#maybe i should just have just started working at a lab when i graduated. just be a lab manager for thr rest of my life

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[eaglyn]

Mr. Crazy and Mrs. Crazier | Dottore x reader smut

Warning: gore, human experimentation, dismantling of a human heart, psychopathic behavior Not proofread

You were just about the perfect being that he could imagine. In his eyes, you were smart, entertaining and downright gorgeous. Normally, Dottore wouldn't think such things about anything he didn't create himself, but you? You were different. You were perfect.

You were a very successful graduate of the Sumeru Akademiya's Amurta Darshan, some even say that you're the most promising student the Amurta Darshan's ever had. That was arguable. On the other hand, it was an unarguable truth that you were insane. You had about as much regard for human life as Dottore, or maybe even less. They tried to change you for some time, after all your knowledge and talent was definitely in the wrong hands considering your usual projects, which more often than not included human experimentation.

Obviously, they failed. When Dottore joined the Akademiya, he heard news of you, and he was intrigued. He searched for you day and night, week after week until you finally decided to see what his deal was, and once you saw his... creative potential, to speak lightly, you decided to teach him all sort of messed up tips and tricks, from the easiest way to disassemble a human body to reconstructing a human body with mechanical parts.

And that should give anyone the understanding of why and how Dottore was kicked from the Akademiya. When they learned of your cooperation with him, they were all but thrilled. In fact, they were mortified.

Dottore and yourself turned into a wicked pair, eventually ending up serving the Tsaritsa, but while he became a Fatui Harbinger, you just remained in the shadows, but eventually earning the rank number 2.5, as you and him practically came as a package deal. You continued working together for centuries.

Unlike you, he had to resort do different means of achieving a long lifespan, but you were always by his side to give him new ideas and help him out with whatever he needed. As such, you went from his mentor to his lab assistant who would sit atop a countertop in his laboratory and entertain him.

Fatui agents would often hear howling laughter coming up from the lab as you two were working on a new project, and could only imagine which part of cutting young humans up was it that entertained the two of you so much.

In reality, you could turn anything into entertainment.

"Why are you holding the scalpel like that? It looks like you're trying to use it as a chopstick." You raised your eyebrows at one of his most recent techniques.

"Criticize all you want, princess, but it's easier from me to cut at this angle. See?" He maneuvered around the current test subject's ribs, attempting to cut her heart out, having a prototype machine in hand.

"Or you could've just removed the ribs? Why are you so afraid to put the device down, it's not like we didn't sanitize everything a few minutes before starting this experiment." You rolled your eyes.

"But we always take the ribs out, and putting them back is such a pain."

"For you. I thought I gave you a detailed demonstration on how to reattach nerves properly. Also, how do you want to take out the heart with everything still in the way?" You crossed your legs, feeling that you've won the debate.

"By taking it apart, of course. The machine is also attached piece by piece, so the lack of open space won't be a hindrance." He grinned back at you.

"Excuses, excuses." With that, you went back to constructing some random trinket out of spare parts.

After a while, he finally managed to remove the heart, taking all the bits in his hand and raising them in the air victoriously.

"AHA! I've succeeded- oh shit..." He dropped one of them onto the floor. He placed the prototype heart down onto a sterile field, along with the scalpel before walking over to you. "Here, I shall give you my heart." With that, he dropped the dismantled pieces onto your lap, staining your pants with blood.

"Ew, you ruined my pants!" You grabbed a few pieces and launched them at his face as a payback.

"How dare you? I give you my heart and you just throw it away? Why so cruel, Y/n?" Both of you break out laughing like maniacs as you continue throwing bits of the test subject's heart at each other.

"Alright, alright, let's compose ourselves now." You said, gathering the bits before throwing them into a jar.

Dottore installs the prosthetic heart and sews the person back up, and after he was done with that, the two of you transported her to a cell.

"Now we just wait to see if the transplant was successful." You hummed in response, glancing down at your bloodstained pants again.

"Oh come on, those are just pants, Y/n." The blue haired man said with his arms crossed over his chest.

"But I liked these pants." You pouted. They were white shorts tailor made for you, and you knew that you'd never be able to get the blood out of the expensive material.

"Well I prefer you without pants, you don't see me complaining." He stepped closer to you, settling himself between your legs as you sat on the countertop. "And without a shirt too."

You grinned, leaning in to kiss him, and he eagerly kissed back, while his hands were already creeping up on your torso underneath your shirt.

"In that case, remove them, Doc." And he just did that. He grabbed the hem of your shirt and lifted it over your head, attaching his lips to your neck while you pulled your arms out of the shirt, tossing it onto the ground.

You moaned softly as he continued sucking hickeys onto your soft skin, working on removing the belt from around your waist. When that was done, he pulled your pants down, tossing them onto the floor before going for your neck again, meanwhile his hand pulled your panties aside and he started rubbing your clit with two fingers. You threw your head back, moaning when you started feeling a knot forming in your stomach, but then he pulled his hand away.

"Oh come on." You said, scrunching up your eyebrows.

"It's not fair if you get all the fun and I don't get any." He said before stripping himself of his clothes and going back to you. He unclipped your bra, pulling it off of your body and tossing it away before hooking his finger around your panties and ripping them off.

He took a breast in his hand while using the other to rub the tip of his cock over your clit, lubricating it in the process.

"Please just put it in." You whined.

"As you wish, princess." With that, he shoved his cock into your entrance. No matter how many times you've done this, the first few seconds always hurt. His cock was big by all definition, almost too big. The length couldn't even fit all the way in, while the girth was so thick that you felt like your walls were being thorn apart each time. He slowly pulled out before going back in, letting you adjust a little before he started thrusting at a steady pace.

You hummed in pleasure, feeling his veins graze against your walls, and it was like a little spark ignited inside your stomach every time his tip kissed your cervix. He continued thrusting steadily until he started to see signs of impatience on your face. Then he decided to speed up, kissing you hungrily before doing so.

He shoved his tongue into your mouth as he was thrusting inside you, squeezing your breast once in a while as well. You were a moaning mess, gripping his muscular back with your hands.

The way he felt inside you was intoxicating. You were addicted to him. Only he could make you unfold this way. The way he kissed you with such lust and hunger, and he knew all your most sensitive spots. He knew just how to reach that sweet spot that made you scream out loud in pleasure each time, and when he'd do that, he'd speed up and start thrusting into you at an inhuman speed right afterwards. You felt like your insides were being rearranged, while he just grunted into your ear, telling you how nice and tight you were, just for him.

After all, nobody has seen you like this. Not for a very long time, at least. And you were only the happier to know that you were the only one that he fucked like this, and the only one that he'd keep in his lap, cockwarming him as he did paperwork or some other task that would be way too boring other wise.

And just as always, now too he managed to time his release to yours, and he moaned out loud as your walls clenched around them while he shot his cum deep into you.

But he didn't stop after that, he never does. He waits until you get down from your high before thrusting into your overstimulated pussy for three more rounds, until there is cum dripping down from the edge of the countertop and both of you are completely exhausted.

Dottore then grabs you by your thighs, his cock still buried deep inside you, and he sits down on a sofa, where you both take a nap.

At times like this, it's not only the psychopathic hollering of two maniacs that the Fatui Agents hear, but also the way that he makes you completely lose your mind in pleasure.

