping against yours furiously, your hand drifting own between your thighs to strum on your clit, the pleasure growing. His hand rips yours away, replacing it with his.

“God you’re so fucking good.” Hot on you ear, “So fucking good baby.” That stretch and burn of him, on top of the practiced fingers on your clit brought you over almost immediately. A moan ripping from your lungs, as your clit became overbearingly sensitive. Your hand met his between your legs, trying to stop the steady motions, but he wouldn’t. His other hand left your hip and wrapped around your throat, dragging your back to his chest. “You’re gonna cum for me again.”

You were a mess, whining as two of his fingers slipped into your mouth and pressing down on your tongue, eyes rolling back in your head as you felt yourself gush around his cock. His hips giving a half a dozen sloppy thrusts before he moaned into your neck, emptying himself inside you. You catch your breath against him before your mind unscrambles and you realize that you’ve got cum dripping down your thighs in the middle of the desert.

“I think we needed that.” He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek before wiping his cum off your thighs with a tissue, bundling it up and tossing it into the plastic bag you’d been using for trash and tying it.

You snort, buttoning your shorts, “Always the romantic.” He grins, taking a sip out of a water bottle before passing it to you.

“It’s warm.” He warns. You scrunch your nose, taking a sip of the warm water, sweat dripping down your back.

“How much longer?” He checks his phone and looks at you with a defeated expression.

“An hour.” You had to change your shorts.

…

“This is it?” Just a pavilion, one on each side of the square and the little circular concrete stepping area and a large plaque on the ground. He’s laughing, the stress of everything that just happened ending in this.

“You can be in four states at once.” You shrug.

Grand Canyon Village, AZ – Mile 3,165

It was busy and a little crowded at the Grand Canyon. Which was kind of to be expected. A lot of people taking pictures with their families and couples taking pictures much like you’d been planning to. But the view.

It took your breath away.

You’d seen different environments on this trip that before you’d never been exposed to. The North East was heavily wooded, and everything was tightly packed together. Having lived in New Jersey and then NYC it was very much the same. You marveled at the mountains on your way to Nashville and when you first hit actual desert you pulled the car over to take a real look. The swamps and muggy weather in New Orleans you hadn’t gotten enough time to explore, but the first time seeing Spanish Moss was unreal.

But this was something else entirely.

Bucky caged you in against the metal gate keeping you from getting to the edge, his chest to your back and rested his head on your shoulder. “This is incredible.” He agreed.

You snapped a picture on your polaroid.

And probably about a dozen pictures of the two of you together. A nice couple from Idaho even took a picture on his phone and one on the polaroid and in return you took their picture and gifted them a polaroid of themselves.

You’d left around dinner time. Ordering in and spending the night in the room after shoving your laundry in the hotel laundry room.

“We’re only eight hours away.” You grin. “Eight more hours until we are at the Pacific.” It feels unreal that you’re almost to the opposite end of the country, but whenever you pulled up the map on your phone that’s where it showed you.

Driving had been getting a little more difficult the closer you got to your destination. You were just itching to just get there already and you were not excited for the drive tomorrow. You hadn’t touched the bed yet, still covered in a thin layer of dust, you could feel it between your toes, but the hunger led you towards eating the sandwich and salad combo from the shop the two of you ordered from before getting into the actual shower.

You sigh, fingers tangled in Bucky’s hair. His mouth attached to your clit in a gentle suck. One hand drifting up to play with your nipple, rolling it between his fingers. Your hips grind against his face. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Almost, almost. His hand was fisting his cock the heat of it making your toes curl, cumming on his tongue. A few more quick tugs had him spilling over the tile. The best thing about hotel bathrooms was the water never went cold. Still hot and steamy as he pressed a kiss to your hip before standing. You bury your face in his neck, wrapping your arms around him as he pulled you close.

A soft rock side to side under the stream.

God you fucking love him.

Driving was honestly a hassle. You couldn’t go more than two hours without wanting to switch or stop, which as you grew closer and closer to California you began to see more houses and more people on the road around you.

His hand on your thigh as you finally crossed the California border, feeling a little more positive about finally getting to the end of the road before having to turn around.

Anaheim, CA – Mile 3,643

You read about California traffic, but it was unreal in person. The car hadn’t moved in a good five minutes you’re sure. How is this even possible? The gridlock because you’d taken an extra hour at lunch and gotten to California around rush hour.

“That was a mistake.” You sigh, rubbing your eyes. “We should have just hit a drive thru.” He rubbed your thigh affectionately.

“Doesn’t matter now,” He laughs, “We’ll get there.” You know he’s right, but you still feel a little string of irritation with yourself for not just pushing through a little more. “Are you excited?” He’s grinning, a squeeze on your leg.

“I’m very excited.” And you were. There was so much you wanted to see in California. And you both specifically set aside money to spend a day or two at Disneyland having gone to Disney World with both of your families before. Your Mom being a little obsessed, you were going to have to bring her back something for sure.

You had to get In-N-Out. That was a given. You’d almost stopped for it back in Tuscon but reasoned that you had to wait until California. “This is so good.” Bucky picked up some fries you had to order ‘animal-style’ just because it was an option. And it was so good.

“This was worth it.” Over a mouth of burger. Bucky nods,

“So worth it.”

Your toes dipped into the ocean. A hot and beautiful day. Bucky sat back a couple feet laid out on a blanket. You look back on him, propped up on his elbow, smiling at you. The water was warm, and it was unreal that it wasn’t actually green. At the Jersey shore the water is green from all the algae. But not here. It was actually blue.

His arms wrap around your waist, walking you both deeper into the water. The waves rocking gently over your bodies. The sun hot on your skin.

“This was so worth it.” Your legs around his waist in the water, his finger’s toying with your swimsuit bottoms. “Don’t.” Stern. It makes him laugh.

“Don’t what?” Fingers brushing on your labia through your swim bottoms.

“Bucky…” A harder press directly against your clit. Your eyes looking on the shore. “Stop.” Dragging yourself away from him you made him laugh harder, treading water to get back onto the sand, tossing a playful glare over your shoulder. “Pervert.”

A polaroid of the gate, Disneyland.

“The castle is small.” He says. Main Street similar to Disney World itself, but the castle was noticeably smaller than Cinderella’s castle in Orlando. But it was just as magical and just as expensive. You split a hand dipped corn dog and ate dole whip in the afternoon between rides.

It was a fun, but tiring day and left you both a little sunburnt on your nose and cheeks. You’d slept in the next day, barely able to pull yourself out of bed and your legs were sore from walking about ten miles yesterday. You UberEats breakfast to the room, well… lunch. And watched the weather forecast while trying to decide what to do that day, settling down on going to the Santa Monica pier seeing as the day was already half gone.

Bucky began acting a little strange halfway through your stay in California. He seemed anxious and more fidgety than usual. But every time you asked him about it, he shrugged it off as having too much caffeine or just being really excited to be going to go see the Hollywood sign or stopping by the Cecil Hotel, “Just to see it.”

It wasn’t until the night before you were going to start making your way back did you discover the reason why.

Sitting on the trunk of his car, facing the ocean. The food truck where you’d just had fish tacos and chips with guac off to your right, the only real light as you watched the sun set. He offered to go to the other food truck nearby and grab some ice cream. Homemade stuff boasted by the chalkboard sign on the side of the truck.

With his return and the comfortable quiet that came with watching the sun set over the ocean, you feel him shift to your side, fumbling with something before slipping off the trunk, his back to you.

“Bucky?” You watched him take a deep breath and turn, in his hand was a ring box.

…

Bucky had thought about proposing a million times.

Every time you’d bring him coffee at the library. Every time you’d turn down the bed before the two of you went to sleep. He’d almost proposed Christmas, but you’d wanted to drink so he held off.

When you brought up this road trip he started thinking about it, really. And decided that he would do it sometime during this trip.

He kept trying to figure out when he wanted to do it. That night of amazing sex in DC. The night you were babbling and drunk in Nashville. Maybe when he looked at you in that jazz club, your face lit up by the stage lights in New Orleans. He’d almost proposed in San Antonio when you were sweet and needy.  

He thought about it during your argument heading towards the Four Corners Monument but changed his mind. And at the Grand Canyon there were just too many people around. But here it was just the two of you, your car farther away from the crowd gathered by the food trucks. You’d just watched the sun set over the ocean. He knew it was now, he had to do it.

He wanted to do it.

“I had a whole thing… planned out.” He stumbles over his words, “I’ve thought about this every day for years now, I think. And I just… you’re the love of my life. You’re the only person I want to spend it with, and I know we haven’t talked a lot about getting married and I’m ruining this, but… This trip has really confirmed everything I already knew that I felt and I don’t think there’s any better time to ask…

Will you marry me?”

…

The ring felt strange on your finger but was easily ignored as your fingers tangled in Bucky’s hair. The windows in the car were cracked to keep them from steaming up, a practice well versed by both of your exhibitionist tendencies. The goal was to make it back to the hotel, but this abandoned stretch of highway would do just fine.

On his lap in the backseat you grind your hips against his, aching for it. Fingers fumbling with the buttons on his shorts and feeling his hands squeeze your bare ass while you work them down past his knees. A hover to adjust before sinking down.

Wet but not completely prepared, the stretch and burn a little intense. His mouth moving passionately against yours as one hand slipped between you and starting carefully stroking your clit. Your hands meet the head rest, using it as leverage to raise and lower yourself on his dick. His hips slip down on the seat a little to help you, thrusting up to meet your hips.

“I’m not gonna last,” He moans against your mouth. You start to gush around him, whimpering as you grow closer and closer to release. His hand that had been on your waist coming to tangle in your hair and tug, those practiced fingers of his between your legs finally bringing you over. He was quick to follow. Panting as you remain in his lap, feeling him soften, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you in tightly to his chest. Soft and loving,

“This was a really good idea.”

[wedefyauguryy]

OH MY GOD IM SO SORRY I UNFOLLOWED BY MISTAKE I WAS TRYING TO SEND YOU AN ASK SAYING HII HOW ARE YOU?!

don’t worry about it, that happens to me all the time ajsjsjkd

I’m pretty good! I was just complaining about the weather (it‘s 2 degrees in the morning and 17 in the afternoon, how is anyone supposed to reasonably dress for that weather?? can’t it be cloudy overnight for once please?), but other than that all is well.

Math is super fun right now, I finished the problems for this week on monday and spent yesterday doing a problem from a final exam from a few years ago and today my teacher will be bringing me another! German class is kinda trashy bc we’re doing poetry analysis/interpretation and while I like poetry, I don’t like german poetry and I am horrible at analyzing or interpreting any poetry. But I should be able to make it through somehow. Other classes are mostly in the meh area but certainly passable with a friend and/or a book (though my physics teacher is annoyingly slow at correcting things, we did an experiment two weeks ago and handed in a protocol and I want it back! I want to know if I did better than my rival)

I also started doing parkour! It‘s very fun, even if I’m pretty bad at it. We jump around and twirl around bars/railings and the instructor always looks so elegant (especially on bars! he looks like a ballerina!!) and I look like an ungraceful fish

And I spent a super fun weekend with my friends last weekend!! We watched some batman movies (the newest one in the theatre!) and made burgers and played uno and listened to taylor swift vinyls and talked and took a bunch of photos (I was super cute on that day)

I’m also applying to continue my studies at university next semester bc it was super fun and I am incredibly bored after school without having uni work to do (I have no hobbies actually)

hbu? how have you been?

[bad-at-names-and-faces]

First Session

Oh, look, I wrote a modern AU one-shot... 

ao3 ffn

This is it, Anna thought to herself, go time. She took a deep breath and stepped through the door of the clinic, a bell dinging as she entered.  It looked more like a day spa than the doctor’s office she was expecting.  Her dermatologist had recommended this place for tattoo removal, but nobody else in the waiting room looked like his usual clientele.  

Maybe it was because it was a Monday morning.  

She walked up to the counter and introduced herself.  The cigarette-voiced lady across the counter handed her a clipboard full of paperwork to fill out.  As Anna sat down in an empty corner to fill out the form, she thought it would have been nice if that tattoo parlor by the beach in Florida a few years back had required half this much paperwork before letting her get her ex's name etched in on her lower back.  What had Elsa called it at the time?  Oh, of course, a tramp stamp. Her sister had apologized since then, but the words had burned into Anna’s mind, especially after her engagement with Hans had fallen apart.

Elsa had swallowed her pride and helped her plan that wedding, never mentioning any price tags.  When Anna had started thinking about calling it off, she had gone and checked the venue price.  Then she looked at the cancellation policy.  The wording was dense and legalistic, but Anna came away with the sinking feeling that Elsa wasn’t getting much of her money back. 

“Don’t worry about the cancellations, I’ll take care of that,” Elsa promised her.  

“I’m sorry, you did so much, and you didn’t even like him,” Anna apologized.  

“Money is money, better to have a few lost deposits now...”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“Seriously, good riddance to him!”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Really, have you seen what a divorce costs? The reception hall can keep that deposit.”

“Fine, you’re right.  I do need to take care of one thing, though.”

“What’s that?” 

“Don’t you remember?”

Anna startled to her senses when the receptionist rasped something out.  A large man with a shaggy red beard and tattoos all over his face got up and walked to the desk, and it appeared that he was the one the receptionist was calling over.  Was that a leprechaun on the back of his neck?  

Oh, wait, the leprechaun was holding a basketball; it was a sports logo.  She couldn’t tell what half the other tattoos visible over his clothing were supposed to be. The door to the back opened and the face-tattoo man walked out of the waiting room. 

Anna looked down at her lap and realized she’d only written down her name and her date of birth so far.  Wait, no… she had written down her date of birth in the spot designated “today’s date”... She hoped they weren’t picky about scratching things out on these forms.  

Even with just her name filled out so far, she really didn’t want to start over completely.  She hurried through the basic information, and copied the information from her insurance card.  Would they even cover this? She couldn’t imagine they would, but it didn’t hurt to try.  Then there was a long list of health questions, with “yes” or “no” choices.  Most of them were “no” answers, but then she got going and realized she had checked “no” for something where she should have checked “yes”... more scratching out and rewriting.

She got to the end of the bottom page, and double checked.  Yes, she really had filled out the whole thing.  It felt like she was handing in a final exam walking back over to the receptionist.  A gruff “Thank you” and she was told to wait “just a few more minutes” until her appointment. Anna let out an audible sigh.  Her appointment was officially five minutes ago.

As if on cue, the door opened and a young woman called out her name.  She led Anna back to a small room that looked more like a dentist’s office.  She had actually felt calm until now, though she did her best not to look or sound nervous.

The young woman read the list of risks and limitations, and Anna told her that she understood.  

“Any other questions?” she asked.

“Do I need to change?” Anna asked, “I mean… is there a gown for me or something like that?”

“No, you’ll just need to keep the area with the tattoo visible.”

“Fine,” Anna sighed, beginning to undo her jeans.

“Wait, wait,” the young woman stopped her.  “I’m just an assistant.  The laser tech will be here in a few minutes.”

Anna sheepishly refastened her jeans.  “Thank you.”

The assistant nodded, closing the door behind her as she left.

Anna hardly had time to gather her thoughts before there was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” she said, trying to sound calm and collected.

A tall blond man in a lab coat walked in holding a clipboard, looking through what she could tell was the paperwork she had filled out earlier, full of errors.  

“You’d think you guys would have erasable pens at a place like this,” she said with a half nervous giggle. 

“You could just ask for a new form to fill out,” he replied dryly.

“Aren’t you supposed to introduce yourself?” she asked, “I mean, you have all of my information there, it seems only fair.”

He nodded.  “I’m Kristoff.  I’ll be your laser technician.”  

“Hi, Kristoff,” she said, instinctively sticking her hand out to shake, “I’m Anna, but I’m sure you already knew that.”

He nodded, shaking her hand firmly.  “So, it’s on your lower back?”

“Do I need to show you?”  

“I will need to have access.”

She nodded, turning around and lowering her pants a few inches.  “It’s so embarrassing,” she apologized instinctively. 

“Your form says red, this is pink,” was all he said.

“Huh?”

“Pink will take more sessions to remove.”

“Really?”

“Yes.  So, do you want to get started?”

She was glad Kristoff hadn’t told her to get comfortable before it started.  She had been the sort of child to break an arm and not notice right away if everything was still in place, but the pain was beyond anything, even worse that getting the tattoo had been in the first place.  She managed not to make any noise, but after a while she realized she had managed to bite the inside of her lip a little too forcefully.’

“Done for today,” he said. 

It took her a moment to realize that he was on the other side of the room now, cleaning up.  She put her hand on the spot, which had a small bandage.

“How many more sessions?” 

“Ten sessions total, if you’re lucky,” he smirked.  

“When is the next session?”

“You’ll arrange that out front, but it’s usually four or five weeks.”

Anna did the math in her head as she walked toward the door; this was going to take nearly a year.  “Ugh, this is going to take longer than the relationship.”

He nodded. “We get a lot of business that way.”

“My sister was right, I shouldn’t have gotten a tattoo with the name of someone I just met that day.”

“You got a tattoo with the name of someone you just met that day?” Kristoff asked, looking at her.

“I thought you said that kind of stuff was common,” Anna said, regretting letting herself babble on.

He laughed.  “Don’t worry, by this time next year, Hans will be long gone.”

“Wait, how did you know his name?” she asked before she could stop herself. “No, don’t answer that. I’ll see you in four weeks, Kristoff.”

Anna walked back into the waiting room, standing a respectable distance behind the man with the leprechaun tattoo as he made the arrangements for his next session. The spot on his neck was now covered with a small bandage.\

[haikyu-hoe]

Secret Admirer

Lev Haiba x reader

one shot, fluff

dm if you have any requests, hope you enjoy this valentine’s day special!

———————————————————————

At school you were quite popular, since you were so nice to everyone you met. A couple boys had asked you out (about 3) this semester but you turned them all down. After all you were only a first year and needed to concentrate on your studies. It’s not like you liked any of them anyways.

Today is Monday February 1st, Valentine’s day’s month. Everyone seemed to be in a love mood and eventually that atmosphere got to you too. You kinda envied all the happy couples...

Distracted by all these thoughts you mechanically open your locker, but something pulls you out of your auto-pilot mode.

A letter? How could it have gotten in your locker? You look around but no one seems to be looking at you. Weird. You open it, eager to know who it’s from.

“Dear y/k,

I’ve had my eyes on you for a while now. You’re all i can think about at night, you’re all i can think about in class, you’re all i can think about at practice... From the first time i met you, your [eye colour] eyes charmed me. I can only hope that one day you’ll be mine.”

The letter wasn’t signed. Was it a joke? From one of your friends perhaps? But if it was real... then who? They did mention practice so they have to be on some sports team right?

That was your only clue, so it was no good to try to figure it out. You didn’t even know their gender or their year! It would be like looking for a needle in a haystack.

You sigh on your way to class, now totally distracted. Your friends seem to think something is off so you show them the letter. Now that you think of it, it can’t be one of them since the handwriting doesn’t match.

They make tons of guesses at lunch but who knows if they’re right? You can’t concentrate on your classes this afternoon as you keep reading the letter over and over.

When it’s time to go home, you pass the gyms on your way to the school gate. The volleyball team is practicing tonight and there seem to be a new player, a tall guy with silver hair. You can also spot Kuroo, the team captain and Tamahiko and Yuki, some boys from your class.

You shrug it off. There’s plenty of teams at school, and there was no mention of volleyball in the letter. The sender most likely doesn’t want me to find them...

You get home and do your homework, but your heart and head are not into it. You can’t stop thinking about that new boy. His name was Lev, or something like that, and he’s half russian. He’s so tall, he must be about 6’5! Anyways it’s probably not him, it’s most likely a weird guy or some creepy stalker.

The next morning, you’re shocked to find another letter in your locker. Your heart starts beating faster as you open it. Maybe there’ll be another hint?

“Dear y/k,

It’s me again... I wasn’t going to write again but you’re the only thing on my mind. I wish I had the courage to confess to you, but you probably don’t give a damn about me, so what would be the point? If only I was man enough to tell you these things in person”

So it’s someone that’s not close to you, but still close enough that they could fall in love with you. And you now know for sure it’s a boy, so that narrows it down a bit. At lunch you decide to show your friends, who all become super excited. Your friend Yuri decides to make a list of “suspects”.