[teal-fiend]

College student pred

Usually as I’ve seen it’s been the other way around. And i get it, the unfair power dynamic is fetishised. But i find the inverse of this trope more compelling

Hungry college aged kid, living off of microwaved meals, ramen soup, coffee, red bull, cigarettes and left over beer

Underfed, sleep deprived, hung over, everything unhealthy you can imagine. They can’t remember the last time that they had a proper meal

They could go for one of their fellow students, but they have to remind themselves that these people are their future colleagues - their network. So it might put a strain on their future workplace relationships if they start picking them off now. The lecturer, however

And It’s embarrassing, feeding one of your own students. Not even becoming prey to someone of your own generation. It’s almost a waste; the professor is an expert, a doctor, a renowned professional in their field, and they become fuel for someone who has so little experience it’s not even fair to compare them. It’s a waste of knowledge, just for one meal that won’t even keep the pred fed for that long. 

But a student does have to eat. And when they’re done, they’ll go right back to studying. There’s no time for them to waste enjoying the sensation of digestion. They have work to do, tutorials and labs to attend, as to not scuff their record or fall behind. Their stomach will still work even if they’re not resting like maybe they should be

Although it would cause a bit of a cock up when the university has to find a replacement for the course the prey was teaching. I guess the solution would be to hunt a professor who doesn’t teach any of your subjects, to shirk the problem onto somebody else

In the future, if the student does actually manage to graduate and get a job in the field, they can look back and mentally thank all their favourite lecturers who kept them fed while they studied. They wouldn’t have gotten here without them

[blood-darkened-moon]

Isolation

Ok, the first chapter of my Alexia Ashford fic. Again, I would appreciate short reviews on whether it is worth continuing or not. I'm not mad if you say it sucks. I just want an honest opinion.

_________________________________________________

Chapter 1

December 12

What do you actually write in a diary? I guess I just write whatever comes into my mind.

My name is Samantha Blair, and I’ve been stationed at the Aurora Research Facility for about a month now. This place will be my home for roughly the next 11 months. I graduated two years ago with a PhD in chemistry. This is my new job. It wasn’t easy to get it. After all, there are only a few positions available in this facility. There are 12 of us in total, and my job is to analyze ice and soil samples. It’s summer here at the moment. The sun doesn’t set this close to the South Pole any more, and at night it only gets a bit dusky, which, admittedly, bothers me more than I thought it would. Doug* gave me this journal “so I won’t lose track of time.” I wonder if that will help. At least I can try.

*Douglas Garry, station leader

December 13

Nothing interesting. After breakfast, I set about sorting the samples from the last research team and finding out which of them still needed to be analyzed and which didn’t. So the same thing I’ve been doing for over a week now. What were they thinking? “We’ll be gone soon anyway, let the next team take care of it?” After me, the deluge. Typical. Half of the samples are not properly labeled, and even for those that are, it takes forever to find out what has already been done with them. It’s all in the lab books, my ass. I can hardly do anything with the cryptic notes there if I manage to decipher the handwriting at all. On top of that, I have to pick the measurement data out of disorganized piles of paper. It was all planned differently. They were actually supposed to measure their own stuff, but towards the end of their stay, one device after another broke down. The devices are working again. Now, we’re supposed to carry out these measurements first and send them the results.

December 14

Sorting samples, searching for corresponding measurement data. Nothing new. Jeff gave me a new drill core. At least I was able to take a few measurements today.

*Jeffrey Norris, geologist

December 15

As I was going about my usual business, John* arrived and said that we were going to be hit by a heavy snowstorm in the next few days. According to the weather data, the storm will last for several days, maybe even weeks. We have to prepare the station. So we spent the whole day outside moving equipment into storage rooms or fixating it. I’m still freezing.

*John Bennings, meteorologist

December 16

Dark clouds have gathered. After so many days of sunshine, the darkness, if you can call it that, is a welcome change.

December 17

It’s been snowing since last night, and the snowfall is getting heavier, although it will be another 2-3 days before it really starts. David* expressed concerns about the dogs, but Marcus** said they don’t mind the little bit of snow. Quite the opposite. Huskies love this weather. Marcus looks after the dogs. He will know best. When I think about it, it occurs to me that we are probably one of the only stations left that still uses dog sleds. We also have snowmobiles, but Marcus always says the dogs are more reliable.

Later, we decided who should clear the paths and when. The work should continue if possible. However, if the storm gets too bad, the research buildings will remain closed until it subsides.

*David Palmer, technical chief

**Marcus Clark, responsible for the dogs, thermal engineering, welding work

December 18

The howling of the wind gets stronger and stronger. Eerie. I have hardly slept a wink. At least I’m slowly making progress with the samples.

December 19

I spent half the day clearing paths. It is a Sisyphean task. As soon as I was finished, I had to start all over because everything was covered in snow again. And the worst is yet to come. If it goes on like this, I can forget about work for a while.

December 20

Jeff was on clearing duty today. He also said there was no point. After dinner, we agreed that we would only clear the paths to the important buildings, everything else would have to wait until the storm subsided. At least the dogs are having fun. And Lena. She built a giant snowman. Lena Fuchs is still a student and the youngest of our team, and you can tell. When I see her so carefree, I sometimes think I’m getting old...

The fact that Lena is here is not a matter of course. Normally, students are not accepted for research stays. However, Lena has excellent grades, so she was selected regardless of the usual rules. At least, that’s the official reason. For those who believe it. Her father just happens to have a lot of political influence and a ton of money. It would be a true miracle if he hadn’t set the whole thing up.

She’s supposed to help me with the measurements, but that will have to wait until the samples are sorted and the storm calmed down. In the first few weeks, however, I had already shown her how to operate the measurement devices. To pass the time, I’ve now given her a pile of papers to read.

December 21

We have a visitor. The last thing you expect at the South Pole in the middle of a snowstorm is a visitor. Her name is Veronica Edwards. She is British and works at the Umbrella facility nearby. She says she is a senior researcher. There’s been a virus outbreak. She hasn’t said what kind of virus it is, only that it’s not airborne and that the likelihood of her being infected is low. In general, she kept a rather low profile. However, she said that under the circumstances she cannot stay in the Umbrella facility. If she is infected with something, we can’t let her roam around freely, but not helping her is not an option either, so we put her in quarantine. Actually, that was her suggestion. Isaac* has prepared a room in the northeast storage building for the purpose. She waited in the snowmobile she came in. The building is quite large, and it also has a shower room and restrooms. Additionally, the supply in the northeastern storage building is largely separated from the other buildings, and we can lock an area from the outside. That could work. It was supposed to be modified into another research building this summer, but the modification has been postponed for another year or so. However, it has already been largely emptied. She said two weeks of quarantine would be enough. For the time being, only Isaac and Harry** will look after her. Isaac is our doctor. Harry has volunteered. They will stay away from the rest of us to minimize the risk of a virus outbreak during that time. In case of an emergency, they have walkie-talkies.

We have offered to contact Umbrella and tell them what happened, but Dr. Edwards said she had done that before she left the Umbrella facility. They’ll send people as soon as the storm subsides. If they’re taking so long, that must mean it’s not that bad, right? Or that it’s already too late, and there’s nothing they can do anyway. Shit. We’re not prepared for incidents like this.

* Dr. Isaac Copper physician, and by necessity veterinarian

** Harold Childs vehicle mechanic

December 21 Addendum I

I have to distract myself from the thought that the woman might have infected us all with some deadly virus. And I forgot to write that our new arrival is rather strange. She was at least wearing a jacket, but underneath, she had only put on a long purple dress, high-heeled shoes, and white velvet gloves. The clothes looked anything but cheap. She looked more like she wanted to go to a gala than work in a research laboratory. Who walks around like that in Antarctica? Well, maybe she wasn’t on duty when the outbreak happened. That would also explain why she managed to escape and, according to her own statement, is probably not infected. But even as casual wear, her outfit looks pretty bizarre in a place like this.

She had to wait quite a long time in the snowmobile until the provisional quarantine was ready. Wasn’t she cold in her thin clothes? She didn’t complain. And I couldn’t see any signs that she was freezing either. Admittedly, I kept a safe distance. Speaking of snowmobiles, judging by the tracks, she was driving as if she was drunk and almost crashed into one of the buildings. Can she just not drive, or are these signs that she’s not feeling well? A fever, perhaps?

Also, I remembered Doug mentioning in the first or second week that Umbrella isn’t even doing research at the facility anymore. It’s supposed to be a materials storage facility or something like that. Well, Dr. Edwards claims she is a researcher there. I’ll ask Doug about the facility again when I get a chance.

December 21 Addendum II

Nicky*** wanted to contact AAD and ask how we should proceed with Dr. Edwards. However, due to the storm, there is currently no way through with our communication system. Always at the best possible time, of course! At least it’s not broken. Nicky has checked it. In a few days, the storm should ease a little, although not stop. She’ll try again then. Until then, we’re on our own. As old as the communication system is, I’m not surprised that it doesn’t work currently. It probably dates back to when the station was founded in the 70s.

***Nicole Windows, telecommunications, electronics, computers

AAD = Australian Antarctic Division

[tanoraqui]

marriage of convenience + gothic for el/orion, please!

[give me 1-3 tropes + 2-3 characters!]

(the gothicness comes from the whole environment of the school ok)

War came to the Scholomance the year Galadriel Higgins and Orion Lake were Inducted. Oh, it took a while to warm up—everyone had to get settled into their torments of classwork and survival. But there were two new monsters in the school, each worse than Patience and Fortitude combined, from diametrically opposed worlds with diametrically opposed destinies. War was inevitable.

By their junior year, the bloody conflict had settled, and the battlegrounds mostly returned to neutral territory. The defensive spell that blocked all but Enclavers from entering the alchemy lab was fully taken down, the petrification traps that activated only against Enclavers were removed from the library stacks. All cafeteria doors were left unguarded except, of course, against maleficaria.

There were so many maleficaria, and they were so hungry. Despite the active war broken out between the haves and the have-nots, between Orion Lake’s ceaseless heroism and El Higgins’ savage determination to look after every person who turned to the Dark Queen for protection, more students were still alive than in any year on record, in every class.

They didn’t have mana or even malia to waste blockading each other from classrooms, study materials and food anymore.

So the righteous, noble students of the Enclaves, led by their silver-haired hero with his shining sword (wrong, he was so wrong inside, twisted and hungry; couldn’t they see past their own greed) and the stubborn, righteous students of the exiles, led by their destined destroyer of worlds (who never once cheated for power, not once; all the great and terrible spells she cast to keep them safe were with power given freely)—briefly, for the first time, they not just called a truce but actually allied, to fix the mechanism, burn the school, and set the graduating class free.

The next year started… Well. They had energy to spare again. But they’d worked together. (Orion had saved dozens of her people, maybe hundreds by now, just as easily as he saved his own, and never demanded anything for it. El’s mother’s message scrolled before her eyes, but she wondered…) (El was so rude to him, all the time. When he’d saved her life, when he’d tried to kill her once or twice—she was never scared, she was never admiring, she was just rude. Like people were rude to…other people. Never to Orion, before.)

Magnus said they should attack while the witch-queen was recovering from the battle in the graduation hall and busy trying to recruit as many freshmen as possible. Liu grimaced and said they should attack while the Enclavers were recovering from the battle in the graduation hall and settling in their excess number of freshmen (the graduating seniors has told their parents what was happening in the school, and some had reacted fast enough to cut local non-Enclavers from Induction.)

Liesel said, “El, if you really don’t want this conflict to spill over into the rest of the world, we have to stop it in here, decisively. You’ve heard what the freshmen are saying—Shanghai is halfway to co-opting the movement, if they don’t flip and side with the Western enclaves instead. An unknown malificer destroyed Bangkok, and people are dying in the hunt for them… The second you and Orion graduate, it’s going to be war out there, one way or another.”

“What do you suggest?” El snapped. “Other than killing him. I’m not killing him, I’m not killing anyone.”

“I know you’re not,” Liesel said, which what she, personally, felt was infinite patience. “I think you and Lake should get publicly married—or, technically, engaged, since as far as I’m aware, nobody in here is an accredited justice of the peace.”

[sanddusted-wisteria]

I have a crack theory that has absolutely no bearing on the story whatsoever: Qi never got his doctorate/PhD.

[Put the rest under a read more in case you don’t want to read like 3 pages of straight up speculation over nothing holy shit]

(to preface, getting a PhD is basically what separates a student and a professional researcher in academia. You most likely can’t be a professor without one, and research jobs in non-academic labs aren't likely to take you either. Getting a PhD also earns you the title of "Dr.", same as an MD.)

Even though Qi is referred to as “Dr. Qi” by several people, when he’s actually called that in his earshot, he insists on being called “Director”.

The way Qi speaks is very “technically correct” and literal, according to one of the writers.

[taken from an Ask the Dev segment on the Pathea discord.]

So maybe he insists on being called “Director” because it’s technically the only title he actually holds. Your college professors have doctorates, but you can probably call them “Professor” or “Doctor” interchangeably and it’ll still be okay with them. So why doesn’t Qi also operate like that?

PhDs also typically take 5 years to complete (and that’s assuming nothing goes wrong…). You’ll probably be in your late 20s by the time you’re done. But…how old is Qi? He hasn’t been assigned a canon age yet, but we can make a few guesses.

There’s a photo of his family in his room that is dated from year 80. MTaS starts at year 98 (or 97, I have to check). Considering that adult Qi is about 5’11”/180 cm, he’s definitely younger than a teenager in this pic when we see his relative height here. I say he looks around 8-10? That means that by the start of MTaS, he’s around 26-28. It should be around this time that he finishes his doctorate and has a successful dissertation defense. But he’s in Sandrock… There’s also this line from one of the main missions (no spoilers) that implies that Qi’s been in Sandrock for around 7 years. So he potentially left Vega 5 and came to Sandrock when he was in his early 20s.

But when did he graduate, then? It’s a bit more possible that he got his Bachelor's degree super early. Maybe he skipped a few grades, maybe he sigma grindsetted his degree plan. With the more course-based and structured nature of Bachelor’s programs, it probably would’ve been easier to speedrun. A big research effort like a dissertation takes more time to properly do and can't really be sped up that much, since it's intended to be a culmination of all the knowledge you've gained on a particular subject.

But then what happened after that?? He started work on his PhD, but then…his dissertation work got stolen. In The Assistant, Qi says at some point while he was at uni, his work was stolen.