“I bet it’s Ryu, he has a locker close to you no? That way he could’ve spied your lock combination!” says Sakura in an enthusiastic tone.

“Ryu? no way! I’m sure it’s either Giyu or Kaya, they sit close to y/k and i’m pretty sure i’ve caught them staring before!” replies Minato.

“Guys it has to be someone on a team of some sort, since he mentioned practice!” says Aiko, cutting them off.

The table falls silent as they all wonder.

“Perhaps Yuki?”, tries Minato. “he’s on the volleyball ball team and y/k has a few classes with him.” , she explains.

“that would make sens... maybe it’s that new russian guy though, Lev! Or maybe Tamahiko? You have classes with these two too!”, replies Yuri. She writes down those 3 names.

“imagine if it was Kuroo, the captain! He’s so hot...”, says Aiko in a dreamy voice.

“there isn’t just the volleyball team though, our school has plenty!”, replies Sakura.

The bell rings shortly after that and you have to concentrate on a math exam all afternoon.

God who could it be? That question keeps you up that night and you only truly wake up upon finding another letter in your locker. You look around again, and spot Yuki close by, at his locker. It might be him after all...

“Hey y/k,

It’s me again. I’m starting to fear you might find out who i am, and yet i kind of want you to... But what if you’re disappointed? You know what? Here, let me give you a clue: I’m a first year too.”

Now that narrows it down a bit more... you now know he’s a first year, a guy and a team of some sort.

When you show your friends they all get super excited, especially Aiko and Yuri.

They start adding people to yesterday’s list, but your head’s not into it. You can’t keep thinking about who it might be... And if you found out, what would you do? Depends on who it is, for sure.

For the rest of the week and the following one too, you find a letter in your locker every day.

They say romantic stuff like

“i wish you could be mine”

“if only i could be the reason for that beautiful smile of yours”

“the things i’d do to feel your lips on mine”

Is it possible to be in a person who’s identity I don’t know? you think to yourself.

Today is Friday February 12th, the last day of school before Valentine’s Day.

Your head is in the clouds as you walk in the school and go to your locker mechanically. But you stop dead in your tracks upon seeing that someone is already at your locker.

Your heart starts racing as you walk up to them. They close the locker to reveal... Lev Haiba??

« Lev? Wha- what are you doing”, you stutter, feeling your face become warm.

His eyes widen and he just stares at you in total shock.

“y/k i’m- i’m so sorry i- i- uh i can explain! it’s uh i’m just checking if...”, he starts explaining really fast. He’s obviously really nervous. It has to be him.

You glance at your locker, and there’s a letter inside. You pick it up and ask the question you’ve been asking yourself for two weeks now.

“So it’s you..?”

“i- no!!! i mean... yes but... i’m- i know you probably don’t feel the same way and i know i’m just a coward-” he starts rambling again.

“Lev.” you cut him off. “I... was actually kinda hoping it was you.”

He blushes until his face is the same shade as his tie. You feel yourself blushing too as you step closer to him. You kiss his cheek.

“How about we do something on the 14th?” you ask gently. He nods frantically. “alright i’ll see you then, here’s my number” you scribble on a piece of paper and give it to him.

You run off to class year hearth still beating fast. When you reveal the identity of your secret admirer, your friends go CRAZY. They squeal and yell and you have to silence them before people start staring.

[timeskip]

It’s Sunday, February 14th. Valentine’s day, and your date with Lev is in 5 minutes. You’re walking towards the cafe you guys are supposed to meet at. You’re wearing casual but pretty clothes, just a bit of makeup and cute sneakers.

You spot him at a table as you enter the cafe. He looks so cute in a hoodie... You greet him awkwardly and sit down in front of him.

The date goes smoothly and you guys actually have loads of common interests. You agree to come to an official Volleyball match soon, on the 27th. It’s about 3 o’clock when Lev suddenly gets more quiet.

“Are you ok?”, you ask, worried.

“Yes it’s just... you’re so amazing and I wonder if... if... if you’d let me take you out again.”

Of course you accept. How could someone say no to this sweet little bean?

You get out of the cafe and Lev offers to walk you home. When you pass by the park, he offers to watch the sunset before going home.

You sit down on a wooden bench and watch as the sun goes down and the sky turns to a pink shade of orange. But Lev isn’t watching the sunset, he’s only watching you.

You turn to him. He blushes as he puts a hand to your face. As he strikes your cheek, you both lean in slowly until you’re only 2 inches apart. You feel his warm breath close to you as you slowly close your eyes. His soft lips come crashing on yours.

When you finally break the kiss, he looks at you like you’re his entire world.

“y/k, i’ve told you before in my letters but i wanted to tell you face to face.” he takes a deep breath. “i love you”

This catches you off guard. You catch your breath before replying “i love you too, Lev”.

You kiss him again, for what seems like an eternity, but it’s still painful to have to part.

“will you... be my girlfriend?”, he says while fidgeting with his hands.

“i will”, you reply softly.

You spend 5 more minutes kissing in the sunset before your boyfriend walks you home. His hand is gigantic compared to yours, it feels so safe. The hug he gives you before saying goodbye is the most loved you’ve ever felt.

~the end~

[mysterioh]

BUSTED - b.b.

PAIRING: PROFESSOR! BUCKY X READER

SUMMARY: Nat asks you about a certain contact by the name of “Bucky Boo Bear 🐻💖💕💗” and gets the surprise of a lifetime.

PART 2 | DRABBLE 1

“Hey Y/N, mind if I use your phone?” Nat asked with your phone already in her hand, signifying the fact that even if you said “no” she’d use it anyway.

“I have to call Clint and mine only has ten percent,” she explained.

“How do you live like that?” you asked incredulously. “I start freaking out when mine’s on seventy.”

Nat shrugs indifferently. “I like living close to the edge. I’m all about the danger zone.”

You roll your eyes while returning to your lab report. “Sure, go ahead.”

“Nat unlocks your phone with ease, already knowing your very simple password. 1-2-3-4-5-1 (the one was placed at the end to throw people off.)

She taps on the phone app to reveal the first two call logs associated with a certain “Bucky Boo Bear 🐻💖💕💗”. The first being a missed call and the second an outgoing one.

The redhead raises a brow at the name, wondering who this “Bucky Boo Bear’ was and why their name had a variety of heart emojis decorating their name. The cogs and gears in Nat’s brains began to turn and she came to the conclusion that this was most definitely a crush. It couldn’t be anything else and certainly not a significant other for two reasons. One being you had terrible social anxiety and dating quite literally scared you. Two was that you never did anything without asking for her opinion first, especially when it came to all things romance.

What bothered her the most about this secret crush was why were they a secret? Most importantly, why were they a secret from her? Considering the fact you had their number saved, you had to have known this person for some time and she knew you inside out. She knew how much you loved to babble to her about everything because you trusted her. So why not this?

Slightly offended by your secretive behavior, Nat decided to confront you right away about this incognito crush.

“Y/N,” she called and you looked up at her with your glasses drooping at the tip of your nose. “Who’s Bucky Boo Bear?” she asked with a smirk.

Your face instantly lit up and muttered something under your breath before answering her. “Oh, that’s just nobody,” you said, “Nobody at all.”

Nat gave a look denoting that she wasn’t buying your horrible lie. “Really?” she asked with a raised brow and a wicked grin. “Because whoever seems to have this many hearts next to their name must be someone important.”

Your face grew even brighter. “That was by accident,” you replied quickly.

“What’d you do? Fall asleep on your keyboard?”

“No, I just-” you fumbled while speaking, “How about we just drop it, huh?”

“No can do, sis,” Nat said, pointing at you. “I want answers. Who is this Bucky Boo Bear?”

“Stop saying that,” you hissed, hoping no one was eavesdropping on your conversation.

“Well if that’s their name then I don’t see why I can’t.”

“That’s not their real name.”

“Oh? Then what is?”

“None of your business,” you snapped back.

Nat sat back, a bit startled by your boldness, but not enough to back away. “Well as your best friend I think I should know about your crush. I’m entitled to know these types of things.”

“They are not a crush!”

“Then what are they?”

“I can’t tell you that,” you murmured.

“And why not?”

“Because I can’t.”

“I won’t tell anyone, don’t worry.”

“Liar, the first thing you’ll do is go tell Clint,” you remarked.

“I won’t,” she assured, “I promise, not this time. Cross my heart and hope to die,” she swore, crossing her heart with her finger.

“I can’t tell you, Nat,” you repeated with a sigh.

“Is it a boy or a girl?” she asked, ignoring your statement.

“I’m not answering that question,” you replied with a huff.

“Fine, I guess I’ll just call this Bucky Boo Bear and ask them who the hell they are,” Nat said, clicking the call icon on the screen.

“No!” you exclaimed, reaching over to grab the phone from her.

“Uh-uh,” she pulled the phone away, “don’t make me put this on speaker.”

You glare at her, but she ignores it. “I hate you,” you said.

“Love you too, sweetheart,” she blows you a kiss.

The call goes through and Nat was giddy on the inside.

“Hey, babe,” a deep yet tender voice came through making Nat drop her jaw at the sound of it.

She knew this voice. The dreadful voice she was forced to listen to every Monday and Wednesday at ten in the morning. The one and only Professor Barnes from MATH 401 - Calculus II.

Nat’s heart froze as did her expression while she stared at you completely dumbfounded. You looked at everything but her. Your face brighter than her hair while biting the skin of your bottom lip, a bad habit of yours when you were nervous or embarrassed.

She couldn’t believe it. You. Y/N. Her best friend was talking with their Calculus professor and only God knew what else you were doing with him. From the casual tone of his voice and the fact that he just referred to you as “babe” made Nat come to the conclusion that this was more than just a meager crush.

You. Y/N. The one who scolded her to do her homework instead of binge-watching The Office. The same best friend who refused to go to every college party in the fear of getting busted was having some sort of intimate relationship with their professor. Their very hot, hilarious, and evil professor. The man that was very good at making mornings horrible with incredibly hard exams and pop quizzes that she was barely passing.

“Babe?” Bucky called, bringing Nat back down to earth. “You there?”

“Y/N,” Nat said blankly.

Bucky quickly realized what was happening and muttered a curse.

“Y/N, look me in the eye and tell me this isn’t who I think it is,” Nat said, “Please tell me you’re not dating that demon.”

You simply shrugged with an embarrassed smile. “You know I’m a horrible liar.”

A/N: Part 2 coming soon…

[bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture]

Chapter three! I already skimmed through it and just. Holy fuck I’m falling in love with this series all over again, and this is just the opening arc, how the hell is this so good??? I’m genuinely just in awe and fuck is it making it hard to decide where to have a cut-off point for this chapter. I suppose we’ll just have to see what fate decides.

(Also, the temptation to just paste in all of the last three pages of the chapter is so incredibly strong, you don’t understand.)

[No. 3 - Entrance Exam]

We start off with some exposition: UA’s hero course is designed to give students all they need to go pro, and is the toughest and most popular hero course in the country, with only a 1 in 300 acceptance rate. Discounting the four slots that are recommendation students, that’s 36 slots a year, which is about…

Yeah. That’s a lotta applications, and that’s just for the hero course! 

Several alumni are mentioned: All Might, who declined the people’s choice award; Endeavor, who’s stopped more crimes than anyone else in recorded history; and Best Jeanist, who’s won the Best Jeanist award eight years running. (One of these things is not like the other~ One of these things just doesn’t belong~) The exposition suggests that graduating from UA is basically a requirement for becoming a great hero - something which we’ll learn soon enough isn’t quite true.

But yeah, Endeavor with the record for crime handling, even above All Might. Quite the impressive hero, though that face…

Not precisely reassuring.

So yeah, Izuku here mentions the date of the exam - February 26th. I figure that this has to be a Sunday, for the simple fact that Japan has a slightly different school schedule than us. Most notably: Japanese schools (some of them, anyways) have 5.5 day school weeks. Yes, that means the first half of Saturday can still be a school day. 

While I couldn’t confirm for sure whether this is more common among the higher end schools, I feel like a school like UA, with its ‘Plus Ultra’ motto, would definitely be a school to have a half-day (or even a full day) on Saturdays, and since they also have to accomodate for middle schools that have Saturday morning classes, I figure that it would make the most sense for UA to schedule this exam on a Sunday. 

The benefits of this, as we’ve already seen, is that we can then narrow down the timeline for the rest of the series, just based on that single, confirmed date. We know from the last chapter that the Sludge Villain had to happen on a Thursday or Friday of the first week of school (April 14th/15th), with the first training session two days later (the 16th/17th). But what this also gives us is when Izuku’s first year of UA starts, AND the possible years it could start on. 

Since we see the glowing baby is in a modern hospital, we can assume that’s correlated to about our times. Give it a few generations, and we can guess that we’re in the 2200s or 2300s for the current era. Based on that assumption, we get the following years that have February 26th on a Sunday:

23rd century potential years: 2204, 2209, 2215, 2226, 2232, 2237, 2243, 2254, 2260, 2265, 2271, 2282, 2288, 2293, 2299

24th century potential years: 2310, 2316, 2321, 2327, 2338, 2344, 2349, 2355, 2366, 2372, 2377, 2383, 2394, 2400

As a side note, when I got into the series, my brain weirdly latched onto the idea that this had to all be happening in the year 2317. I don’t know why I decided on that number, but that’s what I rolled with, and hilariously I could be RIGHT about the year the current manga arc is happening in, provided Izuku’s first year is in 2316. Sometimes you just know, ya know? I know at least one other friend made these calcs independently of me and chose to run with 2237, which is totally valid! Probably makes more sense to be in the 2200s, but there’s room depending on how much time one thinks has passed.

As for when Izuku’s high school school year starts, we know that Japanese schools start on the second Monday of April. Since we don’t know if this is a leap year or not, we’ll end up with two dates, but that’s fine!

Feb 26 (Sun) -> Feb 27 (Mon) -> March (6/5, 13/12, 20/19, 27/26) -> April (3/2, 10/9)

Therefore, Izuku’s first day of classes (not counting the orientation, which I’ve seen a few other timelines assume is on the Sunday before classes start) is April 10th (or the 9th if a leap year)! I know this is all in the future from this chapter, but still, I wanted to share this at some point and figured now was as good a time as always.

Math!

Sorry, I’ve just wanted to share this math I did for a while now, I put a lot of work into it and I am very proud of it. Let’s get back to the chapter.

So Izuku lives a 40 minute train ride away from UA, and has made it just in time for the exam. Apparently, this is only the practical portion? Or well, that’s the part that gets focused on in this chapter, with no mention of the paper exam. I would imagine they’d be the same day, though? But I suppose one can do whatever they like with it.

He’s standing there looking at the school, thinking about how he didn’t have a chance to test the power, while the other students head in-

Excuse me, Toga?? I know that hairstyle is just a bit off, but… ???

...right, anyways. Izuku is wondering whether the hair really did anything (also, it was apparently sour, which, ew.) Katsuki comes up behind him and tells him to move aside.

Truly a flattering image. Izuku panics a bit and greets him, but Katsuki just walks by without another word or gesture, leaving Izuku confused as he watches him head on into the building. The narrative notes that since the villain incident, Katsuki hadn’t bothered Izuku, while the unnamed characters in the background apparently recognize Katsuki from the ‘sludge’ incident (well, not shocked how the fandom held onto that name). 

Izuku notes that he’s gotta stop flinching instinctively, and then tries to hype himself up, noting that it’s not like before, and think about the past ten months while taking a wobbly step forward- and then tripping over himself.

I’m sorry Izuku just has so many fantastic faces in this chapter I am crying trying to limit myself to just a few. But yeah, that little derp as he realizes what’s happening is adorable, especially while Ochako gently sets him back on his feet. She mentions that it’s her quirk, and apologizes for using it, but that it’s a bad omen to trip and fall. (I wonder if that gets played with again during later parts of the series… will have to check to see.)

While Izuku freaks out over talking to a girl, Ochako notes that the exam is nerve-wracking, and then heads off while wishing both of them luck as Izuku stares after. 

This fucking kid. I love him so much. His flustered excitement gets him some weird looks from the others still outside.

We transition to a new character (Present Mic) who immediately shows off his performative side by calling for a ‘hey!’ which… is met with silence from the crowd. He doesn’t let this throw him off, instead letting them know that he’ll present the guidelines for the practical, followed with a ‘YEAH!’ that gets met with an even heavier silence.

Izuku and Katsuki are seated next to each other, with Izuku descending right into excited muttering over Present Mic and how he listens to his radio show every week. Also with the assumption that all the UA teachers are pro heroes, which I mean, true, but still. Katsuki tells Izuku to shut up.

Present Mic explains the test: ten minute long ‘mock cityscape maneuvers’, with the applicants split among seven arenas, labelled ‘A’ through ‘G’. With more than 10k applicants total, that’s about…

Yeah, more than 1500 per arena. Fucking hell, no wonder the robots deplete so quickly in only a few minutes. Also of interest:

“Bring along whatever you want.” So technically, if Izuku were able to procure the tech and training to handle the robots, there would be nothing keeping him from getting into UA quirkless… though I imagine any kid who gets in mostly on tech probably gets side-eyed… though if said kid made their OWN tech, they might also get an offer from the Support department.

(AU where Mei accidentally took the heroics exam and got a shitload of points, but she ended up taking the offer for Support instead despite setting the record for most points in said exam. Katsuki forever wants to fight her. Izuku and her are good friends.)

Also, another thing I love is how Katsuki just told Izuku to shut up a moment ago, and then:

He’s the one to initiate conversation on the details of the test, basically agreeing on the reasoning behind dividing up the students between arenas. Katsuki is annoyed at not being able to crush Izuku, which has Izuku awkwardly silent. 

Also mini-Mic.

Poor, poor Mic. He just wants audience participation. Anyways, he continues on to explain the points system, with the help of cute little Mario-themed silhouettes. There are three kinds of faux villains, with different points awarded for defeating each based on their difficulty levels. Also, attacking other examinees is prohibited!

A student (cough Tenya) raises their hand to ask a question, going on to note that the handout sheet appears to have four varieties of villain, and that such a blatant error (if it is one) reflects poorly on Japan’s top academy. He then spins around and points at Izuku, calling him out for his muttering and how distracting he’s been, and that ‘if this is some sort of game to you, then please leave immediately!’ 

Is that… Mineta seated behind Izuku? I can’t find another panel that disproves that theory, so. Whelp. If you ever for some reason want to have Izuku accidentally deal with the grape early, he’s right there. 

Anyways, Present Mic brings the convo back to the initial question/comment, noting that the fourth villain is worth zero points, and is more of an obstacle. He then brings up Super Mario Brothers, the old retro game, and compares the Zero Pointer to a thwomp. There’s one per site, serving as a gimmick that’ll rampage in close quarters. Tenya thanks Mic and apologizes for the interruption. 

And so we get our final words from Present Mic:

??? either he's referencing the original guy (which I think would be a misquote because I doubt OG Nap ever noted anything like that) or some French hero or the like who took on the name.

Discord offered this to me while putting together the post:

So there you have it. Tentatively confirmed.

Those EYES man, dude’s got the Rinnegan going on.

Honestly, I have to end on this panel just because of that last line from Present Mic. Like, look me in the eyes and tell me this isn’t the exact point to end on. 

The discord’s takeaway from this:

[iliketowrite1996]

picture by Vashti Harrison

@chaneajoyyy and  @shaekingitup  quarantine writing challenge!

 Cold Coffee

TRIGGER WARNINGS AND THEMES- guarded heart, Avengers

:Infinity War spoilers, Avengers:Endgame spoilers , mentions of death, emotional, fihgting, years fo denial, anger, strong emotional content, regret.

The coffee maker slowly lets the last drop of dark, bitter coffee fall into your pristine, green cup before you shut off the coffee maker in the student center lounge.

   It’s well after midnight, and ideally , you should have been back in your bed and fast asleep in your bed by now.

   Yet, here you are, straining your eyes under fluorescent light to study for your final the next day.  The only fuel that you’ve ingested since at least 9:30 in the evening has been one energy bar, and countless cups of coffee as you fight your battle against your worst enemy in your college days- Final. Exams.

The jet black words on the off-white page seem to be mocking you, laughing at your attempts to remember which formulas to use for what, your pencil lead and erase slowly whittling away as you write, erase, write again.

   ‘’Okay,’’ you speak more to yourself than the empty commons area, ‘’Let’s see if you got this one correct.’’

   A glance into the answers at the back of the book let you know that… no. You did not get this correct. You miss, miscalculate, misunderstood. Something.

   ‘’I’m going to be here all night,’’ you groan, placing your head in your hands, somehow willing yourself to keep studying when you want to give up.

   ‘’Um… if you are going to be here all night, I hope you don’t mind some company.’’

   You look up from the distress-inducing objects that are your math book and notes to see a young man standing there, laptop and books tucked neatly under his arms.

   He’s someone that you recognize from your Monday and Wednesday, nine a.m. lessons. He’s standing before you dressed in a plain t-shirt, green plaid pajama pants, and… are those bunny slippers.

   ‘’Ignore the slippers. They were the cheapest things at the campus store,’’ he speaks by way of explanation, ‘’Um, anyway. Do you mind if I join you?’’

   ‘’Um… no. No, not at all,’’ you motion to the seat across from you, watching as he pulls the red, plastic chair across the floor to sit down, ‘’At least now, someone is here to wake me up if I fall asleep.’’

   ‘’Not if I fall asleep first,’’ he smirks, a crooked grin illuminated by the lights of the enar empty student center, ‘’I know that we have met in class. Well, we have seen each other in class. But we have not met before. I am T’Challa.’’

   T’Challa- his name is as beautiful, simple yet complex. He speaks with a confidence that could only be birthed from within, not willing to reconstruct it in order to make it make sense to those who don’t care to attempt the three-syllable moniker.

   ‘’T’Challa,’’ you speak, his name somehow leaving a sweet taste on your tongue as you say it, ‘’It is nice to meet you, T’Challa.’’

   ‘’It is nice to meet you, too. I would like to stop calling you, ‘That girl that knows all the answers’. May I have a name?’’

   Much like you, T’Challa lets your name roll on his tongue as he speaks it, enjoying the way it falls out of his mouth, ‘’How beautiful. Well, we have our final exam in just a few hours. I suggest we study.’’

   So the two of you sit there, pouring over your notes and discussing the formulas and how best to remember them.

   ‘’I think that I am going to make a cup of coffee, ‘’T’Challa stands, stretching golden brown arms up to the sky as he stands, the plastic chair yet again scraping against the cold tile floors, ‘’Would you like a cup?’’

   You look to where you’ve somehow finished your entire cup of coffee in the last forty-five minutes, nodding as you do.

   T’Challa obliges by taking your coffee cup, rinsing it in the sink before turning the black coffee maker back on.

   You watch him as he works, keeping an eye on what he does. He pours the cream, scoops the sugar in, and turns off the coffee maker within a matter of five minutes.

   ‘’If anyone questions why the coffee maker is broken,’’ he begins, gliding back over to you with his coffee and yours in his hands, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips, ‘’I’ll say it had to do with you.’’

   ‘’You’d throw me under the bus,’’ you raise an eyebrow taking the cup from him and thanking him, ‘’Nice.’’

   ‘’This is my first cup of coffee. From the discarded pods, I’d say that this is at least your third.’’

   ‘’Observant, aren’t we,’’ you chuckle a bit, blowing into your coffee to cool it a bit, ‘’Alright. Let’s get back to this.’’

   The two of you spend the rest of the night studying. You take practice tests, review the formulas, go back and forth until you’re on your fifth cup of coffee.  until you look up to see that the clock reads 3 in the morning.

   ‘’I’d better get back to my dorm and hope that this caffeine wears off enough for me to sleep,’’ you take your glasses off, rubbing at your tired, red eyes before replacing them to get a clear look at T’Challa.

   ‘’I agree,’’ he speaks, picking up his third cup of coffee, ‘’As I continue to drink my coffee.’’

   You laugh despite yourself, the sound filling the room, ‘’I guess we’ll just go back to our dorms and lay down. I’ll see you in class, T’Challa.’’

   ‘’I will see you then, ‘’T’Challa agrees, standing again, ‘’Perhaps… perhaps tomorrow, after three, you would like to join me for a cup of coffee.’’

   You hesitate at this. You have one final at nine in the morning, another at 12, and one more at 6. You really should use that time to study. It’s the end of your freshman year, and you're hoping that you won’t have to take any of these classes over the summer. You should stay focused, and leave the coffee date for another day, or decide against it all together…

   ‘’It is alright if you do not want to join me,’’ T’Challa quickly amends, rubbing the back of his neck, looking away, ‘’I know how stressful freshman year can be for people. It is fine. You probably are seeing someone any way.’’

   ‘’No, no. I’m single. It’s just that…’’

   You came to college with the goal of focusing on the endline- the endgame. Graduation. You, being number five of your grandmother’s six grandchildren, and the first to graduate from college. It has been drilled into your head for years- books now, boys later.

   You should say no. It is the practical thing, afterall. He’s a sophomore, you’re a freshman. You are still trying to figure things out, taking extra classes over the summer to hopefully graduate a year early and go into the job force as soon as you can.

   It’d be pointless to focus on him… because he has the power to side track you, as you’ve seen in your roommates.

   For all of these reasons and more, your answer to his proposal

   Knowing all of this… you still find yourself meeting this charming, handsome, upperclassman. Over coffee.

   ‘’So, you’re a freshman,’’ T’Challa begins the next day, sitting across from you, ‘’What are you studying?’’

   ‘’I’m a Business major,’’ you reveal, ‘’What about you?’’

   ‘’I am a Communications major,’’ T’Challa informs you as he opens up a packet of sugar, letting the small granules of snow white sugar fall into his coffee before stirring them in, ‘’Where are you from?’

   ‘’Originally, Atlanta, Georgia. My family moved here when I was ten. Where are you from,’’ you question, stirring your cream into your own beverage, nothing the way the coffee and the cream mix together to make your drink sweet.

   ‘’Wakanda,’’ T’Challa declares, ‘’Born and raised until I came here for university.’’

   ‘’Wakanda… wow. I can’t imagine being that far from my parents. I could go home if I wanted- they’re only two hours away. Even that feels like years at times. What made you decide to come here for school?’’

   ‘’A multitude of factors,’’ T’Challa leans back in his chair a bit, ‘’I Have a cousin that grew up in Compton, and I have spent some time here before. He got into NYU the year before I did, so I do have someone here. I also just… let;s just say that my family is very well known in Wakanda. I could not make a single move without anyone bringing up my family and their accomplishments. Here, I can just be… T’Challa. Not ‘ T’Challa Udaku, son of T’Chaka and Ramonda’.’’

   You can sense something leaving him when he speaks these words- whether it’s because he is revealing something that he has never told anyone before, or because he regrets doing do, or because he regrets holding it in that long.    

   ‘’What made you decide to go for Business,’’ T’Challa questions as you replace the lid on your coffee cup, taking a sip and savoring the taste as you do.

   ‘’I want to own my own business. I want to empower young girls, but especially younBlack girls,’’ you give away, running a hand over your cropped hair, ‘’I want them to have the confidence that I did not seem to have growing up.’’

   ‘’I sense that there is a story here,’’ T’Challa guesses, finally picking up his coffee and taking a sip, ‘’I would like to hear it, i you would care to share it.’’

   It’s complex in its simoletey, his response. Just like his invitation to meet him here today, T’Challa’s proposal has a light layer of something else covering it like a opaque film- you can sort of see what it is, but not easily.

   ‘’And why is that?’’

   ‘’I have been watching you,’’ he speaks confidently, ‘’In class. You are quiet, but you are confident. You do not need to shout to be heard. I would love to get to know you better. If you are open to that, of course. No pressure.’’

   There it is again- his effortlessness. He’s so sure of what he wants that he can ask without hesitation. It’s a smoothness, a suaveness that you think he must have been both born with ad had bred into him.

   ‘’What made you notice me,’’ you ask, cupping your cup with both hands, ‘’There are over a hundred people in that lecture hall.’’

   ‘’I know,’’ he begins, staring at the faux-wood countertop of the table that you are settled in, ‘’Like I said before… you are secure, yet you do not feel the need to boast about it. It is something that I like about you. I do apologize if I am coming off strong.’’

    Onyx black eyes stare into yours, something hidden beneath them that you can’t quite determine. There’s honesty mixed with a secret, vulnerability mixed with a strongness that you have not seen in anyone else.

   ‘’And you just zeroed in on me,’’ you run a finger along the edge of your coffee cup’s top, observing the man in front of you.

   You’re pretty good at reading people. You can tell what they are doing, thinking, and if they can be trusted. T’Challa is like a book- he can be read, but you can only go so far before you have to stop, unable to unlock the next chapter until he is ready.

   There is something there though… a story, much like your own. One that you want to read.

   Which is how you find yourself accepting another coffee date with T’Challa the next week, the Thursday before you’re set to go back to your respective homes.

   This is a strange predicament, because you find that you enjoy his company. And, without the threat of a final exam lingering over your head, you see how the clock spins, one hour merging into another, then another, then another.

   Pretty soon, you’ve been talking for four hours, about everything and some things and nothing all at once.

   ‘’So what made you want to cut your hair, ‘’ T’Challa questions after you alert him that the decision had been made, almost on a whim, yet somehow with much consideration, nearly two months ago.

   ‘’I have always wanted to go back to my natural hair,’’ you run a hand over your cropped curls, ‘’In a way, it felt like a new beginning. Starting over. Connecting with my roots.’’

   ‘’How so,’’ T’Challa leans back again, sipping his coffee as the sunlight enters through the window, illuminating his features and bathing him in its warmth.

   He’s beautiful.

   ‘’I just… It was nice. For once,I was not worried about what people thought about my hair, what they thought it should look like. It was invigorating, I guess you would say, to do my thing and have it be done. I have spent so many years just doing what is expected of me, so it was nice to do something for myself.’’

   T’Challa is looking out of the window now, a familiar look of knowingness mixed with an odd sort of desperation etched into his features, ‘’Believe me, I know how that is. I… My family expects a lot of me. It is my duty to carry on our duty to Wakanda. Somehow, though, I wonder if I had the choice, would I choose something else.’’

   ‘’And what would that be,’’ you question, breaking off a bit of your croissant to eat it.

   T’Challa seems to realize what he’s said, almost as if the worlds startled him by making themselves known, outloud, public for someone else to hear.

   ‘’I think that, that is a conversation for later,’’ T’Challa murmurs, looking to his watch, ‘’We should be getting back to the dorms.’’

   As mucha s you would like to press the subject a bit further, you decide against it. You fear that if you try to turn this page to read deeper into his story, the book will snap shut, and someone will get hurt. So you keep your mouth shut about his story, instead agreeing with him, taking your treat and coffees and riding the shuttle bus with him back to the dorms.

   ‘’I know that I will be going back home for the summer, as will you, However, I do want to keep in touch with you.’’

   ‘’You do,’’ you genuinely question, ‘’How come?’’

   ‘’I love your blindness, ‘’ he chuckles, handing you a slip of paper, ‘’Let me just say, we both have a story. I am interested in getting to know yours, and you seem to be interested in getting to know mine. So why not keep in touch over the summer?’’

   Again, you’re a bit taken aback by the calmness to his approach, how he knows who he is, and is willing to put himself on the line to you, someone who is secure in who they are yet is afraid of who others portray themselves to be.

   Because there is no guarantee that the pretty and fascinating cover matches the words on the pages inside.

   Still, you take his number, something deep inside of you beginning to be sparked at this moment.

   ‘’Sure, T’Challa. We will keep in touch.’’

   And keep in touch you do.

   It is strange, you feel, getting to know someone else’s story while allowing your own self to bread so deeply, so completely, so intimately.

   The summer births new notions- T'Challa is sweet, he is smart, he is kind. He mentions volunteer work as though it is his responsibility and not from the kindest of his heart. He offers to come see you when he gets back to New York in August. He shares stories of his younger sister, Shuri, who is his sunshine, his mother Ramonda, who is his comforter, his baba T’Chaka, who is his inspiration.

   You reveal more of yourself, too, slowly allowing T’Challa to take a look in between the lines, to come face to face with who you really are underneath pretty words and flowery images.

   A summer turns into the fall, and your story now has T’Challa written into it, his name so conveniently fitting on some pages of your life story.    

   His hand fits in yours just the same way as you stroll around campus, taking in the changing leaves and the cold chill of the air, cups of coffee in our hands.

   When winter fades into spring, he reveals the truth that he is a prince and that he must go back to Wakanda at the end of the next school year, and he’d understand if you did not want this with him, because it is a lot, even for him.

   His face in your hands, a kiss reassured him that, yes, you’re ready to see where this goes. Because you’re seeing how this story unfolds, and he’s a part of it now- him, his quiet confidence, and cups of coffee.

   A year later,a s he graduates, you meet his family, a milestone added as he begins to bring up marriage over a cup of coffee the next day as you catch breakfast before his flight back to Wakanda.

A cup of coffee serves as his welcoming gift to you the very next year when you step off of that plane and into his arms, ready to begin your life as queen-in-training.

Coffee motivates you for the next five years, the intense sweetness luring you out of bed and into daily lessons, work, and training to prepare you for the role that you will take as soon as King T’Chaka steps down, and T’Challa steps into the throne.

Coffee, as blacka s the light and as dark as T’Challa’s mood lately, serves as the first conversation starter after the untimely death of King T’Chaka. T’Challa, who has called himself off as of late, smiles a bit, shoulders relaxing a bit as he places the document that he’s been looking at to the side.

‘’Thank you, my love,’’ he whispers, taking a sip for the first time since he officially became the king and the Black Panther, ‘’I am tired.’’

‘’You need to rest, T’Challa,’’ you take his face in your hands, looking into his eyes, ‘’You can not go on this way.’’

‘’There is so much to do, entle. Meetings and festivals, surveillance duties… The job of  a king is never easy.’’

‘’That may be, but you’ll run yourself ragged. Then, you won’t be any good for Wakanda because you'll be too tired. Please, T’Challa. Drink your coffee, take your break. We can’t worry about the things that we can't chance… we’ll let our story be written, and we’ll smile again.’’

Those words…

Those very words are what stick inside T’Challa’s head six months later. He watches as you peer into the bottom of your coffee mug before looking up at him, mouth agape as you read the question written in the bottom of said cup, ‘’Will you marry me?’’

Your kiss, your yes, tastes both of coffee beans and happiness, salty with the tears that fall from your eyes as you scream yes.

Your wedding day is no different from any other day that you have spent with T’Challa- you're watching the day, the beginning of a new chapter, unfold before your very eyes, coffee nestled safely in your hands as your stylist does your hair for your big day.

‘See you at the altar,’’ T’Challa had written in that delightfully handwriting that delightfully spidery handwriting that you've come to associate with your soon to be husband.

Coffee, it seems, shows up in every area of your life with T'Challa. In each new story, it makes its appearance. In each chapter, its presence is made known by its significance to a situation. It’s interwoven through your everyday lives, as well as in your special events.

Two years after you're married, coffee is left on the table as the two of you discuss the arrival of the Avengers, and a place for you and Ramonda to go.

‘’I will not leave you,’’ you place a hand on his arm , ‘’Never.’’

‘’Darling,’’ T’Challa sighs, placing a hand over yours, ‘’I am afraid that is the best way. Then, you will be safe.’’

‘’You do not have to do this, T’Challa. Steve and the others can fight somewhere else, can they not?’’

‘’They need our help. And I am going to help them.’’

For everything that he is, T’Challa keeps his promises. He is a man of his word, and he knows who he is. It is the thing that you both simultaneously love and detest about him, because it means that there is no arguing ith him in his situation,

But he compromises- you can stay in the palace, just please, stay there.

‘’You can have a cup of coffee waiting for me,’’ T’Challa presses a kiss to your forehead and then to your lips before leaving his forehead against yours, staring in your eyes, ‘’I will be back before you know it.’’

And you know that he is being optimistic- T’Challa’s eyes shine with hope and he wants it to believe it as much as he wants you to believe it. So he says it with such earnestness that you can not help to do what he says as soon as he leaves you, to fight a battle that someone became both of yours.

So you make the coffee. You make it and you sit at the kitchen table, willing yourself to ignore the way your stomach is twisting, turning, and tossing.

You sit there for a while, and the coffee goes untouched. But T’Challa will be back. He has to be back.

He’s coming back.

A day. Two. Three.

And the coffee goes untouched, left cold, because you can’t quite bring yourself to move it, somehow still believing that T’Challa will come back, will keep his promise, will let your story finish writing itself

It’s sad, funny in a horrific way. Years of building a story were put to an end from one snap, and T’Challa is…

He’s…

He never came back, he never got that cup of coffee like he said.

And you’re screaming at Steve Rogers, five years later, wbcause how dare he and his band of so-called heroes come your way, telling you they need your help? HOw dare they walk into the life you've been trying to build, putting your business degree to use opening a center for those affected by Thano’s snap.

How dare they come and try to interrupt your new story when all they did was burn the other one to crisp, leaving nothing but a simple pile of literal ashes of your love. All that is left are your memories, your wedding ring, the fragments of a cup broken against the wall, that once held coffee that was never drunk five years ago, but now holds years of tears, frustration, anger, hurt, each emotion  shining off of each shattered piece, glistening beneath the light of the room.

‘’On behalf of the queen, I will have to ask you to leave,’’ Ayo speaks, standing in front of you.

‘’We understand,’’ the one you recognise as Natasha speaks, pain behind her eyes mirroring your own, ‘’We are so sorry. And we will make this right.’’

You want to scoff, roll your eyes, and ask her how dare she.

But… but there’s something else there. Something you haven’t seen since you last looked at T'Challa's eyes: hope.

Hope is what made you give T’Challa a chance, what made you accept a coffee date, what led to years of bliss with that man, what led him to fight to keep you and others safe.

   It is the same thing that has you walking into the Avengers’ meeting, all eyes on you.

   ‘’I want to help. I saw something in you that i have not seen in others in a long time: Hope. I’d like to experience that again.’’

   They are all sharing looks with each other, and Natahas is the first one that speaks up, ‘’We are going to bi=ring them back. We’re going to get T’Challa back.’’

For the first time in years, you find yourself believing. There’s a hope there. You’re going to get your husband back, the love of your life returning to your life.

‘’You’re not alone. I am here to help,’’ you respond, a small smile forming, ‘’And I am going to help.’’

‘’If you don’t mind my asking,’’ Tony Stark begins, eyes on you, ‘’What changed your mind?’’

‘’Thanos may have written my story. But if he can do that, I can, too. I’m getting T’Challa back. And the others, too.’’

So this is where you find yourself now- suiting up with one of T’Challa’s old suits, ready to defend and avenge him.

‘’What are you going to do when you see him again,’’ Natasha questions, eyes on you as she suits up herself.

‘’I am going to have coffee with the love of my life.’’

[omgviolette12]

After Hours - Chapter 13

Previous Chapter

Summary: After sex, comes the bliss... right?

Chapters: 13/?

Words: 2800+

Warnings: None

Tags:  @milkymaidme @dangertoozmanykids101@alexakeyloveloki @little-moonbeam-666  @marvel-ous-fics@clovermariear@lynnesm@bitchyikes@moon-child-of-a-poet, @allthecraftandthings@bubblegumspitt @shockwavee @blondekel77 @nerd–nirvana @valdemarismynonbinarylove@nightrose64 @pastelhexmaniac @iistormii

If you’d like to be added, let me know. I’ve also posted this on AO3

A/N:  Sorry for the delay, still in the midst of final projects. Motivation to complete work/writing has been a bit slow, and I’ve been trying to think up new plot points. I’ve been stuck, lol. Anyway, enjoy!

----------------------------

Evelyn should’ve expected this, but she had no idea that she would be this sore.

 After the shower, they both became somewhat insatiable. It was as though Loki couldn’t get enough of her, and she of him. The taboo of their relationship spurred on their lust, the need to be connected to each other in every way possible great. So like he had promised, he fucked her into the late hours of the night.