He doesn’t specify what it was, but it was bad enough that he refused to work directly with anyone else since. Losing your dissertation is…bad, to say the least. It could’ve been stolen, you’ve might’ve lost it, or someone else just happened to do the same thing you were doing and publish it first. Whatever the case, if that happens, at worst, you need to start from square one. Years of work, straight into the garbage. It’s also a matter of money, too. Do you have enough to pull you through a couple extra years of tuition? Can you renew your assistantship? Considering his parents are humble fishermen, Qi probably couldn't secure the funds to keep going. So he threw up his hands and quit school, and tried to find research work on his own merit. Without a doctorate, though, he probably was only able to take low-rank or assistant jobs. Instead of being assessed on his talents as is, his lack of a title barred him from making any advancements. So he left. It would explain this line, where he talks about leaving Vega 5 due to “bureaucratic pedantry”:

Qi’s the only researcher in Sandrock, and is therefore Director by default. He might be in Sandrock to find the Olympia, but is he also there because that’s the only place he has any authority? Is Sandrock the only place where people will take him seriously? Is he clinging to that? Is that why he insists on people calling him Director…?

…Well now I’m sad. I’ll end this on a higher note with an even crackier theory: Merlin from MTaP was the one who stole his work. There is absolutely NO evidence for this, I just think it’d be funny.

Merlin was “the most promising apprentice” at Vega 5, but was kicked out for performing an experiment so egregious that even Vega 5 wanted nothing to do with her. What if she had a rivalry going with Qi while they were in school, and it culminated in her stealing his research? Whatever the hell Qi was planning to do was so off the cuff that she took the fall for him when she actually did it. And Qi was planning on leaving Vega 5 anyway, so he’d be free to continue his mad scientist shit elsewhere. Alternatively, Merlin stole his work, he saw that she got kicked out, and he decided to skedaddle knowing that he’d probably be next if he kept going.

okay that's enough spitballing thank u for coming to my ted talk

[cherrys-writings]

Cat-astrophy

Summary: Grayson is on damage control, Jameson is drunk, and OC just wants people to stop making innuendos Word count: 1060 Warnings: Mentions of underage drinking

Deciding what to make for the household of a deceased billionaire was proving more difficult than I originally thought. Aside from the immediate family and the Laughlis, there’s the security team and the small army of workers. I wait for the shower to warm, maybe I should have something sent to them instead. Letting the hot water ease the tightness of my neck, I try to put the worries out of my mind.

I wish I didn’t know what Nash had been implying when he said he’s had, “good friends,” too. It’s possible Grayson and I had been thinking of something along those lines at one point or another. I stepped out of the shower, wrapping myself in a towel as I walked across the heated tile and into my bedroom. It’s possible we had been thinking about it at the same time. If Grayson wanted a friends with benefits arrangement he would have brought it up. Right? He has a way of being direct, yet discreet. But, all this would have been before Emily. 

Why am I even thinking about this? Grayson’s grandfather just died. As I pull on my clothes for the day, my mind wanders to the casual contact that has been ever present between us: leaning against each other, heads bowed over shared work, knees touching under tables, idly messing with each other’s hair, and accidentally falling asleep together on occasion. I need to clear my head of this nonsense before class this afternoon. I brush out the tangled mess and set up my study area. There have been times lately where I’ve started to question whether we are genuinely platonic. He’s started whispering in my ear even when we’re alone, guiding my attention away from what’s in front of me and back to him with a gentle hand, and forehead kisses after every embrace no matter where we are. 

I manage to push those thoughts out of my mind for now, settling into my chair and logging onto the college’s portal. Technically I’m a commuter student, but most lectures are conducted remotely and time on campus is saved for lab work. My phone goes off before I can open the class link.

Gray: Jameson is drunk AF, Nash is with Skye who won’t leave her rooms, and I assume Xander went to school because no one has seen him. 

Me: Be patient. Don’t kill Jamie.

Gray: He and I aren’t speaking at the moment.

I have to call the lawyers and begin funeral arrangements. You have class soon.

Me: If you need to vent that’s fine. I know my professor will understand and even if they don’t the webcam only sees a portion of things.

Gray: Do not rearrange your priorities. This is my responsibility and I can handle it. 

I see no point in arguing and let the conversation die for now. I’ll check on him and his family after class.

********************************************************************************

Barely an hour into class, messages started flooding my phone. I assume a statement was released. Grayson wasn’t kidding about handling things as quickly as possible.

Olive: Make sure you’re available to comfort Grayson *whink* *wink*

It’s obvious you want each other. Tobias Hawthorne probably died to give you two a little nudge

Me: You’re a terrible person

Olive: I don’t hear you denying grief hook-ups

  I exhale forcefully, hoping that I look focused on taking notes and not frustrated that she is the second person today to suggest such a thing.

Me: We are literally in class rn can’t this wait??

“Mx. Davis, you look like you have something to share,” Dr. Richards clearly noticed my frustration, “Given your recent, personal introduction to grieving you must have some insights into the stages.”

Of course everyone had to say where they had graduated from on the first day of class. Of course I, wrongly, assumed no one would care. Of course when Olive asked about grief hook-ups my face said what my voice didn’t. 

“It’s bullshit,” I deadpan, “Yes, the Kubler-Ross model is a reliable foundation that identifies common emotions and behaviors exhibited by grieving people. However, as a society and a field of study, we treat these stages as a roadmap whe-” 

My phone begins buzzing incessantly, Jameson’s name lighting up the screen each time. At that moment my cat launches herself onto the desk, deciding the phone is now her prey. To the amusement of my classmates, I wrestle her into my lap. 

Scratching her head I continue, “when grieving is a prolonged cluster-fuck of overlapping emotions. You can’t accurately predict what someone is going to feel next when helping them through a time of grief. Even if it’s been experienced before.”

Momentary silence followed, my class dumbfounded by either my audacity to attack the respected Kubler-Ross stages of grief model or my horrifyingly unprofessional word choice. 

Dr. Richards collected herself quickly, “That was….well put. And sounds like a great stopping point. Remember tha-”

I shut my laptop quickly. Resting my head against my cat’s I groan. That was not how I should have phrased that at all. I could have said it better; I could have said nothing at all. Good job racking up all that college credit in high school just to give a long winded, unfiltered response to a simple question. Whatever Jameson has to say, it better be important. 

Jameson: Grayson is being mean

                 Please help

               Tell him to pull that stick out of his ass an people respond to things different

Me: Drink water and sleep it off please

Jameson: He keeps talking abou “arrangements”

Me: Oh? Does that mean you want to help?

Jameson: Come fix him

      Please

If Grayson doesn’t kill Jameson, I might. During class and the flood of messages, I missed calls from my aunt and uncle. New arrivals at the antique store need repairs, there is a commission for a book restoration, but beyond that, the note on the box stated the contents are for my eyes only.  I put my laptop, textbook, and supplies into my backpack ready to add to my growing to-do list. I'll go to the antique store first and decide how much fixing each item needs, get supplies to make lasagna and blueberry scones, call Grayson, find sources for an animal intelligence presentation, and revise whatever notes I took during this afternoon's lecture. 

[jarofrebukepodcast]

S1E1 - Pilot (OFFICIAL TRANSCRIPT)

We are working on getting our official transcripts uploaded and links added to each episode. We'll be starting by posting them here on Tumblr!

Episode 1: Pilot

Intro:

The following audio recording is classified documentation for case (static) with The Enclosure, unauthorized access to this information will lead to immediate intervention. Progress further if proper clearance has been given.