  While she was grateful that her first time was far from terrible...she made a mental note to learn her limits. She thought the idea of getting fucked silly by the man she pined for would be a dream come true - but the effects on her body afterwards was kind of a bitch.

 Evelyn hopped and limped all the way to Loki’s car when they left his house early in the morning, wincing with every step. She attributed the amount of pain she was in due to the fact that she was simply not used to sex, and her professor’s size was considerable. 

 Perhaps the more they did it, the less pain there would be overtime?

Just the thought of a ‘next time’ in Loki’s bed was enough to set off another wave of butterflies inside her stomach. Whatever pain she was in right now, it was worth it.

 Loki, however, had long noticed Evelyn’s plight - in fact, he even had the gall to tease her about it, offering to carry her up the steps to her door like a princess once they reached her apartment.

 He sounded pretty serious about it too, so Evelyn couldn't help but blush even though she knew he was just messing around. It was going to be a challenge getting used to his playful side…

 Evelyn promised him that she'd stop by his office later on in the day, to resume her duties as his TA. Since she wouldn’t be able to attend the Monday lecture to help out this time around for obvious reasons, the least she could do was grade some exams. 

 She dreaded grading, especially since it was math( another reason why she skipped meetings in the beginning…) but now that the dynamic between her and Loki has changed considerably, she was actually looking forward to being productive in his presence.

  They parted with a kiss, and Evelyn made her way to her apartment door slowly. Now, she just had to try to walk inside like there wasn't a stick up her ass.

To Evelyn’s surprise and dismay, Candice was waiting for her on the couch, a cup of hot cocoa in hand as she watched her hop through the front door.

 Evelyn was secretly banking on the fact that she had left for work already, since Candice mentioned offhandedly that she took up more shifts at her hospital.

  But alas, the shit-eating grin that was plastered on Candice’s face meant that she must’ve called in sick to witness Evelyn’s limp of shame, first thing.

 “Well! I’ll be damned,”

 Evelyn stubbornly ignored her in embarrassment as she limped past the couch to head to her room, but Candice set down her mug to follow her, giggling like a fool, “He busted that cherry so hard he got you hoppin’ like a bunny! Sheesh...”

 "Not now, Candice…" Her face felt hot, desperately wishing her sister had some sort of filter.

 "Did y'all use a rubber? Did he hurt you? Because if he hurt you Eve -"

 Candice was going to badger her until all was answered, so Evelyn relented with a grimace, hoping she would leave her alone after she was satisfied,

 “ No! He didn’t hurt me...and yes, we used protection. Each time.”

 “Each ti- each time?! How many times did y’all fu- ”

 Evelyn cut her off before she could finish, “I’ll answer all the juicy deets later, okay!? I didn’t have time to shower before we left, and I wanna do that now. Please?”

 Candice realized she was being a bit overbearing, backing off a bit. Evelyn was extremely fun to tease and make fun off, but she knew her sister had limits,

  “Sorry, sorry. My baby sister never seemed the type to be interested in sex or anything before...so to do it with a professor of all people for your first time! And a kinky one! Don’t blame me for being interested and concerned...”

 Evelyn ignored the kinky comment, limping inside her room as she replied, “I mean, is the professor thing really that big a deal? I’m technically just a former student of his...”

 “Not really, you already know how my hoe phase was. Fucked a few teachers in my college days. But you have to be careful with these older men Eve, since you’re new to this sort of thing. Don't get attached. Especially if his dick game’s good, he will manipulate the hell outta you,”

 "...Speaking from experience?"

 "Yep. Found out this guy was a whole married man and I still went back to fuck. Good dick messes with your morals sis,"

 Evelyn had a hard time taking her words seriously since Candice lacked morals in the first place, but pretended to agree so she could leave her be,

"I'll make sure to be careful, okay? Can I shower now?"

 "Yeah yeah, we'll talk more later. Remember what I said, hmm?"

And with that, Candice left her room with a skip to her step.

 Evelyn didn’t bother processing her sister’s warning, going straight to the shower to relieve her sore muscles.

--------------------------------

 By the time Evelyn made her way unto the campus, the pain had lessened considerably. She still had to walk a bit carefully, but she didn’t feel as raw as before. While she showered, she also noticed bruises alongside her hip and waist - she even had to use more than a bit of makeup to cover the new ones Loki had ‘affectionately’ placed in plain sight on her neck.

 She was especially hard to bruise, so she was baffled at the amount she currently had.

 Evelyn thought that she should at least feel miffed about it, but somehow the thought of being marked as his, in any way, sent a thrill through her being. Even when he was rough at some points...

  I had sex just once and I’m already a deviant…hehe.

 Evelyn was quite busy daydreaming about the naughty events from last night, that she didn’t see the tall figure standing in her way as she headed towards Loki’s office.

 ‘Oof!’

 As expected, she collided straight into the person’s side, yelping in the process.

 “Oh shit - I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention…”

 She looked up apologetically at the woman in front of her - lithe and pale, with narrowed blue eyes that accentuated her intimidating presence. 

 Perhaps because she also had dark hair and sharp facial features, she saw a vague resemblance to Loki.

 “Obviously, you weren’t,” the woman replied curtly, before giving a tight smile,

“But, I’ll forgive you if you were to lend some assistance.”

 Her tone carried a sort of cold arrogance, as Evelyn shrunk underneath her stare. She even had Loki’s accent…

 “Uh...of course! How can I help…?” Although she was in a bit of a rush to get to where she needed to be, she did not want the woman in front of her to be any more pissed off than she already seemed to look.

 She showed Evelyn a map of the campus that was in her hands, pointing at the building she wanted to head to, “This map is much too complicated for me, and I’m trying to look for this building. I need to find someone, and this is where his office is apparently.”

 “Oh, I’m actually heading there!” Evelyn was glad that the woman pointed towards the science department - the campus was fairly large, and she barely knew half of the map. “If you don’t mind me asking, who’re you trying to find? I can show you to them directly…”

 She didn’t have to go the extra mile, merely walk with her to the building. But Evelyn had always been a people pleaser.

 “Ah, I’m looking for my brother. Are you a student of his, perhaps? I do know that he teaches here…Loki Odinson. Or Laufeyson, whatever he wants to go by nowadays.”

 “Brother? You’re Loki’s sister?” Evelyn asked in a surprised tone, voice elevated. He did mention he two had siblings during their date, but he never went into detail about anything.

 The woman looked at her oddly, a small chuckle leaving her lips, “Well, you certainly sound quite familiar with him.”

 Evelyn realized her mistake, hastily rushing to fix it. Loki was fine with Candice knowing everything, but she still wasn’t sure about his side of the family. 

 “Oh, about that...I usually just call all the professors by their names, haha…”

 “My brother really dislikes being referred to in an informal manner, so I find the idea of him allowing that unlikely.”

 “.....”

 Evelyn was momentarily speechless, akin to a deer in headlights. 

 “Uhm, you see, I -“

 “No need to explain,” the woman stepped closer, a bit too close for comfort as she scrutinized Evelyn’s face, “You’re his exact type, you know. Short, timid, pretty. He’s probably quite taken with you...” 

 As she looked her up and down, a spark of realization lit her eyes..

 “Miss...you’re stepping out of line here.”

She was assuming way too much, for just a minor slip up. And who spoke like this to someone they just met? 

 “Oh, It's just harmless teasing,” she stepped back, her smile starting to look a lot more natural. 

 She pulled out her hand for a handshake, “ Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Hela. Hela Odinson. And you?”

 Evelyn gave a momentary look of reluctance before accepting the handshake, “Uhm, Evelyn Monroe. Nice to meet you, I guess?”

 Hela’s smile became broader, “Let’s walk and talk, hmm?”

 Evelyn was very uncomfortable, but started to walk regardless.

 As they made their way towards Loki’s office, Hela, surprisingly, insisted on making small talk. Evelyn pegged her for the cold and silent type like her brother, but she was entirely the opposite. She asked general questions about what Evelyn did, her age, etc. But unfortunately, she also kept asking suggestive questions, hoping for another slip up on her end.

 “I haven’t spoken to my brother in a while, so I’m clueless as to how he’s doing. Does he treat you well, Evelyn?”

 Hela began adopting a familiar and warmer tone, softening Evelyn’s first impression. It succeeded in lulling her into a sense of minor comfort, “Oh, he treats me very well. I mean, he’s pretty nice to all of his students, most times...” 

 “Hm, that’s surprising. His personality is treacherous, so I expected the opposite.”

 Evelyn looked at her quizzically. For his sister, she sure spoke like she disliked him to a large degree.

 “Since I like you, I’ll give you a bit of advice,”

Hela turned to look at her then, meeting her eyes,

“Don’t get too attached to a man like Loki, especially if he thinks you’re a temporary plaything. He gets... annoyed, quite easily. You weren't the only one he happened to fancy so much in the past...so I'd know.”

….?!??

“Excuse me, but what -“ Evelyn started, but then the dark, pissed off voice of her professor sounded from behind them.

 “Hela,”

 His face was pulled into a tight scowl, trained directly at his sister, “ What nonsense are you spewing?”

 Loki appeared behind them suddenly out of thin air, startling the wits out of Evelyn. Before she could ponder the possibility that he had magical powers, she realized they just passed the lecture hall where his class was, on the way to his office.

 “I took time out of my busy schedule to see you, dear brother...one would think you’d sound a bit more affectionate. Hasn't it been a year since we last spoke?”

 “Slither back to whatever hell you came from, woman.”

 “Well, I suppose that’s close enough.”

 Evelyn looked back and forth between the two, the tension thick and uncomfortable. They were in the middle of the hallway and students still wandered about, so she decided to make an exit. She wanted no part in whatever mystery family drama that was unfolding...and she needed time to ponder over Hela’s words.

  I’ll ask just him about this later...

 “So...um. I’m gonna go ahead to the office, okay? Grade those papers...yippee…”

 She added awkwardly, slowly backing away.

 Loki looked at her then. She hoped his face would soften a bit, but it didn’t. 

“I’ll be there shortly. This won’t take long.”

His answers were short and clipped, so she knew he was pissed. 

She didn’t do anything wrong to her knowledge, so she blamed his mood all on his sister. 

 Before Evelyn left, Hela addressed her one last time.

“It was lovely meeting you, sweetheart. I’m sure we’ll see each other again…”

 “Oh. Uhm, yeah. Nice meeting you too…”

Evelyn didn’t waste anymore time, leaving the pair once she saw Loki’s worsening expression.

 ---------------------

Hela’s words from before repeated inside her head, filling her with a sense of paranoia. But, she had no reason to be paranoid, right? Loki said they were exclusive, after all. He said he wanted her to be his woman. No, she was his woman. And he made sure of that last night.

 Evelyn stubbornly pushed her anxieties aside into the far crevice of her mind, reassuring herself with his words. Although Hela was his sister, she and Loki clearly weren’t on good terms. She could’ve said that in order to sabotage their suspected relationship.

  God, this is giving me a damn headache...

 She settled in Loki's office, taking the stack of exams from his desk and got comfortable on the couch. She hoped grading and correcting complicated equations would fry her brain enough to stop the fretting, as she waited for him to come.

 Loki appeared after about fifteen minutes, and Evelyn bolted upright once she heard him enter.

 “Oh, Loki! I went ahead and started…”

She paused mid sentence when she saw his expression.

“...Grading…”

 Why did it feel like she was in some sort of trouble? The heck?

His face didn’t change much from when he spoke to Hela, so it made her nervous.

 Evelyn just opted to stay quiet for now. She’d ask about Hela later once he looked a little less pissed off. She was his girlfriend now, but she still felt his authoritative presence especially when they were on campus.

 Well, she was going to stay quiet, until his deep voice resounded inside the room.

 “I'm curious about something, Evelyn.”

  Uh oh. Why's he using that voice?

 "How did that...woman, know that we were involved with each other?"

 "Uh...woman? I mean, I thought she said she was your sister…?"

 "That isn't the answer to my question."

 Inwardly, Evelyn felt whiplashed. Everything was so dandy this morning and last night...so how did things take such a strange turn so quickly?

 "Look, when she told me she was your sister, I said your first name on impulse. That's literally it! She assumed stuff based on that one thing…"

 Evelyn put the papers on her lap to the side, feeling frustrated, "And…it really isn't that big a deal, right? You said that people outside the school could know. You were fine with Candice knowing, so why not -"

 He cut her off before she could finish,

"Darling, let me say this in a way that you can comprehend," 

  In...in a way that I can comprehendddd? Did he just call me stupid eloquently?

 Evelyn was stunned into silence as Loki spoke, and he moved to stand above her as she sat rigidly on the couch. "Such a simple mistake, regardless of who it was, is monumental. Your words weren't what gave you away, Evelyn. But your body language. You're entirely too expressive for your own good,"

 He sighed a disappointed sigh, moving away to pinch the bridge of his nose, "At any rate, I can live with Hela knowing...but for future reference, avoid her. At all costs."

 Loki looked at her then, eyes stern, "Do you understand what I'm saying? Or should I elaborate further?"

 Evelyn was honestly a bit speechless. She felt extremely put off and mildly hurt… that he spoke to her like she was a child, rather than his lover.

She really hated herself right now. Was she actually about to cry? He would seriously think she was childish, if this was how she was going to react.

 Tears wouldn’t do her any favors, especially once he was in this kind of mood anyway.

Why am I so fucking sensitive?!

She sighed shakily, swallowing the knot in her throat as she replied, "Yeah...I got it."

 "Good, then." 

 He moved casually to sit behind his desk, attempting to soften his tone with his next words, "You can work for maybe half an hour, then I'd like to treat you to dinner. Seeing that woman left an unpleasant taste… but spending more time with you should remedy that."

 She didn't reply, and only stared at the floor.

 "... Evelyn?"

 When she glanced up, he saw that her large, hazel eyes were shimmering with unshed tears.

”I’m... I’m going to use the restroom, okay? I’ll be back,”

 She got up quickly. And before he could properly react, she promptly went to exit the room.

--------------

A/N:  Your thoughts bring me joy, I greatly appreciate each and every one! Please let me know what you thought :)

[etraytin]

Quarantine, Day 36

Well, the bar exam results did not post at 12:01am on April 17 I didn't really expect that they would, but I had to check anyway. Like three times. Oh well. It's not like it's MY ENTIRE LIFE'S WORK or anything. Calm, we are so very calm around here. Very zen. We have put on the Tinykittens livestream on the television to watch one of their foster mamas get ready to have kittens, and we are intensely, rigidly, singlemindedly relaxed. 

Today was sewing day! I signed up with the local food bank to help with a drive-through distribution on Monday because they needed volunteers, but I don't really have a proper mask. I've got an elastic-backed bandana headband that does well enough for running around and moving cats, but for something like this, I want to be masked up. And why should I not make my own masks? I'm crafty, I'm reasonably clever, and most importantly, I have my own sewing machine. Specifically, I have my mom's old sewing machine from the early nineties that I have never really learned how to use despite my best intentions, but let's not pick nits. It's a sewing machine, and it works. How hard could it be? (she asked with innocent hubris and massive amounts of unearned self-confidence.)

I spent the first part of the morning running more cats to the spay clinic, but that was so early in the morning it barely counts. After that, I pulled the sewing machine's rolly suitcase into the living room and set it up on a TV tray because we do not have an eating table and my husband and son were using both our desks for their various schools. A half hour of reading the user manual (copyright 1988) and watching some YouTube videos was enough to let me get the machine threaded, and I was ready to go! I was ready to... snap the thread instantly! I was ready to fuck around some with the tension dial so maybe it would not do that! I was ready to rethread the bobbin so it would not do that other thing! I was ready to make an absolutely unholy tangle, five or six times in a row! It was all amazing, I am clearly a prodigy. 

It was around this point that I adjusted my expectations for churning out a couple masks and decided today would be a practice day. I cut a few squares out of an old t-shirt and practiced doing simple straight seams, which is apparently a lot harder than it looks. It took another four or five hours to routinely be able to make more than one seam in a row without rethreading everything, but I'm getting a lot better! And as a bonus,, I've been seaming rectangles on three and a half sides, then turning them inside out so the kiddo can stuff them with polyfil and sew them shut into pillows. His stitches, while a little large, are surprisingly straight! Good job. I think that with some continued work, I will be able to turn a pillowcase into a couple of credible masks before Monday. I hope, anyway. 

Today was also exciting because it was GROCERY DAY. I have been waiting a very long time for this day, with my extremely large aspirational shopping list and very high hopes. The most important part first: they did include the 100 pack of colored pencils! I'm so excited! I ended up with eight unavailable items (including the pencil sharpener unfortunately), and 20 substitutions, but for the most part the substitutions were sensible and often much better than what I'd asked for in the first place. I am 1000% not going to quibble if they want to assuage my disappointment in not getting the pints of ice cream I wanted by subbing in gallons of a different flavor. That is more than okay with me, dudes! They also threw in a bag of someone else's groceries, consisting of some baby cheetos, a box of infant Midol, and a red onion, and I haven't seen my Sour Patch Kids anywhere. But for pity's sake, there's a pandemic on, and when you play Game of Groceries, you 'get what you get and you don't make a fit,' as one of the kiddo's preschool teachers used to tell him. I gave the guys a glowing five star review and left a comment on the corporate Facebook about the good job the store was doing. They are not allowed to take tips at Walmart, which blows, but hopefully that will help them a little at least. 

So all in all, we have enough groceries to last us at least a month, though we'll probably have to go out for milk, OJ and bread a couple of times. The fridge is packed, as is the freezer (three gallons is a fuck of a lot of ice cream, my friends,) and the pantry. In looking at it all, I am willing to concede that I may have become a little squirrel brained this week, especially after the check came in yesterday, and that when I go to the food drive on Monday I should probably take a couple bags of stuff. Nobody needs fifteen cans of pasta sauce to last a month, and we still haven't eaten five of those cans of Spam I had before. There is a fine line between feeling good for having enough and feeling bad because you have too much and other people don't. On the other hand, I bought all the ingredients for key lime pie, plus a carton of fresh whipping cream. It's going to be _so good._  We also have five bunches of bananas, but that was just an accident. Good thing we've got that banana bread with chocolate chips recipe! Still no toilet paper to be had, but we have enough for now. 

Found a fun free game on the App store called Seedship, that killed a couple of hours while I tried to save a sleeper ship full of the last remnants of the human race. Kiddo is reading Bunnicula for the second day in a row, he likes it! I'm glad, I used to love that book. He's also learning to do some fairly sophisticated math for fourth grade involving adding fractions of a circle's radius. I had to think for a minute to figure out what 5/8 of a full rotation would be, and then encourage him to think in the right way to figure it out too. It is 225 degrees, which we figured out in our heads by starting with the clue that 1/4=90 degrees, changing that to 2/8, then dividing it in half to get 1/8=45 degrees. He did nearly all of it himself, too, with just a little nudging from me, and then went on to figure out twelfths as well, then how to add various fractions to figure out total degrees. I'm very proud of him! 

I wonder if it's going to be weird in future years if I or anyone else comes back to look at this and notices that I journal hardly at all about world events, and a huge amount about the contents of my pantry. The contents of my pantry is way less depressing. Reading the news is scary or sad or infuriating or frustrating, but digging out leftovers and cleverly combining them into a new casserole is both productive and fun. It's important, I think, to feel a sense of control, even when very little is controllable. That's maybe not the biggest reason I'm still trying to volunteer, but it's definitely on the list. You're not helpless if you can help others, even in small ways, even if that other is just a cat who doesn't even like you. 

Still no bar exam results. It's gonna be a long day.

[marril96]

The Distance Between Us

Chapter 15: In Sickness and in Health

Pairing: Rowena x reader

Summary: Rowena is a bit under the weather.

Editor: @wonderifshelikesroses

"Whatever you did to the wicked bitch, it worked," Crowley said, tone rich with approval. Proud to the bone. "Keep doing it."

No good morning.

No hello.

Not even a sarcastic remark.

If you didn't love him, you would have shoved him.

"Good morning to you, too," you said, earning you a smug smirk. Jackass. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Sam threw his signature bitchface at Crowley and rolled his eyes. Dean seemed amused, and Castiel looked out of place as usual. As if he'd suddenly found himself surrounded by strangers and was too awkward to get away. Classic him. Meg, clutching his arm to keep warm, was smirking, intrigued by whatever drama (and it most certainly was drama. With Crowley's uninhibited approach, it could hardly be anything else) was happening.

Well, shit.

What had you walked into now?

"Rowena's sick," Sam said.

"Oh." You forced your face to remain neutral. Shoved down the concern that nibbled at you like an army of fire ants crawling over your insides. "I can't take the credit, but I'm sure she'll be fine."

She was Rowena MacLeod.

She survived.

"She picked up some nasty ailment while on your little trip to the cinema ," Crowley said with disturbing joy. "My sincerest gratitude. Granted, it's annoying to listen to her whine at home, but at least I don't have to look at her at school. And she got knocked down a peg. That's always a pleasure."

"I'm so glad I could help," you said dryly.

It wasn't like you intended for her to get sick.

If anything, the purpose of going to the movies was to have fun. To show her there was more to movies than black and white classics.

Wait…

How did Crowley know where you went? Had someone from school seen you and spread the rumor? Or had Rowena told him in a rare moment of sibling bonding?

"You went to the movies with her?" Dean said in the tone that hoped the answer would be negative.

You weren't at all sorry to disappoint. "I did."

"Seriously?"

"Uh-huh."

What did he want you to say? That it wasn't true? That he'd dreamed it?

You were with Rowena Saturday evening. Watching a horror movie. Holding hands.

Your heart swelled up with warmth at the memory. Your hand still tingled where hers held it. Where her tiny fingers squeezed with impeccable strength.

"So, what, she's your friend now?" Dean said, accusation clear in his tone.

Your hands balled into fists at your sides, anger flaring through you like lava in your blood. Why did he care? Why did any of them care? Who you hung out with was none of his business.

"Why do you care?" you snapped.

"Because she's Rowena?" he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You know, bitch, bully, dating the guy who grabbed your ass."

"I'm well aware of who she is, thank you very much," you retorted. "That still doesn't make it any of your business."

"I'm just trying to look out for you."

Noble, but no less annoying.

It was Rowena.

Yes, she hung out with bad people. And yes, she dated a douchebag. But you could handle her. Regardless of the people she was surrounded with, she was harmless.

"I can look out for myself."

Dean sighed. "Look, I'm just saying she's not the best company."

"I can make that decision for myself," you said. "Besides, we aren't even friends. We just hang out sometimes. She's my tutor."

He cocked up an eyebrow. "She tutoring you at the movies?"

"For the last time, none of your business."

He raised his hands up in a placating motion. "Whatever, dude. Just be careful."

You smiled sweetly. Too sweetly. Condescendingly. "I'm always careful."

"She got you good," Crowley commented.

"It's none of your business, either," you told him.

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

"Duly noted," you said sardonically.

"I, for one, am glad you guys are hanging out," Sam said warmly.

"Of course you are," Dean commented.

You ignored him, flashing his brother (who was giving him his signature bitchface) a smile. "Thank you. It's nice to take a break from studying from time to time."

"Right," Sam said, nodding, a conspicuous smile on his mouth. "From studying."

Was that disbelief in his tone? A touch of teasing?

No way.

You and Rowena were just friends.

Not even that.

Whatever Sam was implying (or you thought he was implying) would never come to be.

*****

Ms. Hanscum was going on and on about today's lesson, reminding you with each word why Math was your least favorite subject.

You yawned, exhausted, longing for the warmth of your bed. God, you hated Mondays.

You especially hated Math on Mondays.

As if it wasn't enough that you'd gone to bed late and slept badly and that your friends had all but spat on your budding friendship with a mean girl, you had to listen to numbers and formulas that you didn't understand and Rowena wasn't there to flash you that smile that wasn't as smug as it'd initially looked and give you a look that promised that later on, once she was done with you, you would understand everything. Or at least enough for a D.

You missed her.

You hated yourself for it, but, god, you missed having her in this class.

It was silly; you were well aware of that. It was just one day — one class — without her. She would be back in no time.

You'd spent so much time wishing she would go away and now that it finally came true, you were miserable.

Life was full of irony.

Ten minutes before the end of class, Ms. Hanscum started rambling about the midterm. As if a wave of ice-cold water had suddenly washed over you, you froze, chills making their way down your spine as you watched the white chalk as it scrawled over the board.

There it was — the date of the midterm.

Two weeks from now.

Two measly, lowly weeks.

Shit, shit, shit.

There was no way you could prepare for that. No way you could learn all the lessons, even with Rowena's help.

You were screwed.

When the bell rung, you quickly gathered your things and rushed out. You needed to be away from this class. Away from numbers and dates and midterms. Away from Ms. Hanscum.

Unfortunately, she had other plans.

"Y/N?" she said in her sweet, friendly voice you found yourself resenting. How dare she be so nice after announcing such a difficult exam? "Could you stay a little bit, please?"

You stopped in your tracks. Sighed. Willed yourself to push the turmoil down. "Of course, Ms. Hanscum."

It wasn't like you could say no.

She waited for the last student to leave before saying, "As I'm sure you noticed, your new friend is sick today."

"She's not my friend," you said, more out of habit than actual denial. She was your friend. Or was on her way to becoming it.

"Right," Ms. Hanscum said, not really buying it. Or not caring about the correct terminology. "I was wondering if you'd be willing to take her homework over to her? With the midterm coming, I don't want her to miss anything."

"I, uh, sure," you instantly said. No thinking it through. Instinct taking over.

You wanted to see Rowena. Wanted to see how she was doing. Bringing her homework over would be the perfect excuse.

As an added bonus, maybe she would infect you and you could miss the midterm.

Win-win on both ends.

"Wonderful!" Ms. Hanscum beamed. She handed you two folded up sheets of paper, smile never leaving her mouth. How could she always be so cheery? While teaching Math, no less. Maybe she was an alien. "Tell her I hope she gets better soon!"

"I will," you said with a nod.

You would be wishing the same thing.

*****

The last person you expected to greet you at the door of the MacLeods' house was a surprisingly well groomed old man with snow-white hair and an impressive beard.

He looked like Santa Claus who'd lost a couple pounds and replaced his red suit with a black tuxedo.

You eyed him, surprised. Crowley hadn't mentioned having any visitors this morning at school.

But then, he was Crowley. He spent more time at bars than at home.

"Hello, young lady," the man said politely. It was the kind of politeness that was learned, perfected over years. Professional. Somehow, it put you at ease.

"Um, hi. I'm here to see Rowena."

You clutched your bag to you in emphasis. And also because it was cold. Layers of clothes and boots weren't a huge help in this weather.

Winter sucked.

"Of course! Come on in."

He opened the door and stepped aside to let you in, then closed it gently but firmly behind you.

"I must warn you, young miss is sick," he said. "Seems to be the flu. This year's got it bad."

Ouch.

Lucky for you, you got your shot on time.

"I heard," you said sympathetically. "I won't be long. I'm just here to give her today's Math homework."

"That's very kind of you," the man said. "Are you the one she tutors? Her mother mentioned a girl who often comes around for lessons."

"That'd be me."

You smiled awkwardly and started following after him as he led you up to Rowena's room.

"How rude of me. I haven't introduced myself." He stuck out a hand, a kind smile on his mouth. "I'm Guthrie. The nanny."

Nice.

You'd never seen a nanny such as him.

You shook his hand. "I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise."

He gently knocked on Rowena's door.

"What?" came her instant response. Annoyed. Scornful. So Rowena.

You had to smile. It felt good to hear her voice.

"You have a visitor," Guthrie told her.

She sighed, purposely loudly. "Send her in."

He opened the door and motioned for you to do as told. Rowena was on her bed, sitting cross-legged, clad in cute red pajamas and woolen socks, and wrapped in a fluffy blanket. Her laptop was open in front of her, the screen bright as the light overhead. She was paler than usual. All color was gone from her face, leaving her skin ashen, white as bone. Her hair was messy, resembling a bird's nest.

It was strange to see her like this. Rid of her glamour. No makeup to hide her features. No shiny clothes to cling to her lithe body.

Just a girl like any other.

And she let you, of all people, in to see it.

It felt like a privilege. Like you'd just been granted a priceless gift.

"Hello, sick girl," you said teasingly.

She allowed a smile to graze her dry mouth. "You're on thin ice, lass."

You put your hands up defensively. "Hey, you're the one who let me in."

"I'm starting to regret it."

You chuckled. She followed suit.

"How'd you know it was me?"

"Who else would be here at this ungodly hour?"

"It's three PM," you pointed out. Your designated studying time.

She smirked. "My point exactly."

"Do you need anything, Rowena?" Guthrie asked in the soft, gentle tone of a father concerned for his child's wellbeing.

"I'm fine," she said, exasperated.

He nodded. "I will leave you girls to it, then."

With a small bow, he closed the door behind him and stalked downstairs, his footsteps echoing in the hall.

You raised an eyebrow. "Grandpa nanny?"

"Mother calls him when Fergus and I aren't home to take care of Gavin," Rowena explained. She rolled her eyes. "And me, apparently. I told her I'm perfectly fine, but apparently being sick makes me unable to take care of my brother. Like I'm a bloody invalid."

"Maybe she's right," you said, shrugging.

She glared at you. "I'm fine."

"You're sick. And she's your mom. She worries."

"She's overbearing, is what she is."

Agree to disagree.

"Why are you doing here?" she asked. "You do know I have the flu, right?"

"You look it," you teased, nodding. She narrowed her eyes, annoyed. You laughed. "I'm here on business. Ms. Hanscum sent me to deliver your homework."

"Of course she did."

You handed her the papers. She looked them over, curious.

"I take it you won't have trouble with it," you said.

"Och, darling, you know I'm a genius."

Your heart fluttered at the pet name. "Yeah, you're Einstein."

She grinned. "Is that all?"

If only.

"There's gonna be a midterm before winter break."

The words tasted foul in your mouth. Bitter. Your stomach turned.

Rowena nodded. "What do you say we start preparing for it this Saturday? I suppose my ailment will pass by then."

"Sure." You turned to her, fear straining your face. Swallowing a lump in your throat, you asked, "You think there's enough time?"

She frowned, confused. "For what?"

"For me to, you know, get everything."

"Och, aye! Don't you worry, dear. By the time the midterm comes, you will be a Maths expert. Second only to me, of course."

You had to give a small chuckle. She knew how to lighten the mood. "You're so humble." She shrugged. Your face fell. "Really, though, I'm scared."

It took a lot of courage to say it, but once it was out of your system, you were relieved. It was out in the open now. No more just your burden to bear.

Rowena's expression softened, sympathy spilling over her face. "Don't worry," she said softly. Soothingly. "You will pass this exam."

It was easy for her to say. She was a genius. One of the best students in the school. Everything came easy to her.

She had no idea what it was like to turn over in bed all night for days on end as thoughts of failure chased your dreams away.

"What if I don't?"

"You will," Rowena said decisively. She reached for your hand and squeezed it. The touch was gentle, comforting. Her skin warm on yours, sending waves of excitement, elation, through you and putting you at ease all at once. "I promise."

A new hope blossomed within you.

If she said it, then so it would be.

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @oswinthestrange @songofthecagedmoose @apurdyfulmind @getthesalt-sam @metallihca @salembitchtrials @jay-eris @hellsmother @elizabeth-effie @victoriasagittariablack @rowenaswife @wonderifshelikesroses @xfireandsin @liddell-alien @hotdiggitydammit @lae-lae @darkhumorsblog @gaysnakess @angel7376 @cherrypierowena @ruthieconnells @evil-regal-vampiress @collectorofsecretsandsouls @angel-e-v-a @tasyahilker @a-queen-and-her-throne

[inkofamethyst]

May 18, 2020

Day 139 of the Cute Campaign: look, it’s my first Monday off, okay?  let me be.

Day 67 of The Q: so, technically I think the stay at home orders are gradually being lifted in my state/county?  Alright, just looked it up: my county is remaining under a state of emergency.  Well, guess it’s time to start writing that script.

GUESS WHAT I’M HERE TO TELL Y’ALL THO

100% ON MY CALC 3 FINAL WOO!!

I’VE GOT AN A+ OVERALL IN THE CLASS!!!

(unfortunately, an A+ is no more useful than an A to my GPA, but it is nice to see on a transcript)

I guess the elective really did work out for me overall: I’ve got an A+ in the class and can claim that I have a strong math background because of it.  So the average for this exam (the final) was actually the highest of any of the exams we’d taken in the class: 88%, meaning that a ton of people probably saw quite a boost to their grade after it was put in this morning.  

I will say that if we’re online (for some reason) next semester, there should probably be a bit more standardization when it comes to classes especially in the math department.  I’ve seen (on reddit) stories about some math professors allotting an hour for an exam while other professors give three or twelve.  I know professors have a lot of leeway when it comes to the creation of their classes and syllabus, but I don’t think it’s particularly fair for students if online accommodations are so wildly different between them.

Ah well.  Next semester I’ll be taking one large freshman class (evolutionary and ecological biology) which has three different sections/professors teaching it, so we’ll see how that goes.  I don’t anticipate the class being particularly difficult though.  Oh, and I’m also taking Orgo 2 which has three different profs, so we’ll see how that goes.  I’m not taking the major’s version by the way.  I had the option and honestly I think I prefer the prof I chose.

I think I’m a little worried about the reaction to my four-year plan.  I plan to double major (possibly earning a dual degree because I’m almost positive that I’ll have enough credits) in biology and anthropology, right?  It’s just that I’ll barely be fitting in both majors even if I do the anthro study abroad and even with my anthro class this summer.  Like, in my last semester I’ve got three anthro courses I’m taking that are required to complete the major.  One summer I will have to take a 6-credit archaeology class (I just checked and the class is required for the archaeology specialization and is only offered during the summer), whether it’s the study abroad or a class that I commute to.  What this means is that I will actually end up with an abundance of anthropology credits and pretty much just the bare minimum for my biology major.  I’m probably worried for no reason whatsoever, but I don’t want either advisor to think that I’m just trying to squeeze in one major or the other just for the sake of it because that’s not at all what I’m doing.  I honestly think that I will enjoy both majors equally, but since I’m more interested in archaeology as a career then it makes sense that I would take more anthro class, you know?

Like I said, I’m probably worried for nothing.  I just don’t want my motives to be questioned.

Yo if I don’t get into that study abroad next summer, this could be very bad.  Like, technically I could take it the following summer or technically I could do the home version the following summer, but I’d really honestly rather not have to deal with either of those options.

Well, lucky for me is that taking the anth course this summer and taking the field methods course another summer (worth 6 credits and 3 of those credits will be applied as anthropology elective credits) will open up two 3-credit classes worth of space for me to fill with whatever during a regular semester.  It provides me with a bit more wiggle room to either take courses outside of both majors or to take more specialization courses inside either major.  Like, there’s an osteology course (study of bones) offered some semesters by the anthropology department that I’m kind of interested in, for example.  And there are a ton of biology courses dealing with evolution that I’d be interested in taking (just have to get through the initial weed-outs lol).  

By the way, I’m not specializing in evolutionary and ecological biology (or at least I don’t plan to) mostly because cell biology and genetics sounds more impressive and because I know I’m interested in those topics as well.  My planned specialization requires that I take biology enrichment courses outside of the specialization anyway, so I’ll be ok.

Honestly, I’m curious as to how many bio/anth doubles there are.  Like, there’s so much overlap that (5 courses + required gen-eds) it seems like a really easy double to do.  Also it would probably look pretty good on a resume to have an anthropology major in addition to whatever science a person might take (in the same way that a philosophy major might look good, anyway).  I don’t know, I just feel like I’ve hit the jackpot, and not a moment too soon.  

Today I’m thankful that I discovered that sneaky little clause about the archaeology focus in the requirements for an anthropology major.  I should now how two classes freed up during the semester because of it.  Maybe I could take a history class in one of the areas I’m interested in for excavations.  Classical archaeology or something.  I don’t know.  Or I could use it to take another biology class.  We’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?

[imagineiero]

Grade A

teacher/student frerard fanfiction (smut warning) teacher!frank + student!gerard

Frank didn’t set out to become a teacher, in fact he’d spent the majority of his school career despising the very profession - the source of his unhappiness, along with relentless school bullies. He’d been intelligent enough to get a scholarship and spend a year or so studying in university before dropping out and pursuing his dream as a musician, that was how his life was supposed to be planned out - he’d imagined it since he was four years old and sat in a speak-easy watching his Grandfathers band play, music was his life - he was born to play, it was in his DNA.

The crash hadn’t been part of his premonition, he hadn’t expected his dream to turn into a nightmare and he definitely didn’t see such a tragedy signalling the end of his career. He’d lost his best friend that night, as well as band-mate and Frank just couldn’t see himself getting back up on stage without his right-hand man, maybe it was cowardly - or maybe Frank was just shaken into an easy life, one with minimal risk and hearts intact. His family, especially his Mother had been happy to hear of his decision - while they knew that music was his love, his everything - they had attended the funeral with broken hearts, only thankful that it wasn’t their son they were burying.

It had been six years now and Frank was turning thirty in the fall, he still played his guitar everyday - he couldn’t ever give up that part of him, it was like an extra limb - it was part of him, a piece of his heart. He’d obtained his teaching degree rather quickly, his partial university education helping him bypass some of the coursework - he was rather well known now in Jersey as someone who had the skills to tutor even the lowest performing student into an exam-worthy scholar.

Frank didn’t work in a school, couldn’t bring himself to set foot in the building he had wished to burn to the ground barely twelve years before. Instead he’d set himself up a private tutoring service from the comfort of his own home, he’d take on one student at a time with weekends at his leisure - it gave him the time to focus on his clients fully instead of going from one student to another and mixing up their school-work. He’d met a diverse range of people through his tutoring, he taught all ages - anyone from little Rosie Michaels who was a seven year old in special education to fifteen year old Johnny Byers who’d been kicked out of school for setting fire to a science lab.

All of his students flourished, maybe it was his style of teaching and laid back attitude that helped him connect with the younger students. Frank made a pact with himself not to become one of those boring old teachers who’d lost the love of their craft years before and instead took it out on those they taught. It was working out fine for him as the years went by and last year he’d even managed to win a community nominated award for services to children - he was achieving greatly, he felt like he’d found his path in life and things were going well.

Gerard was his latest student, he’d been tutoring him for three months now and the boy was improving thanks to Frank’s dedication. Gerard was 19, he’d been held back a few years in school due to lack of progression - his Mother said he’d been bullied badly, to the extent that he refused to attend school and as a result failed to graduate. Frank wasn’t sure what to expect until Gerard showed up on his doorstep on that first Monday morning.

To put it nicely, Gerard was a total sweetheart - He walked shyly into the large open-plan room that Frank had dubbed his classroom, his soft black hair framing his pale, pixie-like face. Gerard was feminine to say the least, in fact he was androgynous and downright beautiful - Frank couldn’t help but notice the sway of his hips and the way his eyes widened so innocently every time Frank spoke to him. To top it all off, Gerard was wearing a baby pink dress - his milky thighs peeking out between the midway hem and a pair of white thigh-highs, Frank’s throat dried up at the sight.

Over the coming weeks Gerard began to ease into student life, overcoming his initial shyness and becoming more comfortable with Frank. His teacher was having a less than easy life though, in all his years of teachers he had prided himself on the fact he had never been attracted to one of his students, and though Gerard was 19 and fully legal it still felt immoral and wrong, but he just couldn’t help himself. He wondered sometimes if Gerard could see the effect he was having on him, wondered if he knew that the way he sucked on his lower lip made Frank’s jeans tighten just a little - wondered if he could see the way Frank’s eyes trailed the length of his body as he entered the classroom each morning.

Frank decided that it wasn’t completely weird that he let Gerard into his thoughts when he touched himself at night, it was just imaginary after all - where was the harm? He couldn’t deny that the thoughts of Gerard with his soft cotton dresses, bitten-red lips and doe-eyes gave him the most intense orgasms he’d ever experienced. It both excited and pained him to spend so much time with Gerard, wishing that they had met under different circumstances because Gerard was definitely the type of boy Frank would ask on a date.

“Hey Sweetheart, did you get that homework finished for me?” Frank asked as he heard the faint patter of Gerard’s white slip-ons coming down the hallway.