(Music)

Jared:

Dr. Daman has suggested that I start an audio journal of some kind. Something outside of my therapy sessions to help me track my progress or whatever. Considering I don’t have much of anything that’s mine anymore, she suggested that this might actually be a good way to reclaim some of my individuality? Maybe talking about what I do know of myself might help me remember more...

So, I guess I’ll just start with what I know:

My name is Dr. Jared Hel. I’m a field researcher for The Enclosure, I specialize in studying the particularly dangerous creatures around here. For some reason, no matter their effect on others, nothing is permanent on me. Gods, the amount of times I’ve died this last year is probably more than I should ever care to admit… I guess it’s a blessing in disguise, though. It’s job security, for one thing: a scientist who can’t die no matter how dangerous the entity he’s studying? I think I’m set.

Sure, I may bounce back from death with a few more scars, but they’re relatively healed up and I’m rarely ever in much pain when I wake up.

Though, to be fair, if The Enclosure just left these creatures alone, I’m sure this wouldn’t even be an issue in the first place, but nooo. They just gotta meddle.

I started working at The Enclosure… what, two years ago? Though I’ve really only been on the field for less than a year. Apparently I worked at a different research site for some other organization before that, but I don’t really remember anything from before two years ago. I supposedly transferred here to research a particularly dangerous subject, the one that… well, the one that killed my team and me I guess.

The most frustrating thing is the lack of remembering. I don’t remember any of their names, their faces, nothing. I had to relearn absolutely everything and no matter what I relearn, I never remember. It’s so infuriating knowing that there’s a whole childhood and more that I have yet to recollect anything from. I feel so… left out of reminiscent conversations, y’know?

Well, of course you know, I’m practically talking to myself here.

All I know of myself before the incident is what was on my work file. Top-of-my-class graduate from IU, but I don’t remember a damn thing about my time there… Apparently there’s a lot of fields ‘round there, though I guess that’s not too different from the towns around here. Born and raised in those corn fields, according to my records. No documented family to speak of, but from what other folks in the labs have shared about their families, maybe I’m not missing out on too much.

When I asked about getting in touch with folks from the other facility I worked at, they didn’t seem to think it would be too helpful. Hell, how would they even know who to put me in touch with? Wasn’t like they would have documented my friends or anything.

So, again: nothing. 

Story of my damn life.

And of course there’s Todd. Oh, I’m sorry, Dr. Todd Carmen. He’s currently head of operations at The Enclosure… he’s- I’ll say he’s a character. Not as unique as he thinks he is, but certainly not boring. But just because something isn’t boring doesn’t mean that it’s entertaining.

He has a fashion sense that I would have never personally considered wearing, but… hmm. That shade of orange with his pale complexion? Simply bold choices, in my opinion.

But I’m sure he’ll get himself sorted out someday.

Besides all that though, I guess it’s not too bad. Job security, with benefits. Apparently a lot of jobs don’t offer health insurance, though with our line of work it’s kinda necessary to keep us alive. 

(sigh) What else do I know?

The Enclosure is an organization based out in the middle of absolute nowhere that researches the various anomalies, but really only bothers with the particularly dangerous ones. Like, really dangerous ones. I mean, Bigfoot, Mothman, that sorta stuff they really leave to their own devices for the most part. Sure, they hurt and even, I guess, sometimes kill people, but not a lot of people. And enough people already know about those things to not really hide them away now.

Wichton is like two hours from any other town, it's guised as a farming town. Well, no, it is a farming town, but The Enclosure has taken it as its guise. Most of the facilities are underground, deep underground. They paid off all the townsfolk back when they were building to not ask questions, and considering they built it during a massive economic depression, no one asked questions. The townsfolk took the money. But there’s still some circulating rumors about us to this day, of course. As long as we keep the particularly dangerous creepy-crawlies underground with us, they’ve got no reason to worry too much.

Sure, sometimes things sneak out and make weird noises in the fields at night… but country folk are superstitious folk, and if nothing else it’s what these people have known all their lives. Suspicious lights, weird noises, and mutated deer don’t even phase these people.

The Enclosure picks its battles when it decides what to tackle, that’s for damn sure. Not like they’re an international brand or anything, they only have the resources to stick to these neck of the woods… and with all the anomalies in these parts, not really surprised they settled here. Been here for nearly 100 years and have very little idea why it’s such a supernaturally-charged area. Some say it might be the fact that folks are so superstitious that it basically invites the energy here, but others think there’s a reason.

But, it ain’t my department to figure that out.

The hardest part of the job is getting things into the facility, but sometimes the hot shots up top decide to just have us study those things from afar since taking them out of their established location seems impossible. So many ladies in gray and white dresses all over the place, we can’t exactly make a support group for them here or anything. Not when they’re out haunting dunes or lakes or crying by the side of the road or whatever. Not really hurting anyone all that much, so they’ve mostly just been left alone. We keep tabs, but we also don’t always interfere.

Oh, and being the sacrificial lamb is a bit annoying, but I bounce back quickly enough. Death has gotten less disorienting over time, but no less annoying.

(pause, then sigh) 

What did I do today?

Well, I had a shorter day, shiftwise. So I went in at like 6am? Then got out at around 1ish. I was supposed to leave closer to noon, but I ended up having to stop by Dr. Rahal’s office for a bit because of my headaches. They’ve been getting worse and we don’t really know why. At least they come and go in waves, so I get some peace at times. It’s always nice to see Dr. Rahal, though. He’s been the nicest to me since I started at this place, from what I can remember at least. He’s one of The Enclosure physicians who I’ve been seeing from anything to work-related injuries that aren’t too severe to these headaches. I swear, I’ve never met a guy in my life who can smile so genuinely and be so sincerely happy over just about anything. It’d honestly be annoying if it weren’t so sincere and if he weren’t also so genuinely nice. 

He’s really trying to help with these headaches, but medicine doesn’t really ever help and the medical scans showed nothing that would indicate any issue. Not that they let me see the medical scans… I guess I wouldn’t understand them anyways even if they did let me. Dr. Rahal thinks it’s stress so that takes us back to therapy with Dr. Daman.

Had a session after work, which was when she suggested I really start this up. She suggested it before, but I kind of dismissed the idea until today. She made a very good point.

What’s the harm in doing it? I mean it can’t make the headaches worse. And even if it doesn’t help me remember or anything, maybe getting things off my chest can help in some way. 

Therapy was… uneventful. Not like much happens in a week- just the usual work stuff, mostly. Though I have started going out after work a bit more often, even if it’s just to a local shop or to get a bite to eat. Dr. Daman suggested a few months back that I socialize a bit more and it’s been kinda nice. Weird, but nice. I've mostly stuck to myself outside of work, honestly. Well, besides those community events that you're basically ostracized if you don't attend- or you get bombard you with those calls of "where were you last night? We were so worried about you. Are you okay?" even though you don't remember giving them your number. 

I like to go to a restaurant in town called The Royal Cow. They make the best in-house ice cream. They built it to look like one of those red farm houses which matches most of the buildings in town, but their mint chocolate-chip ice cream is basically the best ice cream I’ve ever had. They also make really really good sugar-cream pie, get it when it’s still fresh, still a little warm. Melts in the mouth. I mean, it basically cures any hankering for a sweet tooth.

So, that’s what I ordered. A fresh slice of sugar-cream pie. That was my dessert. They do also have some pretty good not-sweet foods. Their lunch menu’s alright, but their breakfast food’s really where it’s at and they do that ‘breakfast all day’ thing so I got their breakfast platter. It’s just really really good food.

On my way home I bumped into Darius, he's the son of some local farmers in town. His dads have an apple orchard on top of everything else. The Enclosure actually keeps tabs on their farm because no matter WHAT his dad, John, plants, apples always grow. I mean- no matter what John plants - he could plant pumpkin seeds in the fall - but no, apple trees are going to spring up and I’ll be damned if those aren’t the best apples. I mean sometimes crabapples grow instead, he can’t really control what kind of apples grow, but John has found a way to make crabapples into really good apple pies and ciders and stuff. I heard they make good jams and jellies, but he perfected a crabapple pie. He said it’s “just a lotta love”, but I think there’s with those apple trees.

But again, not my department to figure it out.

Darius and I made small talk. The weather, mostly. So mostly just complaining about how it wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t so humid or if we just had a nice breeze, but that the shade does help. 

(sigh)

He always makes excuses to talk to me- I mean, I’m not complaining, but that does seem to be a thing around town is everyone makes excuses to talk to everybody. Like the one time that Holly stopped me in the middle of the road to chat when we were passing each other. It’s a community norm I guess, but Darius always wants to talk. Again I’m not complaining, he’s a really nice conversational partner. We can chat about just about anything with certain obvious restrictions.

He knows I work at the The Enclosure, but folks in town seem to think it’s some hoity-toity but shady government job. I don’t think we’re really tied to the government, per se, but whatever lie they’ve told the town is just what I stick with. Whether or not they believe that is entirely another story. He knows I’m a scientist, but he thinks I’m more of an environmental natural scientist instead of a supernatural scientist… I guess whether or not he believes that is an entirely other story, too. 

But we don’t really talk about work much, on my end I don’t bring it up. While he does talk about working on the family farm from time to time, especially because they expect him to take over, he tries to find other things to talk about. He’s gone back to school recently. They recently in town set up a sort of trade school, I guess, where if anyone’s considered a master in town, they can teach classes to teach other people whatever skills they have to share. Seems Darius is taking a bit of a home-ec class, I guess. Sewing and cooking and things like that. He said that he’s great with his hands in the field, but he really wants to round out his hand skills. 

He then awkwardly chuckled after that, but I don’t understand why. I mean, it’s completely respectable to want to be able to stitch up your own clothes or actually have a nice dinner besides the reheated leftovers left on your doorstep or know what to do when your microwave catches fire… honestly, I don’t know what all they teach in those classes.

I’d never even heard of something like a home-ec class until Darius told me about it. I wonder if I ever took one… if I wasn’t so busy with work I would actually look into taking classes. I like to learn and Darius even said he’d be more than happy to help me with anything if I needed it which is nice. 

But I’m a really fast learner. I actually get bored a lot because of it. I don’t see why anyone would need five months or years of training or educating. No, I can see why- I also just know I'm the anomaly. When I forgot everything and had to relearn how to read, I was at a 10th grade reading level, by what, just a few weeks?. Then I was at college-level again in a matter of a month. But even though I was relearning stuff quick, I never remembered anything. I never remembered books I’ve read before the incident. I never remembered learning how to read the first time. I just was quickly relearning how to read. I don’t even know if you’d consider remembering how to read. 

I mean, I’m never remembering anything. I don’t even remember the creature that I was working with in the incident, and no one will tell me anything because they said they want me to remember organically or something like that. They said they feared something like a… trauma whiplash? I really don’t understand it and it just pisses me off more than anything, but Dr. Daman won’t budge.

No one will let me look over any files of the incident or files on the other lab techs who died. They slapped this key around my neck and said “Here, to keep your brain in check. Oh, you literally remember nothing? Whelp, tough luck. See this therapist and see what happens-”

(groan)

They said if it weren’t for my weird powers then the incident would have killed me too. They said they don’t know why I have the ability to rebound from death like it nearly never happened, but they sure are willing to use my ability for work.

Right, the key. Uhm-

When I woke up, the first thing the doctors did was have me wear it around my neck on some sort of sturdy red cord. I’ve never taken the thing off in years… You would think that it may have faded a bit or that the cord would have worn, but no. Cord is still sturdy and key is just as shiny as the day they gave it to me, which isn’t that shiny. It was a bit tarnished already, but hasn’t gotten any more tarnished. It’s supposed to help keep my brain in check after the effects of the incident. Dr. Daman says that if I take it off, I risk unlearning absolutely everything that I’ve learned in the last two years… I don’t know why the key is supposed to be the thing that does this, but this is the only time death has ever made me lose everything, so I figured what’s the harm in wearing it. Not like it hurts to wear it or anything…

Darius has asked me about it before, though. Not when we first met or anything, but after multiple times of running into each other he finally asked. I get asked about it a lot, but I just say it’s a familial trinket and they tend to just leave it be.

But Darius had asked after we’d shared a few drinks at a local bar and, even though I have a bit of a high tolerance for alcohol and I never stay drunk long, he seemed to ask at just the right moment for me to open up a bit more, I guess. I said it’s a comfort item… which I guess isn’t exactly the whole truth- I actually honestly hate this thing. A constant reminder of all the things I’ve forgotten, but I guess there’s slight comfort in knowing that, because of this key, everything I’ve relearned will stick. 

They say it’s important to understand all that you DON’T know, but I know all too well that I’ve got at least 20 years of things that I don’t remember. But hey, with this key, I guess I can rebuild that. 

I must have seemed uncomfortable about this question or he was satisfied with that answer because Darius let it go after that, but I catch him staring at it sometimes. He’s asked what I know about Skeleton Keys, and all things considered: I didn’t know much. At least, didn’t remember.

He told me that his dads both told him about the powers keys hold, not just to lock things but even more importantly to unlock them. That a skeleton key could lock or unlock any door to a given building, no matter what other keys people had. Commonly used by cleaners and inn owners and stuff like that. He really seems fixated on the idea and I guess the symbolism is striking with my current… situation considered....

Whatever. The less he knows the better- it would be nice to talk to someone outside of The Enclosure about more personal stuff from time to time, but I can’t go around spilling secrets.

(Pause)

… right, my day. Lunch, talked with Darius. Uh-

After about 15 minutes of 'alright, I should get going’'s, taking a few steps apart, starting up talks about other topics and repeating the process, I finally started home. On my way home I drove past some cornfields and various other pastures. The Enclosure gave me a house near the edge of town, because after a year of rigorous ‘relearning’, I didn't want to live in their communal housing anymore. It's not too far from Darius's family orchard and farm, which is nice. Nicest farm in the area, in my opinion. There's no real rivalry between the farmers, at least nothing too intense, but something about those trees in the distance out of my window is really relaxing.

All the cattle I passed on my way home had moved to face the same direction near the fences and stared into the distance, mindlessly grazing- that and the clouds rolling in were very strong indicators that there was gonna be a heck of a storm tonight. I didn't listen to the weather announcement this morning, but the sky's only gotten darker now so I'm ready to sleep like the dead tonight.