They’d built up a routine now, Gerard would arrive at eight-thirty each morning and let himself in - Frank would be in the kitchen making breakfast for them both, making sure to pour Gerard a coffee to get him to wake up a little, the boy hated mornings almost as much as he hated Math class.

“Yes Sir” Gerard hummed, sliding into his chair at the table and getting out his English essay “Did you sleep well, Mr Iero?”

“You know you can call me by my first name, Gee” Frank reminded him as he did every day “I slept fine thank you, did you?”

“Okay Frankie” Gerard bit his lip, swinging his legs a bit as he watched Frank walk over with the coffee “I slept okay, had a bad dream but I went back to sleep for a bit.. that’s why I look messy today.. I overslept”

“You look fine-..” Frank frowned, placing the mug in front of him and turning back to retrieve a plate of pancakes “..-real pretty, I like your dress today”

“Thanks Frankie” Gerard blushed, sipping at his drink before waving his hand furiously in front of his mouth “Ouch-Ouch-Ouch!”

“Careful Gee, it’s hot” Frank mused, repeating the same words he used every morning when Gerard was too quick to drink his caffeine

They went through their morning routine as usual, sharing pancakes and coffee as Frank marked Gerard’s work and Gerard got started on his next task.

“You did well on this one” Frank praised, sliding the essay back over to Gerard who grinned happily “A few spelling mistakes but nothing too major, it’s a really great piece Gee - you’re really improving”

“Thanks to you, Sir” Gerard smiled, resting his chin on his hand as he blinked up at the older man

“Hey, you’re doing the hard work - I’m just helping a little” Frank replied modestly “Right, so shall we start reading the next chapter in our book? I want you to do a little mock test on it later on”

Gerard nodded excitedly, they’d been reading through their current book for a few days now and it was slowly becoming Gerard’s favourite read. It told the story of a young girl who wore pretty dresses and an innocent smile to seduce her older crush, Gerard couldn’t help but feel excited at the thought of trying out such a plan on his tutor. He’d seen the way Frank would stare at him when he thought he wasn’t looking, it had start off as innocent glances at first but the heat was rising between them and Gerard longed for the day when Frank would forget his morals and just take him.

They were curled up on the sofa now, Frank would always allow Gerard to get comfortable while he was reading to him - he tended to drift off and not concentrate otherwise, besides it made a difference to being cooped up in the classroom all day. Gerard would kick off his shoes and curl his legs up underneath him, leaning against the back of the sofa as he turned to face the older man who would read sonnets and plays and fiction with his smooth, velvety voice - unaware of the effect it had on his student.

“..-and so she put on her favourite colours, knowing the way her blush contrasted with the pink puff of her sleeves - before making her way to his study, praying he would be alone-..” Frank concentrated on the pages of the book, his thick-framed reading glasses making him look even cuter than Gerard had anticipated.

“Do you think that she was bad, Sir?” Gerard piped up, tilting his head to the side

“Bad?” Frank frowned, marking the page with his fingertip “Do you think she was bad, Gerard?”

“Well.. she’s trying to seduce him, but she’s much younger-.. isn’t that bad?”

“I guess-.. I guess in that kind of situation it would be the older man that’s wrong, Gerard” Frank tried to explain carefully “Because he’s the one who should know better.. it’s not right what she’s doing, no-.. but the older man should stop it before it goes ahead, he’s the adult in the situation”

“Because he’s older?”

“Yes and No-..” Frank licked his lips slightly “.. it’s not wrong because he’s older, it’s wrong because she’s still under-age.. and whether she consents or not, it’s not her decision - not really.. it’s statutory rape, however you look at it”

“What about if she was older?” Gerard reasoned “If-.. If she was the legal age but, but he was still older than her.. is that wrong?”

Frank ran his fingers through his hair, the situation hitting a little too close to home for his liking “I guess it’s how you look at it, I mean-.. I believe that two consenting, legal age people can be together but-.. but I guess it’s frowned upon a lot by people, it’s just perspective”

“I understand” Gerard nodded, biting the inside of his cheek so he didn’t look too elated at the fact Frank had basically just said it would be fine if he and Gerard were together.

Frank went on from where he left off, reading out sentences oblivious to the thoughts and emotions swimming through Gerard’s head. He figured that now was as good a time as any to make a move on the older man, especially after what he’d just said - he only wondered now if Frank liked him back, had he imagined all the longing glances and attention? Only one way to find out.

Gerard stretched his leg out, pretending to straighten the hem of his thigh highs and taking the opportunity to brush his foot against the inside of Frank’s calf, pretending that he hadn’t noticed the hitch in Frank’s breath and the way he stuttered over his word, mid-sentence. When he’d finished messing with the stocking he left his foot where it was, pressed up against the inside of Frank’s leg - gently caressing him over his jeans.

Frank paid no attention after the first contact, choosing to carry on with his reading - much to Gerard’s delight - it was when Gerard’s foot began to rise closer to his knee that Frank’s eyes flickered from the text to the white-clothed foot between his legs yet still he made no move to push Gerard away, instead trying to refocus on the task at hand.

“..-his infatuation was becoming too strong, he was weak to resist the angelic nymph-..”

Frank took a sharp intake of breath, eyes shooting up to Gerard who was watching him innocently - waiting for him to continue, acting unaware to the fact his foot was resting against Frank’s inner-thigh. Frank swallowed thickly, looking like he was debating something in his head before glancing down at his book and continuing, his voice sounding a little higher and more unsure as he went on.

Gerard was enjoying himself now, he could see the effect he was beginning to have on the older man from the way his entire body had stiffened and the way his Adam’s apple would bob up and down as he repeatedly swallowed. His foot began as a light caress but gradually grew stronger, the pressure increasing as he ran his foot along the inside of his thigh, stopping just barely before his crotch and only when on instinct Frank’s hand darted out to grab him, his loose grip on his ankle holding his foot just barely touching his crotch.

“G-Gerard-.. What are you-..” Frank breathed, the book dropping to the ground noisily though neither of them bothered to give it a second glance - they were too caught up in the charged stare they were currently sharing.

“Nothing, Sir” Gerard bit his lip, raising his eyebrow slightly in challenge

Frank swallowed the lump in his throat, his eyes showing hesitation before he loosened his grip entirely on Gerard’s ankle, leaving him to press his foot tentatively against Frank’s already tented jeans, eyes widening as the ball of his foot grazed the outline of Frank’s arousal.

“G-Gerard-..I-..” Frank whispered hoarsely, unsure where to put himself at this point but not strong enough to push Gerard away, not when he was touching him so intimately, it was all he’d dreamed of for months “G-Ger-..”

“Shh..” Gerard whispered, moving forwards to place his fingertip over Frank’s lips “Please don’t make me stop..”

“I-..I-..O-Okay-..” Frank stuttered out, blinking softly

Gerard moved his foot away, carefully sliding his way into Frank’s lap and planting himself over his teacher’s erection, his forearms draped gently over the older man’s shoulders.

“Is this okay, Sir?” Gerard asked innocently, tilting his head slightly

Frank nodded quietly, unable to form words as his hands lay planted stiffly at his sides

Gerard pushed his slender fingers through Frank’s hair, pushing it back slightly as the older man’s eyes fluttered shut momentarily. He slowly removed Frank’s glasses and placed them down on the table, tracing his fingertips down the side of his cheek and jawline, his lips parting as he watched curiously. Gerard gently brushed their lips together, pulling a quiet whimper from his teacher before he pressed them together properly, sliding his arms over his shoulders and feeding his fingers through Frank’s hair.

Frank came to life now, his hands gently resting on Gerard’s hips, thumbs caressing circles against the soft cotton of his dress as their mouths moved in sync. He gasped lightly into Gerard’s mouth when the boy rolled his hips, pressing deliciously against his tight jeans - setting his entire body alight with burning want. He tentatively swept his tongue along Gerard’s lower lip, pleased when he parted his lips and allowed him entrance, their tongues fighting against one another until Frank overpowered him and dragged the tip along the roof of his mouth, making him whimper softly.

By now Frank was more confident in his actions, pushing one hand against his bare thigh and travelling beneath his dress, squeezing at the flesh of his thigh as Gerard rolled his hips again. The younger boy’s fingers found their way to Frank’s shirt, not hesitating before unfastening the buttons deftly, his fingertips pushing the material from the teacher’s shoulders and trailing down his tattooed chest. Gerard broke the kiss to mouth his way down Frank’s neck and collar bone, biting down playfully on his clavicle as the older man sighed breathlessly.

“Mm.. do that again-..” Frank murmured, tilting his head back against the sofa

Gerard clamped his teeth around the soft skin, running his tongue over the bite repeatedly as he gently sucked a purple bruise into his canvas. He pulled away to admire his work, pressing a soft kiss to the blemish - pleased with how blissed out Frank looked already with his bitten red lips and half-lidded eyes. He traced his fingers over the tattoos decorating Frank’s torso, dragging the tips down until he could tease just beneath the waistband of his jeans, glancing up at him expectantly - pleased when Frank nodded, bucking his hips up just enough for Gerard to unfasten his belt and shimmy the offending material to the ground.

Gerard sat himself in the space between Frank’s feet, looking up at the older man who sat naked awaiting his next movement. His cock stood proudly, curving towards his stomach - Gerard couldn’t help but lick his lips at the sight, making Frank’s mouth water as he kissed his way up the inside of his thigh. Frank couldn’t believe he’d found himself in this position, he’d fantasised about it way too much but hadn’t ever considered it becoming a reality.

Gerard’s fingertips raked against the sensitive skin of Frank’s inner thighs as he lips and tongue followed the trail, gently wrapping themselves around his thick cock - his thumb sweeping over the tip and soaking up the first beads of pre-cum. Frank let his eyes flutter shut, his head lolling back slightly as he relied on his sense of touch to feel everything Gerard was submitting him to.

The sensation of Gerard’s hot breath blowing against his leaking tip made his breath hitch and he held it for what seemed like forever until Gerard’s mouth engulfed him and he let out a low groan, his hand unconsciously finding its way to Gerard’s mess of hair. He pressed his tongue flat against the underside of Frank’s cock, teasing along the prominent vein as he inched his way down - only stopping to breath through his nose when his face was buried in the wiry hairs at Frank’s base.

“G-G-..Ohhh..” Frank murmured, gently tugging at Gerard’s hair as his eyebrows furrowed, lost in the feeling and never wanting it to end.

Gerard’s fingers toyed with his balls, rolling them around before edging backwards and stroking his fingertips against his perineum making Frank buck involuntarily into the back of his throat. Gerard moaned, desperate to have his mouth filled as much as possible - he’d been dreaming about his teacher for weeks now, surprised in himself that he’d managed to wait this long.

He began to slide up and down Frank’s erection, pleased when the older man would momentarily lose control and thrust up into his mouth. He pushed his hand further beneath him until he could stroke his fingers around his tight rim, spurred on when Frank whimpered a desperate “P-Please Gee.. oh fuck, please touch me-..”

He wasted no time in sinking two fingers past his tight ring of muscle, Frank loved the burn - letting his eyes roll back as he pushed down on the intrusion, alternating between riding on the two digits and thrusting up into Gerard’s pretty little mouth. Frank’s movements began to stutter after a while and Gerard was excited to have his tongue coated in release but his teacher clearly had other ideas, backing away just enough to stop his movements.

“W-Wanna fuck you-..” Frank grunted out between breaths

“You want me to ride you, Sir?” Gerard asked sweetly, using his best puppy dog eyes as Frank whined quietly at the word ‘Sir’

Frank shook his head, nodding towards the other side of the sofa “Hands and Knees”

Gerard obeyed him, resting his forearms on the arms of the sofa and waiting for further instruction

“Good boy” Frank slurred, clumsily climbing to his feet. His eyes were dark and lustful now, all responsibility discarded and replaced with a need to ruin the pretty boy offering himself up to him.

He flipped the hem of the dress over Gerard’s hips, revealing his pale blue panties barely containing the bulge between his legs. His fingers were rough against the soft material, rubbing at Gerard’s erection and pressing his fingertips gently against his balls - tracing all the way back until he could trace the crease of his ass, swatting him sharply and pulling a desperate whimper from the younger man.

“So fuckin’ pretty.. look at you..” Frank groaned hungrily “.. all laid out ready to play”

He wasted no time in tugging the material down past Gerard’s thighs, leaving them bunched at his knees and pressing both hands against his ass cheeks, parting them until he exposed the fluttering pink hole. He massaged the meaty flesh for a moment, pulling him apart and then kneading him back together until finally without warning he pressed his tongue against Gerard’s rim and pushed all the way in, dragging a strangled cry from the younger man as he ground back against Frank’s face desperately.

“Oh-..Oh-.. Oh Sir.. Oh Frankie-.. Oh don’t stop.. Oh please-..” Gerard chanted, fingertips digging into the material of the sofa, his cock leaking profusely between his thighs.

Frank’s tongue worked expertly, stretching him open until he was pliant and needy - letting his saliva coat his chin as he pressed as deep as he could, rubbing his open mouth against the desperate entrance before pushing two fingers past the rim without warning. Gerard cried out his name louder this time, a tone in his voice he’d never heard before - a brand new moan all for his teacher, he’d never felt this close before - like Frank was keeping him dancing dangerously on the edge but refusing to let him topple over into his climax.

By the time Frank was three fingers deep, Gerard was incoherently babbling - riding desperately on his fingers and driving Frank wild. He pulled out without warning, leaving Gerard to whine - head lowered between his arms as Frank left momentarily to find protection. He returned barely a minute later, his cock sheathed up and ready to go - Gerard gasped as he felt the head of Frank’s cock against his entrance, slowly edging inside him with his fingertips leaving crescent moons over Gerard’s hips.

He was slow and careful, bottoming out a few moments later with a sharp exhale, his fingertips caressing the soft skin of Gerard’s hips as they both got used to the tight hole. The air was thick and silent apart from their synchronised panting until Frank began to slide out with a groan, thrusting back in quicker than before and dragging a punched out moan from Gerard’s lips.

It didn’t take long to build up his rhythm, one hand planted firmly on his hip and the other buried in his mess of hair, tugging gently with each movement. Gerard’s cock was leaking profusely between his legs but any thought of the soiled material beneath them was long gone when Frank began to circle his hips, slamming relentlessly into Gerard’s waiting hole, stretching him impossibly open as Gerard whined and whimpered beneath him, Frank’s name falling from his lips along with expletives.

“Oh.. F-Frankie..Please-.. Harder-..” Gerard chanted “D-Don’t stop-.. Please-.. Ah-..”

Frank used all his strength to pound into him repeatedly until the familiar heat began to pool in his stomach, swirling lower and lower until he was crying out Gerard’s name and spilling over inside of him, pulling the younger man into climax along with him. They collapsed in an exhausted heap, limbs tangled and Frank’s face buried in the space between Gerard’s shoulder blades.

“I like this lesson” Gerard murmured a few minutes later “I definitely think you should teach this way more often”

Frank snorted, snaking an arm around his middle “You definitely get an A for that one, Gee”

Frank didn’t set out to become a teacher, in fact he’d spent the majority of his school career despising the very profession - the source of his unhappiness, along with relentless school bullies. He’d been intelligent enough to get a scholarship and spend a year or so studying in university before dropping out and pursuing his dream as a musician, that was how his life was supposed to be planned out - he’d imagined it since he was four years old and sat in a speak-easy watching his Grandfathers band play, music was his life - he was born to play, it was in his DNA.

The crash hadn’t been part of his premonition, he hadn’t expected his dream to turn into a nightmare and he definitely didn’t see such a tragedy signalling the end of his career. He’d lost his best friend that night, as well as band-mate and Frank just couldn’t see himself getting back up on stage without his right-hand man, maybe it was cowardly - or maybe Frank was just shaken into an easy life, one with minimal risk and hearts intact. His family, especially his Mother had been happy to hear of his decision - while they knew that music was his love, his everything - they had attended the funeral with broken hearts, only thankful that it wasn’t their son they were burying.

It had been six years now and Frank was turning thirty in the fall, he still played his guitar everyday - he couldn’t ever give up that part of him, it was like an extra limb - it was part of him, a piece of his heart. He’d obtained his teaching degree rather quickly, his partial university education helping him bypass some of the coursework - he was rather well known now in Jersey as someone who had the skills to tutor even the lowest performing student into an exam-worthy scholar.

Frank didn’t work in a school, couldn’t bring himself to set foot in the building he had wished to burn to the ground barely twelve years before. Instead he’d set himself up a private tutoring service from the comfort of his own home, he’d take on one student at a time with weekends at his leisure - it gave him the time to focus on his clients fully instead of going from one student to another and mixing up their school-work. He’d met a diverse range of people through his tutoring, he taught all ages - anyone from little Rosie Michaels who was a seven year old in special education to fifteen year old Johnny Byers who’d been kicked out of school for setting fire to a science lab.

All of his students flourished, maybe it was his style of teaching and laid back attitude that helped him connect with the younger students. Frank made a pact with himself not to become one of those boring old teachers who’d lost the love of their craft years before and instead took it out on those they taught. It was working out fine for him as the years went by and last year he’d even managed to win a community nominated award for services to children - he was achieving greatly, he felt like he’d found his path in life and things were going well.

Gerard was his latest student, he’d been tutoring him for three months now and the boy was improving thanks to Frank’s dedication. Gerard was 19, he’d been held back a few years in school due to lack of progression - his Mother said he’d been bullied badly, to the extent that he refused to attend school and as a result failed to graduate. Frank wasn’t sure what to expect until Gerard showed up on his doorstep on that first Monday morning.

To put it nicely, Gerard was a total sweetheart - He walked shyly into the large open-plan room that Frank had dubbed his classroom, his soft black hair framing his pale, pixie-like face. Gerard was feminine to say the least, in fact he was androgynous and downright beautiful - Frank couldn’t help but notice the sway of his hips and the way his eyes widened so innocently every time Frank spoke to him. To top it all off, Gerard was wearing a baby pink dress - his milky thighs peeking out between the midway hem and a pair of white thigh-highs, Frank’s throat dried up at the sight.

Over the coming weeks Gerard began to ease into student life, overcoming his initial shyness and becoming more comfortable with Frank. His teacher was having a less than easy life though, in all his years of teachers he had prided himself on the fact he had never been attracted to one of his students, and though Gerard was 19 and fully legal it still felt immoral and wrong, but he just couldn’t help himself. He wondered sometimes if Gerard could see the effect he was having on him, wondered if he knew that the way he sucked on his lower lip made Frank’s jeans tighten just a little - wondered if he could see the way Frank’s eyes trailed the length of his body as he entered the classroom each morning.

Frank decided that it wasn’t completely weird that he let Gerard into his thoughts when he touched himself at night, it was just imaginary after all - where was the harm? He couldn’t deny that the thoughts of Gerard with his soft cotton dresses, bitten-red lips and doe-eyes gave him the most intense orgasms he’d ever experienced. It both excited and pained him to spend so much time with Gerard, wishing that they had met under different circumstances because Gerard was definitely the type of boy Frank would ask on a date.

“Hey Sweetheart, did you get that homework finished for me?” Frank asked as he heard the faint patter of Gerard’s white slip-ons coming down the hallway.

They’d built up a routine now, Gerard would arrive at eight-thirty each morning and let himself in - Frank would be in the kitchen making breakfast for them both, making sure to pour Gerard a coffee to get him to wake up a little, the boy hated mornings almost as much as he hated Math class.

“Yes Sir” Gerard hummed, sliding into his chair at the table and getting out his English essay “Did you sleep well, Mr Iero?”

“You know you can call me by my first name, Gee” Frank reminded him as he did every day “I slept fine thank you, did you?”

“Okay Frankie” Gerard bit his lip, swinging his legs a bit as he watched Frank walk over with the coffee “I slept okay, had a bad dream but I went back to sleep for a bit.. that’s why I look messy today.. I overslept”

“You look fine-..” Frank frowned, placing the mug in front of him and turning back to retrieve a plate of pancakes “..-real pretty, I like your dress today”

“Thanks Frankie” Gerard blushed, sipping at his drink before waving his hand furiously in front of his mouth “Ouch-Ouch-Ouch!”

“Careful Gee, it’s hot” Frank mused, repeating the same words he used every morning when Gerard was too quick to drink his caffeine

They went through their morning routine as usual, sharing pancakes and coffee as Frank marked Gerard’s work and Gerard got started on his next task.

“You did well on this one” Frank praised, sliding the essay back over to Gerard who grinned happily “A few spelling mistakes but nothing too major, it’s a really great piece Gee - you’re really improving”

“Thanks to you, Sir” Gerard smiled, resting his chin on his hand as he blinked up at the older man

“Hey, you’re doing the hard work - I’m just helping a little” Frank replied modestly “Right, so shall we start reading the next chapter in our book? I want you to do a little mock test on it later on”

Gerard nodded excitedly, they’d been reading through their current book for a few days now and it was slowly becoming Gerard’s favourite read. It told the story of a young girl who wore pretty dresses and an innocent smile to seduce her older crush, Gerard couldn’t help but feel excited at the thought of trying out such a plan on his tutor. He’d seen the way Frank would stare at him when he thought he wasn’t looking, it had start off as innocent glances at first but the heat was rising between them and Gerard longed for the day when Frank would forget his morals and just take him.

They were curled up on the sofa now, Frank would always allow Gerard to get comfortable while he was reading to him - he tended to drift off and not concentrate otherwise, besides it made a difference to being cooped up in the classroom all day. Gerard would kick off his shoes and curl his legs up underneath him, leaning against the back of the sofa as he turned to face the older man who would read sonnets and plays and fiction with his smooth, velvety voice - unaware of the effect it had on his student.

“..-and so she put on her favourite colours, knowing the way her blush contrasted with the pink puff of her sleeves - before making her way to his study, praying he would be alone-..” Frank concentrated on the pages of the book, his thick-framed reading glasses making him look even cuter than Gerard had anticipated.

“Do you think that she was bad, Sir?” Gerard piped up, tilting his head to the side

“Bad?” Frank frowned, marking the page with his fingertip “Do you think she was bad, Gerard?”

“Well.. she’s trying to seduce him, but she’s much younger-.. isn’t that bad?”

“I guess-.. I guess in that kind of situation it would be the older man that’s wrong, Gerard” Frank tried to explain carefully “Because he’s the one who should know better.. it’s not right what she’s doing, no-.. but the older man should stop it before it goes ahead, he’s the adult in the situation”

“Because he’s older?”

“Yes and No-..” Frank licked his lips slightly “.. it’s not wrong because he’s older, it’s wrong because she’s still under-age.. and whether she consents or not, it’s not her decision - not really.. it’s statutory rape, however you look at it”

“What about if she was older?” Gerard reasoned “If-.. If she was the legal age but, but he was still older than her.. is that wrong?”

Frank ran his fingers through his hair, the situation hitting a little too close to home for his liking “I guess it’s how you look at it, I mean-.. I believe that two consenting, legal age people can be together but-.. but I guess it’s frowned upon a lot by people, it’s just perspective”

“I understand” Gerard nodded, biting the inside of his cheek so he didn’t look too elated at the fact Frank had basically just said it would be fine if he and Gerard were together.

Frank went on from where he left off, reading out sentences oblivious to the thoughts and emotions swimming through Gerard’s head. He figured that now was as good a time as any to make a move on the older man, especially after what he’d just said - he only wondered now if Frank liked him back, had he imagined all the longing glances and attention? Only one way to find out.

Gerard stretched his leg out, pretending to straighten the hem of his thigh highs and taking the opportunity to brush his foot against the inside of Frank’s calf, pretending that he hadn’t noticed the hitch in Frank’s breath and the way he stuttered over his word, mid-sentence. When he’d finished messing with the stocking he left his foot where it was, pressed up against the inside of Frank’s leg - gently caressing him over his jeans.

Frank paid no attention after the first contact, choosing to carry on with his reading - much to Gerard’s delight - it was when Gerard’s foot began to rise closer to his knee that Frank’s eyes flickered from the text to the white-clothed foot between his legs yet still he made no move to push Gerard away, instead trying to refocus on the task at hand.

“..-his infatuation was becoming too strong, he was weak to resist the angelic nymph-..”

Frank took a sharp intake of breath, eyes shooting up to Gerard who was watching him innocently - waiting for him to continue, acting unaware to the fact his foot was resting against Frank’s inner-thigh. Frank swallowed thickly, looking like he was debating something in his head before glancing down at his book and continuing, his voice sounding a little higher and more unsure as he went on.

Gerard was enjoying himself now, he could see the effect he was beginning to have on the older man from the way his entire body had stiffened and the way his Adam’s apple would bob up and down as he repeatedly swallowed. His foot began as a light caress but gradually grew stronger, the pressure increasing as he ran his foot along the inside of his thigh, stopping just barely before his crotch and only when on instinct Frank’s hand darted out to grab him, his loose grip on his ankle holding his foot just barely touching his crotch.

“G-Gerard-.. What are you-..” Frank breathed, the book dropping to the ground noisily though neither of them bothered to give it a second glance - they were too caught up in the charged stare they were currently sharing.

“Nothing, Sir” Gerard bit his lip, raising his eyebrow slightly in challenge

Frank swallowed the lump in his throat, his eyes showing hesitation before he loosened his grip entirely on Gerard’s ankle, leaving him to press his foot tentatively against Frank’s already tented jeans, eyes widening as the ball of his foot grazed the outline of Frank’s arousal.

“G-Gerard-..I-..” Frank whispered hoarsely, unsure where to put himself at this point but not strong enough to push Gerard away, not when he was touching him so intimately, it was all he’d dreamed of for months “G-Ger-..”

“Shh..” Gerard whispered, moving forwards to place his fingertip over Frank’s lips “Please don’t make me stop..”

“I-..I-..O-Okay-..” Frank stuttered out, blinking softly

Gerard moved his foot away, carefully sliding his way into Frank’s lap and planting himself over his teacher’s erection, his forearms draped gently over the older man’s shoulders.

“Is this okay, Sir?” Gerard asked innocently, tilting his head slightly

Frank nodded quietly, unable to form words as his hands lay planted stiffly at his sides

Gerard pushed his slender fingers through Frank’s hair, pushing it back slightly as the older man’s eyes fluttered shut momentarily. He slowly removed Frank’s glasses and placed them down on the table, tracing his fingertips down the side of his cheek and jawline, his lips parting as he watched curiously. Gerard gently brushed their lips together, pulling a quiet whimper from his teacher before he pressed them together properly, sliding his arms over his shoulders and feeding his fingers through Frank’s hair.

Frank came to life now, his hands gently resting on Gerard’s hips, thumbs caressing circles against the soft cotton of his dress as their mouths moved in sync. He gasped lightly into Gerard’s mouth when the boy rolled his hips, pressing deliciously against his tight jeans - setting his entire body alight with burning want. He tentatively swept his tongue along Gerard’s lower lip, pleased when he parted his lips and allowed him entrance, their tongues fighting against one another until Frank overpowered him and dragged the tip along the roof of his mouth, making him whimper softly.

By now Frank was more confident in his actions, pushing one hand against his bare thigh and travelling beneath his dress, squeezing at the flesh of his thigh as Gerard rolled his hips again. The younger boy’s fingers found their way to Frank’s shirt, not hesitating before unfastening the buttons deftly, his fingertips pushing the material from the teacher’s shoulders and trailing down his tattooed chest. Gerard broke the kiss to mouth his way down Frank’s neck and collar bone, biting down playfully on his clavicle as the older man sighed breathlessly.

“Mm.. do that again-..” Frank murmured, tilting his head back against the sofa

Gerard clamped his teeth around the soft skin, running his tongue over the bite repeatedly as he gently sucked a purple bruise into his canvas. He pulled away to admire his work, pressing a soft kiss to the blemish - pleased with how blissed out Frank looked already with his bitten red lips and half-lidded eyes. He traced his fingers over the tattoos decorating Frank’s torso, dragging the tips down until he could tease just beneath the waistband of his jeans, glancing up at him expectantly - pleased when Frank nodded, bucking his hips up just enough for Gerard to unfasten his belt and shimmy the offending material to the ground.

Gerard sat himself in the space between Frank’s feet, looking up at the older man who sat naked awaiting his next movement. His cock stood proudly, curving towards his stomach - Gerard couldn’t help but lick his lips at the sight, making Frank’s mouth water as he kissed his way up the inside of his thigh. Frank couldn’t believe he’d found himself in this position, he’d fantasised about it way too much but hadn’t ever considered it becoming a reality.

Gerard’s fingertips raked against the sensitive skin of Frank’s inner thighs as he lips and tongue followed the trail, gently wrapping themselves around his thick cock - his thumb sweeping over the tip and soaking up the first beads of pre-cum. Frank let his eyes flutter shut, his head lolling back slightly as he relied on his sense of touch to feel everything Gerard was submitting him to.

The sensation of Gerard’s hot breath blowing against his leaking tip made his breath hitch and he held it for what seemed like forever until Gerard’s mouth engulfed him and he let out a low groan, his hand unconsciously finding its way to Gerard’s mess of hair. He pressed his tongue flat against the underside of Frank’s cock, teasing along the prominent vein as he inched his way down - only stopping to breath through his nose when his face was buried in the wiry hairs at Frank’s base.

“G-G-..Ohhh..” Frank murmured, gently tugging at Gerard’s hair as his eyebrows furrowed, lost in the feeling and never wanting it to end.

Gerard’s fingers toyed with his balls, rolling them around before edging backwards and stroking his fingertips against his perineum making Frank buck involuntarily into the back of his throat. Gerard moaned, desperate to have his mouth filled as much as possible - he’d been dreaming about his teacher for weeks now, surprised in himself that he’d managed to wait this long.

He began to slide up and down Frank’s erection, pleased when the older man would momentarily lose control and thrust up into his mouth. He pushed his hand further beneath him until he could stroke his fingers around his tight rim, spurred on when Frank whimpered a desperate “P-Please Gee.. oh fuck, please touch me-..”

He wasted no time in sinking two fingers past his tight ring of muscle, Frank loved the burn - letting his eyes roll back as he pushed down on the intrusion, alternating between riding on the two digits and thrusting up into Gerard’s pretty little mouth. Frank’s movements began to stutter after a while and Gerard was excited to have his tongue coated in release but his teacher clearly had other ideas, backing away just enough to stop his movements.

“W-Wanna fuck you-..” Frank grunted out between breaths

“You want me to ride you, Sir?” Gerard asked sweetly, using his best puppy dog eyes as Frank whined quietly at the word ‘Sir’

Frank shook his head, nodding towards the other side of the sofa “Hands and Knees”

Gerard obeyed him, resting his forearms on the arms of the sofa and waiting for further instruction

“Good boy” Frank slurred, clumsily climbing to his feet. His eyes were dark and lustful now, all responsibility discarded and replaced with a need to ruin the pretty boy offering himself up to him.

He flipped the hem of the dress over Gerard’s hips, revealing his pale blue panties barely containing the bulge between his legs. His fingers were rough against the soft material, rubbing at Gerard’s erection and pressing his fingertips gently against his balls - tracing all the way back until he could trace the crease of his ass, swatting him sharply and pulling a desperate whimper from the younger man.

“So fuckin’ pretty.. look at you..” Frank groaned hungrily “.. all laid out ready to play”

He wasted no time in tugging the material down past Gerard’s thighs, leaving them bunched at his knees and pressing both hands against his ass cheeks, parting them until he exposed the fluttering pink hole. He massaged the meaty flesh for a moment, pulling him apart and then kneading him back together until finally without warning he pressed his tongue against Gerard’s rim and pushed all the way in, dragging a strangled cry from the younger man as he ground back against Frank’s face desperately.

“Oh-..Oh-.. Oh Sir.. Oh Frankie-.. Oh don’t stop.. Oh please-..” Gerard chanted, fingertips digging into the material of the sofa, his cock leaking profusely between his thighs.

Frank’s tongue worked expertly, stretching him open until he was pliant and needy - letting his saliva coat his chin as he pressed as deep as he could, rubbing his open mouth against the desperate entrance before pushing two fingers past the rim without warning. Gerard cried out his name louder this time, a tone in his voice he’d never heard before - a brand new moan all for his teacher, he’d never felt this close before - like Frank was keeping him dancing dangerously on the edge but refusing to let him topple over into his climax.

By the time Frank was three fingers deep, Gerard was incoherently babbling - riding desperately on his fingers and driving Frank wild. He pulled out without warning, leaving Gerard to whine - head lowered between his arms as Frank left momentarily to find protection. He returned barely a minute later, his cock sheathed up and ready to go - Gerard gasped as he felt the head of Frank’s cock against his entrance, slowly edging inside him with his fingertips leaving crescent moons over Gerard’s hips.

He was slow and careful, bottoming out a few moments later with a sharp exhale, his fingertips caressing the soft skin of Gerard’s hips as they both got used to the tight hole. The air was thick and silent apart from their synchronised panting until Frank began to slide out with a groan, thrusting back in quicker than before and dragging a punched out moan from Gerard’s lips.

It didn’t take long to build up his rhythm, one hand planted firmly on his hip and the other buried in his mess of hair, tugging gently with each movement. Gerard’s cock was leaking profusely between his legs but any thought of the soiled material beneath them was long gone when Frank began to circle his hips, slamming relentlessly into Gerard’s waiting hole, stretching him impossibly open as Gerard whined and whimpered beneath him, Frank’s name falling from his lips along with expletives.

“Oh.. F-Frankie..Please-.. Harder-..” Gerard chanted “D-Don’t stop-.. Please-.. Ah-..”

Frank used all his strength to pound into him repeatedly until the familiar heat began to pool in his stomach, swirling lower and lower until he was crying out Gerard’s name and spilling over inside of him, pulling the younger man into climax along with him. They collapsed in an exhausted heap, limbs tangled and Frank’s face buried in the space between Gerard’s shoulder blades.

“I like this lesson” Gerard murmured a few minutes later “I definitely think you should teach this way more often”

Frank snorted, snaking an arm around his middle “You definitely get an A for that one, Gee”

[whatifididsomethingnew]

Take Your Medication

I’m a college freshman in my second semester. I’ve been struggling with depression and ADHD for who knows how long, but I was diagnosed(i think? idk if it was official) in my freshman year of high school and given medication for it sometime in my senior year.

I didn’t take the medication very often. I started off strong, taking the ADHD medication especially to get me through classes and make sure the dosage lasted me to sixth period, my worst class at the time. But over the summer I stopped because I decided that the positive effects didn’t make up for the side effects: a lack of appetite and dry mouth.

Below the keep reading is my experience with mental illnesses and medication. It’s long. tl;dr If you have access to medication, take it. It helps. And make sure the dosage is right for you

 I’ve never been a bad student. Aside from failing algebra 2 in freshman year (ive never been good at “advanced” math, it was an IB class so even worse, and even better students agreed that the teacher was awful), I’ve gotten at worst 1-2 C’s per year. But since middle school I’ve found myself unable to pay attention, preferring to think about the book I want to read or the game I want to play or even just something else I started learning about. I figured out how to get by with finished homework and average tests. But I took about 6 AP tests in high school and only passed one, because I couldn’t study well enough to retain all the information I learned and forgot over the course, or pay attention to the exam to finish the multiple choice, or have enough foundation in the subject to write an essay that mattered at all.

This point in my life has almost certainly been my worst, depression-wise. I only live about twenty minutes away from my parents’ house, and I go home every weekend so I’m not just alone in my apartment for three days straight, but I’m still isolated during the week. My friends that are still in high school are busy with classes and extracurriculars and meeting with friends they still see everyday and very few of them have their own cars to drive up to visit me, and my friends in college are all busier than ever, all going to school anywhere from 15 minutes to like four hours away. My bad days are worse and happen more often and can span into bad weeks. I tend to write at best 1 page of notes after about 2 1/2 hours of classes a week, and drain my phone battery down to the sixties because I don't pay attention in lectures on subjects I’m not interested in. 

In high school I couldn’t wait for college, because I could choose my classes and the times and had the opportunity to make friends! But I realized I’m bad at making friends; I made one friend in kindergarten, when times were simpler, and all my lasting relationships (aside from my online friends, whom I treasure dearly) can be attributed to that one friendship. (I actually made a flowchart during class when another student was presenting, and I had the energy and motivation because I actually took my meds today!)

All this personal information about my Bad Times™ is to make you understand how much I needed to take my medication. But I don’t have classes everyday, so I didn’t think that taking ADHD meds everyday was worth it, and I (incorrectly) recalled that taking the depression meds didn’t help me enough to validate taking it everyday, instead only when it got really bad, but that plan didn’t work because when my depression is bad I don’t even have enough energy to text back or walk like four steps total to get my laptop, let alone walk to the bathroom and get the pills. 

So I didn’t take it, besides from when I worked my first 8-hour shifts at my first job. And those side-effects were extreme, because my body wasn’t used to these meds that were incredibly high in dosage because that’s what I need. I felt nauseous and dizzy enough to faint and went to the back room like four times an hour for a drink of water and it was still way less than I wanted. And I still didn’t learn my lesson about how the side-effects would get easier to handle if I took them more, but worse if I only took them on worst-case bases. I was thinking more in the moment about how bad I felt then, rather than about how I could feel better in the future if I pushed through.

I had a series of awful days, just last week. I cried several tears with no clear cause, only my own thoughts and boredom and depression, which means a lot in relation to me because I don’t cry. I watched Dear Evan Hansen and The Prom live, both with the original cast, and only cried a total of five tears at most, despite how these musicals and their subject matters are very dear to me. It was a bad week that came out of nowhere, nothing extraordinarily bad happened. I did the same thing as always, if not more. But still, it was a very bad week, because I was experiencing the heavy depression and it didn’t go away after I fell asleep. I don’t have classes on Wednesdays this semester; I have a lab on Mondays, and three lectures in a row on Tuesdays and Thursdays because I learned last semester that having enough leisure time to chill in my apartment for several hours between classes only makes going to the later class way more tedious. I usually get picked up by one of my parents on Thursdays while whichever of them it is drives home from work that day. That week I was lucky to have my Thursday classes cancelled, so I got picked up a day early. 

Being home is good for my health, adding it all up. It makes me a bit insecure about being independent, but fuck that I’m only 18 and I love my parents, I don’t need to be completely independent yet. Being home only improved when @pointlessoressential moved in with me; having someone so similar to me in regards of being content sitting and doing our own thing without the expectation to have something to Do™  all the time. It’s good for me, to have someone around me so I don’t get too isolated, but also not too overwhelmed. I’m usually pretty open with my mom, too, so being with her during the weekend and being able to talk with her or watch some easy TV together is good. I’ve never been very good at opening up to people; my main characterization with friends I’m not as close with is sarcasm and puns and whatever other humor to distract both of us from personal issues. I’ve been trying to get better, with help and reminders from the aforementioned bee and mom, as well as my best friend (who yes my meeting of and bonding with can indirectly be connected to that kindergarten friend, if you were wondering) who is much more skilled at telling me about her feelings than I am. But I’m trying. So I told my mom about how I had been having a bad week, once I got home.

My mom has dealt with depression her whole life, too. Most of her life she thought she also had anxiety, but when I was diagnosed with ADHD, the psychiatrist who had prescribed me the medications I take explained to both of us that ADHD in afab people (I'd say women bc my mom is cis but I'm nonbinary, so afab people) can be misdiagnosed as anxiety bc it’s different from what TV shows it to be, and the reactive anxiety (as opposed to constant, causeless anxiety from an anxiety disorder) is a symptom of ADHD. She’s dealt with the same issues all her life, so I go to her often when I hit the wall.

She told me to take the medication. I said I didn’t like the side-effects. She bought me mouthwash that helps dry mouth and a box of Rice Krispies Treats so I can eat something small but filling when I lose my appetite. She reminded me that the side-effects would improve if I took the medication more often. I am privileged in that I had the opportunity to see a doctor for my issues and be able to afford (even if barely) my medication, and I should take advantage of that instead of taking it for granted.

This is a long post, sharing my personal story about having mental illnesses, and how medication helps. It may not feel like it took effect, but then it’ll wear off and you’ll realize the difference. It’s better to feel stable, to feel “normal” for most of the day, than to get used to feeling awful. I took my medication this morning before class; I’ve taken about five hours to write this whole thing, due to having begun it before one lecture started, then continuing it during another while also listening to my professor review the first five chapters of Return of the King and discuss it with us. And now I’m in my apartment, on my laptop, switching between ending this PSA and checking on due dates and reviewing my calendar and just being 10 times more productive than I ever am.