But, when I was pulling into the driveway, I saw something rustling in the bushes by my front door. I thought maybe it was a squirrel or rabbit or something, but then two tiny hands parted the leaves and I saw one of those black-eyed children just… sitting there. Staring at me. I normally only see them at night, I guess it was waiting for me to come home to loiter on the doorstep or something- I don't know. When I got out of my car, I was surprised when it actually climbed out of the bush and just rigidly stared at me with those lifeless black eyes. I got my stuff out of my car and made my way to the door, but it was kinda standing in the way? So I just slid on by it with a muttered apology and slipped inside before it could start whispering requests for entrance.

Never making that mistake again. No matter how much I want to let them in, my house got all sorts of messed up last time and I got a heck of a scolding at work when they found out. I don’t shoo them away, but I don’t let them in anymore.

It was really weird. They normally come knocking or waiting by the sides of the road at night, I had never seen one in the middle of the afternoon.

Once I got settled in I pulled out a book, a crossword book, I was gifted at the last community bonfire. I blow through those things really fast, but I really like them, so Christine gave me like five of them. All different, claimed that she found the most difficult ones she could which was really sweet. She even wrote little notes on the inside cover of each of them, so I’ve ended up keeping them when I'm done just so I can reread her notes when I need a little pick-me-up. Whether a crossword book or a little box of treats, she always writes uplifting notes and anecdotes inside any gifts she gives anyone, all signed in the most beautiful cursive:

With love, Christine Torres.

She really mothers everyone in town, at least that’s what I’ve noticed.

This one is a real toughie, which I like. That's mostly what I've been up to since I got home. I decided that I'd take a break and get to doing, well, this. Dr. Daman was adamant about me giving it a shot, so here we are.

Me, myself, and I…

(Phone dinging)

Ope. Sorry, hold on. Work email.

(Mumbling) Who am I even apologizing to?

(Pause)

Well now, wait a minute- A new lab partner? Dr. Gia Castillo… why the hell did they give me a new lab partner? I guess I'm meeting her in the morning…

I hate it when Todd pulls this. But I guess I've got no say in the matter. The usual.

(Sigh)

But I hate sudden change. I'm tired, I'm reheating some food Mrs. Wethington gave me and going to bed. I can hear the thunder starting to get louder and that kid outside tapping on my door, so I guess I should try and get some sleep.

Guess I'll… talk to you later?

(Pause) This is actually kinda nice. Saying whatever I want without worries. (Strained chuckle that trails off)

I'm already dreading tomorrow.

Dr. Jared Hel, signing off, I guess.

(Recorder clicks and music trails in with sounds of thunder)

Credits:

"Jar of Rebuke" is written and produced by Casper Oliver, who is also the voice of Dr. Jared Hell.

The intro is read by Vanessa Rosengrant, and credits are read by Ashlee Craft who has created the podcast’s official graphics.

Music was created by TheMenniss (spelled M-E-N-N-I-S-S), who you can find and support on Bandcamp, Spotify, and Twitch.

Find us on Twitter, Instagram, and anywhere else you get your podcast fix for more “Jar of Rebuke”, and also to get updates on upcoming official merch for our show.

Support projects by this crew on Patreon to further other queer-lead projects and get neat perks. All donations are appreciated and will grant further clearance to special “Jar of Rebuke” content.

Thesperience Productions Patreon.

[ericalagu]

“Incredible change happens in your life when you decide to take control of what you do have power over instead of craving control over what you don’t.” – Steve Maraboli

22/05/2022, Sunday.

I finished my exams 🎉

On the 12/05/2022 I took my last exam ever, it was Advanced Organic Chemistry. I still have to realise that I am free from studying!

Now I'll start the master's thesis. On Tuesday I should start the training in the lab, I hope to be independent fast. The sooner I do my analysis the sooner I can graduate and, who knows, maybe apply for a PhD! 👩🏻‍🎓

Last week I went to a Polymers Conference, 5 days long. It has been inspiring, I've met young researchers/PhDs and talked about how it works where they are from. Honestly, I have a positive energy since I got back! I just want to do things and work in the lab 💪🏻

[rebelspykatie]

I know we all love Spidey Will and MJ Wheeler, but I think there’s untapped potential for Spider Mike and Gwen Stacy Will. I’ve just been thinking about an Amazing Spiderman AU with nerdy, skateboarding Mike who goes to school with Will, but they don’t really run in the same circles. 

Ted Wheeler was a businessman with a mysterious past that Mike knows very little about, except for a connection to Hawkins Lab through Brenner. Mike ends up sneaking into the lab for more information and runs into Will, who is an intern working in their genetics department. Brenner hired him to get closer to El, as she is the only successful genetically modified result of their experiments. El doesn’t remember much about the experiment and was adopted by Hopper at a young age. 

Hopper is Will’s stepdad and chief of police. Hopper and Mike have the same dynamic that Peter had with Gwen’s dad, a little antagonistic, but ultimately they’re on the same side once Mike starts uncovering the horrors behind what Hawkins Lab has done to children. Maybe Mike works for the Hawkins Bugle as a writer for their youth column (I’m picturing them as seniors in the 18 years old range) and does an expose on Brenner’s experiments, exposing his child abuse in an attempt to get the lab shut down. 

Brenner is dying and that’s why he needs to figure out what worked with El, so that he can genetically alter his own DNA to stop the illness. In an act of desperation when he can’t get his hands on El or Mike, he tries to trigger the whole town and sets off a bomb with the serum he injected into El and the spider that bit Mike. Will and Mike work together with Dustin, Erica and Lucas (also interns at the lab) to create an antidote that stops his plan.

In between all of that, I’m imagining Mike learning the ropes and testing out his powers. Think about the possibilities of him dangling outside of Will’s window like “I was just hanging around, wanted to see what you were up to.” Mike in all his sassy, asshole glory mouthing off to bad guys at the scene of every crime around Hawkins (pretend it’s a bigger city like New York). Giving just the shittiest attitude to cops that think he’s a criminal for being a vigilante, telling them he’s better at their job than they are. 

Will helping Mike with his costume and sketching up a million different designs and color combos. Mike slamming clumsily into a wall when he tries to catch up to Will walking down the street. The iconic “I’m gonna throw you out the window” reminds me of “Max, get away from the door” where they can’t look away from each other when some really serious shit is about to happen with the villain. Mike showing up with squashed flowers for Will after they rattled around in his backpack before he swung up to Will’s window. 

Mike and Will arguing like an old married couple while Brenner is setting up his big evil plot. Them arguing and Mike using his webs to pull Will back to him and kiss him. Hiding somewhere while Brenner monologues and Mike can’t help kissing Will, who is like NOW IS NOT THE TIME MICHAEL and Mike pretends to pout but rolls his eyes and goes after the bad guy. 

Will questioning if they should stay away from each other because his connection to El and Brenner puts Mike at risk. Mike spelling out I love you on a bridge with his webs to prove that he isn’t going anywhere because of some stupid bad guy. Mike swinging into graduation and kissing Will in front of the whole school while his mom is shocked in the crowd (no Aunt May here, just single mom Karen). 

My only demand is that Will and Hopper live, obviously. 

[moonflower-31]

Pen Pals - Spencer Reid x Reader

Part 1

Part 2!

Ongoing! (But slow updates, srry)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: Talk of being used for free labor? If that's anything?

A/N: Okay, guys, I got randomly inspired for this thing. Idk for sure about updates just yet, but I promise to get working on the next one for this and for IWFY. When inspo hits, it's gonna hit hard. So enjoy this! It's a bit longer than the last, but still. You'll get Spencer's next letter reply in the next installment. I'm also gonna start putting dates on their letters so we can follow along with the passage of time. Toodles!