I don’t know if anyone will need this advice. I don’t know how many will even click the read more. But this is a blog site, and this is something I’m trying to learn and have it remembered. It’s something I needed to put into words, and now it is.

[anagraves]

[28]

I was tagged by @brenli , thank you so much! I don’t think I’ve ever done anything so long on this page :D So, here we go! It will be a little messy, ‘cause I’m constantly overtired and feel slightly rusty with my English, and also withholding some facts, ‘cause I’m paranoid. Sorry. 

1. how tall are you?  158 cm, which means I’m usually the tiniest person around. I don’t mind, though. 

2. what color and style is your hair?  Natural color is pretty mousy and I hate it, so I’ve been dying my hair since junior highschool, I guess. Till last year I always dyed them claret, but last holiday I changed it to something that starts as black and finishes as plum.  I used to have them shoulder-length, but four years ago I cut them really short and since then I am a proud owner of very little hair on my head. I do envy people with long hair, but well, I know what I have now fits me better. 

3. what color are your eyes?  Green.

4. do you wear glasses? Yup, constantly since the end of elementary school. With myopia that goes to - 6 I really do not see much without my glasses. I’ve never used contacts nor do I intend to, I can’t imagine having to touch my eyeballs or anything.

5. do you wear braces? Not anymore, thankfully! But I did, for 7 years!!! I still have to wear some stuff at nights and I have one element left on my lower teeth, but that’s all. 

6. what is your fashion style? I don’t think I have one. I mean I don’t like fashion, so I just wear whatever I feel like wearing. My clothes are diverse, but they are usually dark and with something interesting on them (imprints/spikes/other metal things). I have a lot of T-shirts/sweaters with skulls and animals (especially cats and owls). I love warm sweaters, hoodies, jeans and leather jackets. I am obsessed with high heels, my favorite shoes are a black leather ones that reach well above my ankles and have like an 8-cm-long heel. I don’t own a single skirt (like... no) and I have only a few dresses which I wear only if I’m forced to (big dislike for these ones as well). I’m an all-trousers girl. I definitely prefer my style casual; when it comes to elegance I like to wear black in general - black smooth trousers and black suit. 

7. full name? Sorry, I don’t feel comfortable disclosing it online. 

8. when were you born? July 12, 1994.

9. where are you from and where do you live now? I was born in a small-ish town in southern Poland and now I still live in southern Poland, but in a much bigger town. So not much of a change, just a few hours of travel by car. 

10. what school do you go to? One Polish university, four months to go and it will be the end of any school for me! 

11. what kind of student are you? Up till university, I was an excellent student, always the best at everything. I was definitely a geek who learned too much. And I always wanted to be at the top. University changed it completely; even when I’m trying hard I’m just average. If I like a subject it shows and I’m having good grades, but generally, I’m all for passing, not excelling. I’m learning a lot and it still isn’t enough right now, which is frustrating at times, especially when I compare myself to my colleagues. On other occasions... I simply don’t care. I just want to pass.

12. do you like school? Well... It depends on the period of my life. I think I didn’t mind elementary school, I hated junior high school and liked actual high school. About university... every year is different, so there were good ones and there were bad ones. I’m not a fan of it in general, though. 

13. what are your favorite school subjects? Pre-uni: Maths and Chemistry, mostly, but Chemistry was my biggest and most unexpected love during my time at school. When it first started I had no idea what it was and I was terrified with it, plus I was behind the whole class because of some disease and I was honestly so nervous about it. Then, a month later, I kinda... fell for it and stayed infatuated with it till the end of junior high. And that’s mostly how I found myself on medical studies a few years later. My teacher from junior high was so amazing she made me love Chemistry more than anything, but sadly, my teacher from high school ruined it all. I had a great Biology teacher then, though it didn’t make me love Biology. It just enabled me to get into the uni I wanted to get to.  I almost always liked my English classes as well, because I had some really amazing teachers and I loved English. I still do, languages are amazing. 

Uni: Histology, Pharmacology, Surgery. The first two are the only ones I excelled at. Surgery - not so much, but I still did well on the final exam. 

14. favorite TV shows? It is both an easy and difficult question. Easy because I do have one TV series I consider my ultimate favorite, and it’s Angel from Buffyverse. The best thing about it is the most amazing character development I’ve ever seen, and trust me, I’m a sucker when it comes to character development. My favorite character from there is one of my ultimate faves (if not THE one) and his path is one of the most epic ever. Plus it has an amazing material for shipping and some great acting, it’s dark, depressing and hopeless, and that’s what I love. It’s also one of the few examples of TV series when I actually LIKE the main character; he’s actually one of the people I like the most. It almost never happens; usually, I’m very anti-main characters (e.g. LotR, HP).

The question gets difficult because there are also such shows as Chuck, Firefly or Code Black, amazing and mostly flawless (apart from the ending of Chuck), but are they my favorites? At times, maybe. In general... I just don’t know. Bones and Castle fought for my undivided attention for years (most of the times Bones was on the winning side) and they’re both in my top 10, though probably not top 3. Plus, there are some gems that had such amazing potential, but were cut short and had too little time to develop; apart from Firefly, it would be, e.g. Monday Mornings, Perception, Black Box.

There were also a lot of amazing TV shows I loved dearly during some of their seasons, but almost always something happened and they got ruined. PLL, TVD, Grey’s Anatomy (I feel like I’m watching it now for one pairing only), OUaT and so on. House was my first American TV series and I’ll always have a place for it in my heart. I love GoT in its very early and very late seasons, but what comes in between? Nope.  

(I watch way too much TV.) 

The honorary mentions should go to some non-American shows (honestly speaking, I’m kinda tired with the general trends of American TV at the moment). I’ve started my adventures with TV with Polish soap operas that I completely adored; when I discovered American TV I stopped watching them entirely and don’t intend to come back. I love some good English dramas, but BBC tends to get a little bit overdramatic or too dark even for me (Ripper Street ripped my heart from my chest). Speaking of ripping hearts, let’s not forget about the Japanese ones, as @brenli mentioned! They are something completely different, they have amazing plotlines and characters, and - sometimes - Hiroyuki Sanada who is just everything (and I get to analyze the shows with @brenli, which makes them even better). Koukou Kyoushi will stay with me for years to come, probably Konna Koi No Hanashi as well. Considering my current Asian phase I expect to see much more of Japanese (or maybe Korean) dramas in the future.

15. favorite movies? There are a few movies I could watch on constant repeat and they mean so much to me. Let’s categorize them in genres, shall we?  Animation: How to Train Your Dragon (especially the first part, the second one breaks my heart too much), Ice Age 3; plus the tales of my childhood I could watch five times a day - Pocahontas, Mulan, Spirit: Stallion of Cimarron. Period: Pride & Prejudice 2005. Rom-com: Holiday; Love, Actually. Adventure: Pirates of the Caribbean 1-3. Sci-fi: Matrix 1 & 3.  Plus a few honorary mentions that are equally important, but I just wouldn’t have them on constant rewatch: LotR, SW, HP, Indiana Jones (not every part for every one of these series), National Treasure. There are also a few amazing anime movies (Spirited Away, Kimi No Na Wa, Wolf Children) and among them some masterpieces I think were wonderful, but too heartbreaking to ever watch them again (Grave of the Fireflies, Princess Kaguya). 

16. favorite books? Most of my favorite books are cycles that I grew up with - LotR, HP, Inkheart Trilogy, the Vampirates series, Artemis Fowl, Jeżycjada (a Polish series about a multi-generational Polish family), Felix, Net i Nika (kinda Polish version of HP with science and technology in place of magic), some books by Ewa Nowak. Also, Pride & Prejudice. I’ve loved a lot of books since, but does any of them deserve to be called a “favorite”? I’m not so sure about it.

17. favorite pastime? Writing, from the moment I’ve learned to write (4 years old, I believe). Second best would be watching TV series; when I was younger I’d much rather like to read a book, but that kinda changed. Though, if I’m being honest, at the time being it would be watching ski jumping competitions or anything BTS-related. These past two weeks (yup, I’ve been writing this post for two weeks) has been an interesting journey of interchanging obsessions, some revisited (sj) and some I’ve never expected to develop (BTS).

18. do you have any regrets? Sure, who doesn’t? I’m trying to live by the rule “regret doing something rather than not doing it”, but well, it can’t always work. 

19. dream job? A writer, for sure, always and forever. That is the one thing that has been with me my whole life. Apart from that? Well... Some time after I started my studies I developed a strong dream of becoming a neurosurgeon one day, but this dream faltered this year and now I’m not so sure anymore. Now I feel like I made a completely wrong career choice those few years ago. 

20. would you like to get married someday? Marriage has never been one of my dreams or something I HAVE to do in the future, but I definitely want to have someone by my side, and if they want to get married, then sure, we can do that. Not necessarily though. 

21. would you like to have kids someday? No, no and once again no, and there are so many reasons! First, I do know my body would not be physiologically okay with pregnancy (and after studying Gynaecology I do believe pregnancy is one of the worst things - if not THE worst - that could ever happen to one’s body) and I have no intention of doing such a thing to myself. Second, children scare me; my whole life I’ve been doing my best to keep my distance and avoid contact at any cost (which kinda worked as far, I’ve never even held a baby). Third, I have no maternal instinct and I do know I would be a terrible mother, so what’s the point? 

23. do you like shopping? No. Since I was a child, when my parents took me shopping I always had a book with me and just followed them around while reading (somehow I managed not to collide with anything throughout all these years :P). I still do the same thing if someone makes me go with them to the mall, only now it’s more often my phone, not a book. I love buying books, though. I used to go to the bookshops and buy five books at a time. I don’t do that right now, because a) money b) I have tons of unread books already, but I could still go there and spend hours just looking at the books and reading their covers. 

24. what countries have you visited? Only one, and I’m not even sure it should count. I’ve been to Slovakia twice, but both times only like 50km from the border, and I’ve spent there max few hours. So... it definitely wasn’t even remotely close to this “going abroad” I’ve been always dreaming about... 

25. what’s the scariest nightmare you’ve ever had? Hmm... There was one in my adult life that left me absolutely terrified; I remember waking up and feeling paralyzed with fear. I had a feeling someone was standing in the doorway, but I was too scared to turn around and see, so I was just lying there with my eyes wide open, waiting until the fear passes or something else happens... What was the dream about? I only remember it took place in some fancy mansion near the beach that was either mine or one of my friends’. I think it wasn’t actually a nightmare until the very end when something bad was about to happen to someone who was standing in the living room. The other person was creeping in the dark or something like that, and the character in the dream had the same kind of fear I woke up with. I didn’t actually want to remember more details. 

26. do you have any enemies? I did have some, on every stage of my education, but they are no longer in my life. Nowadays I think I’m too irrelevant to be anyone’s enemy. There are some people with whom I share a mutual dislike, but “enemies” is probably too strong of a word in these cases. 

27. do you have an s/o? Nope. Never had. 

28. do you believe in miracles? Well... not really. I believe in luck and destiny, but miracles? I definitely don’t believe in them in any religious context (I’m completely anti-religion). When it comes to some other kinds of miracles, like medical ones - I know things happen, wonderful things that have no logical explanation, but I do believe that deep down, even though we don’t know it, they have some logical explanation. We just can’t see it. 

Finished! Finally! :D Hopefully it isn’t too chaotic, I don’t really have time to reread it and check for mistakes, Family Medicine is waiting to devour me... 

I’m tagging: @frombothofmyhearts @thesilverrqueen @mis4nthropy and anyone who wants to do it! Just be warned - it takes a lot of time to answer all of the questions :P 

[peachjjam]

So, I wanted to make a blog post detailing the different strategies I used to review for the LET, an exam I passed last May. For non-ph people, the LET (Licensure Exam for Teachers) is an exam a teacher needs to pass to get his/her license and register as a professional in their country. Passing the exam was one thing, but registering is a whole other journey.

Okay, so first thing’s first, I know that people would want to know how long it takes to review for a certain test--oh, and not just ANY certain test, but a freaking board exam. If you’re a teacher who’s about to take the test in September (as the test only happens twice a year, March and September), don’t worry! I’ll give you all the details down here.

It took me 1 month to review for this test. I applied for the test on February 24, and took the test on March 25(?), so it was basically the day after I applied for this exam, I started gathering my review materials. And look, if you have any doubts, now’s the time to cast it out. I reviewed for 4 weeks and passed the exam; you can too. With these tips, and some diligence, I think you’ll be set!

Now onto how I sectioned the concepts I needed to review in a week. Generally, in one week, since there are a lot of concepts to cover, I would do 2-3 subjects a day. So my week typically went like this:

Monday: English and Filipino

Tuesday: Math and Natural Science

Wednesday: Social Science and FACLERN & CHDODEV (Facilitating Learning and Child Adolescent Development)

Thursday: Teaching Profession and Curriculum Development

Friday: PTEACH and EDTECH (Principles of Teaching and Educational Technology)

Saturday: ASESLE and SOCIEDU (Assessment of Learning and Social Dimensions of Education)

And, for example, if on Monday I had to do English and Filipino, that meant that I had to take a pre-test for both subjects, write down the concepts/info I got wrong on the test, review them, and then take a post-test. I did that for every single subject, and yes it’s possible, as I was able to review for my Ateneo law exam (which was on March 24) AND work as a part-time teacher at the same time. 

I reviewed every morning before work, and every afternoon after work. 

It’s possible, but definitely not easy. It was one of the most stressful times of my life, but that was when I started to get back into bullet journaling, so I guess it was also one of the best weeks of my life. 

Okay! So to the exciting part of this post. What were the materials I used to review? If anyone’s curious, no I didn’t apply in a LET review class because it was too late for the likes of me; I only had 1 month, and I’d rather start cracking open my books than to waste my time finding a review centre that would accept me. Below are the actual materials that I used!

National Book Store LET Books

You heard me right. I didn’t have to gather a ton of review books, I just really needed two of them. The titles were, Comprehensive LET Reviewer Based on NCBTS and Table of Specifications General Education by LORIMAR Publishing, & the Reviewer for the Licensure Examination for Teachers (LET) 6th Edition by Cecilio D. Duka

You can find them I think in any NBS store in the Philippines! I got mine in Festival Mall Alabang, and they were pretty cheap! I think they were around P750 all in all. 

So, how did I use these books? Well let me tell what I didn’t use in these books. The information.

Yep, all the facts in English, the formulas in Math, the long paragraphs in Social Studies... I didn’t even bother to take a second look at them the first time I cracked open the reviewers. The very first thing I did with each of these reviewers was to rip out the answers page and go straight to the provided test. I took the test with just my stock knowledge (info I already had in my brain before reviewing) and write down my score in each test (English, Filipino, Math, Science, Social Sciences, ICT, and the professional education subjects). I did these for three reasons:

1. I know my base knowledge on these subjects.

2. I can compare my pre-test score to my post-test score.

3. I can see if I’m improving.

It’s very important to take a pre-test and a post-test when reviewing because then you’ll actually know if you’re improving! Don’t worry about the score you get in your pre-test/diagnostic exam--either way, unless you’re a genius, it’s going to be a low score. Don’t let that define you. Use that score, and the questions you’ve answered wrong, as a baseline as to where you should start. This is a great strategy because you’re tackling your weaknesses at the get-go. 

For example, you did the General Education pre-test and found out that you scored lower in Math and Science compared to the other GenEd subjects; you immediately then make those two subjects your top priority of studying before you tackle the subjects you’re already competent in. It’s a sure-fire way to know where you stand, and what you need to do to get a higher score. 

Loose Leaf Paper 

I didn’t use some special, pricey Moleskine notebook. And the reason why is because my goal wasn’t to write down everything I needed to learn and then take the test. It was sort of the other way around. I used yellow pad as an avenue to write my answers to the test provided by the books, and whichever question I got wrong, I would mark it down at the bottom of my yellow pad so I know which concepts I need to revisit. I then take another sheet of yellow pad and write all the info about the question I got wrong the first time so that the second time, I would know what the right answer is. Plain and simple.

Pens

The pens I used were the Muji 0.38 Black Gel pen and some Zebra Mildliner Highlighters. I would like to stress again though that I mostly used my black pen because all I did was answer test after test after test. I didn’t go the info-heavy route, because that would be a waste of my time. 

So on the day of my exam, I brought all the necessary stuff I needed. My documents, my wallet, my phone, earphones, food, pencils, pens, calculator, etc. 

Fun fact: I was sick for the first time in months on the day of my board exam which I had to wake up at 3am for as the venue of my exam was like on the opposite of the archipelago. 

So I also had to bring tissue or else I would’ve been too distracted and frustrated to focus. I made sure to stop reviewing though the day before my exam, so on the actual date of the LET, I wasn’t trying to rush and store some vague info about mathematical formulas because I knew I had to trust that I did my best the past 4 weeks, and rush reviewing wouldn’t do me any good anyway--it would just give me anxiety. 

The exam, I believe, would run for 4-5 hours? But I got out an hour or two earlier as I finished the exam early. The content of the exam wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be, especially the Math portion, BUT I was surprised at the level of difficulty of the Science section, so I guess that balances out. 

So a couple of productivity tips:

try to bring your reviewer notes everywhere! i found this helpful because whenever i would be standing in line, waiting for something or someone, i would whip out my reviewer and try to read leisurely the information i wrote down for myself. the word here is leisurely. you don’t want to overwhelm yourself for nothing.

start bright and early! if you’re not a morning person, i think now’s the perfect time to start. if you wake up early, you can get more down quickly, therefore having less work to do in the evening when you have to wind down.

bring a bottle of water and snacks while reviewing! you’ll be using a lot of brain power, so you need to stay hydrated and full! i suggest also have iced coffee on hand if you can, as it would wake you up and give you that energy boost you need to tackle your tests.

time yourself--or don’t. it’s really up to you! i didn’t time myself as I would feel too pressured and not perform well. i just made sure to take a lot of tests so that my test-taking time perspective would slowly get used to taking tests faster and more efficiently each time. 

get encouragement from your fellow exam takers! you can find them on fb groups if that’s what you prefer; be careful though, don’t use fb as often as you’d want to when reviewing. the goal here is to be motivated and inspired, not to stay idle. 

try to review in bursts. meaning, section your review realistically with the time you have. the goal here isn’t to overwhelm, but to make most of the time you have. personally, i would do the harder subject in the morning, then the easier one in the afternoon. it would usually take me 1-2 hours for each subject. 

review in different places. if you feel lethargic reviewing in your bedroom, that’s normal! your bedroom is supposed to be a place of relaxation, not your review workshop. Try working in different areas of your house, in a coffee shop, in your car even. I used to go to Starbucks every morning when it opens to get the best seat so that I could actually look forward to the review. 

take breaks. i know. the exam’s is in 4 weeks, and you’ve got a ton of areas to cover in terms of concepts. but brute forcing your way into trying to learn every single thing about every single subject in a week wouldn’t do you any good--you, just like any other human being, are prone to burn out, and at such a crucial time, being burnt out is the last problem you need. so take breaks. take as long as you need to. i can’t tell you an exact time for how long you need a break because everyone’s different, but take a long enough break that you don’t hate yourself that much for going back to reviewing. 

handwritten? digital? up to you. use whichever medium works! i personally took the test in handwritten format so that I would get used to answering on a sheet of paper, which I would have to do on the day of my exam.

and lastly, trust the process. you can review for 24 hours everyday, buy all the highlighters and pens you need, all the notebooks to put information in, all the iced coffee in the world, but the ultimate outcome of the test isn’t in your hands. so trust me when I say to not only trust the process, but have the process be the only thing to focus on. don’t focus on the idea of passing the LET; that’s something out of your control. they could make a mistake with your name, they could’ve lost your answer sheet, they could’ve rejected your application altogether--all that are useless worries. focus on getting better everyday. focus on scoring higher and higher in each test you let yourself take. trust that you’re doing your best, and accept whatever the outcome is. 

I think that’s all! So those are my tips in passing the LET. These tips are also applicable to anyone who has an up and coming exam! Good luck!