Tags: @thatsonezesty13, @egg-boy03, @idjitlili, @meowiemari, @meganskane, @lonelyran, @rainsong01, let me know if I missed you or if you wanna be added to the list!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I remained too much inside my own head and ended up losing my mind.” - Edgar Allen Poe 

The sun was blisteringly hot, as Ohio summers always were. This one was no different. Of course today of all days had to be the day your father had picked to start work on the farm. Leaving you no time to prepare for your incoming day of departure. 

The past week or so had been…eventful, to say the least. After you’d graduated, you had hoped that maybe your parents would let up on some of their rules on studying. You had been right, but they were hellbent on you returning to school. Med school. Despite all the preparation you’d made for it, you weren’t quite sure you wanted to go through with your original plan. After all, it was your parent's dream. Not yours. 

No matter the circumstance, the conversations you had with your parents always ended with them discussing when you would be applying for med school. Scratch that, the conversations you had with your mother, while your father just stared at you. His conversations only ever composed of farm work and how you should listen to your mother. 

Now that you’d graduated, you didn’t know what to do. You were only 23. The sky’s the limit, as your bio-lab teacher, Mr. Underwood, would say. You just have to know when to jump. 

Your only problem? You had absolutely no idea. 

You reach up to your forehead, wiping off the sheen of sweat that had accumulated there. With a grunt, you forced yourself to lift the crate of feed bags your father had tasked you with carrying to the chicken coop. All morning you’d been working. From the minute Ronny, one of your family’s roosters, had woken you at dawn, you’d been hard at work with no breaks. Your father wouldn’t allow it even if you tried to ask. 

“(Y/N)! Enough wastin’ around! That feed ain’t gonna move itself!” Abraham, your father, shouted from off in the distance. He was probably headed to his tractor to start the harvest. You internally groaned, the annoyance multiplied by the rare breeze blowing your hair into your face. This was why you usually wore your hair back, whatever the length. Your mother always insisted on having it long, though. The idea of cutting it was never up for debate. The longer your hair, the happier your mother was. Though you did dream of the day you’d escape the farm life and chop it all off. The look on your mother's face would be priceless. 

“I’m not as strong as you dad! It’s gonna take me a bit.” You call back, grimacing as some of the wooden crate dug into your palms. You rearranged your hold, hoping to carry the weight in your legs if that made any sense. 

Whatever it was you did, it helped. The burden of the crate’s weight was soon not as much an issue, and the crate was put beside the coop. The roar of the tractor made you internally wish you were something else. A fish or a bird, anything to get out of having to help your father carry the harvest to the barn where it would be put into more crates and then shipped out to be properly cleaned and made ready for people to buy at the grocery store. When the harvest day comes, you know to make yourself busy with a study group, or something. But school was not in session. 

But then, as if the universe had heard your childish plea, you heard the backdoor swing open, and your mother call out to you. “(Y/N)! Could you go get the mail for me sweetheart?” 

The task, simple and much easier than the task you knew was coming, you jumped at the chance to do something else. “Yeah! Sure Mom!” You called before your father could cry out in protest that your mother was taking away his free labor. He was already suggesting you go to med school online, so you didn’t have to move. More like he wanted you to stay so he didn’t have to cough up the money to hire farmhands. 

Considering the amount of harvest your father’s farm produced every year, you and your father managed to get it all done somehow. Your family was well off in a way only a farmer’s family could be. But you knew that was only because they didn’t have to budget in a salary for helpers. Your father had wanted a son, as all men in your small town did, but unfortunately for him, you were the one and only child he was given. His brother, on the otherhand, had at least 6 boys. You’d lost count of how many facebook posts your aunt had made announcing another new ‘bundle of joy’. At least your mother’s sister knew her worth, and had decided to travel rather than to settle down and let a man control her life. You idolized her, and her gifts of international novels and special editions were everything. 

You raced towards the mailbox, your mind soon travelling to the idea of a new package from said aunt. It had only been a month or two since her last parcel, but you could still dream! 

Then you remembered your penpal letter you’d sent a few weeks prior. You wondered if it even got to it’s destination. People moved locations all the time. You hadn’t even stopped to consider that when you’d sent the damn thing. The thought that you could have a reply hadn’t crossed your mind at all since you’d graduated. Excitement quickly filled your bones and you raced faster down the hill towards the mailbox in the front of your family’s property closest to the road. You slowed your racing feet to a halt as you approached your family’s mailbox. The red flag was up! 

An excited giggle erupted from your throat before you could catch it, making yourself pause and take a deep breath. There was no reason to get this excited over a response. Or over a present from your aunt. But the childish voice in your head quickly convinced you otherwise. You reached out with a grin, opening the box almost dramatically. To your triumph, there was indeed mail! But unfortunately, no package. 

Only slightly disheartened, you grabbed the small stack of letters and started to look at the names of to whom they were addressed to. As you began to look, you started to head back up the hill towards your house, almost forgetting to close the mailbox. 

The first envelope you looked at seemed to be an advertisement for a cruise. As if. It was addressed to your mother. Of course. She loved to dream. You put that one behind the rest and looked at the second. This one was addressed to your father, unfortunately. You then placed that one behind the previous and continued through the rest of the mail, almost losing hope that you’d be getting a response at all. Then, when all hope felt lost, and you had grabbed the handle to your front screen door, you glanced down at the last envelope. It was addressed to you! 

With a dart of your eyes you checked the sender’s name, and your heart flipped as you read the name back as Dr. Spencer Reid. 

Withholding the full extent of your excitement, you quickly opened the front door and grabbed your letter before dropping the rest on the dining room table. 

“Thank you darling-” Your mother says sweetly, blinking in bewilderment as you run up the stairs to your room with an envelope in your hand. She raises an eyebrow, intrigued. 

You close your door once you manage to slide into your room, racing over to your desk to open the small envelope. You pick up the letter opener your aunt had sent with the stationary and quite literally rip the thing open. At this action you take a brief pause. Maybe it was best that you calmed down a bit. You didn’t want your mother to get too curious. 

After a deep breath, you open your eyes and pull the neatly folded paper from the now opened envelope. You place the envelope aside and open the letter. You read happily, entirely thrilled by the contents. So he was a doctor! Not a medical one, but neither were you! Your eyes continue to scale the letter up and down, your smile growing with each new fact. His IQ was impressive! And so was his reading speed. Not mention he was extremely well educated. Three PhDs? He really earned his right to be called a doctor. 

So his address had changed. You were right. But it had somehow made it to him. 

What fascinated you even more was his similar love for reading. Especially in another language. It was like you were meeting another version of you but, genderbent. Kinda. 

Your eyes turned to the list of books the good doctor had left at the end of his letter. Your smile grew even wider, even though you already had over half of these books on your shelf already. 

Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle - (One of my personal favorites)

Beyond Good and Evil - Friedrich Nietzsche 

The Illiad - Homer 

The Raven and the Monkey’s Paw - Edgar Allen Poe 

The Happiness Hypothesis - Jonathan Haidt 

You smiled, happy to see your penpal enjoyed many of the same books and stories that you did. You read it over just once more before you decided it was time to put it away before your mother came in with the news that your father was asking for you. You searched your room for a moment, unsure of where to put the letter for safe keeping. Who knows? You may want to look back on them someday. 

“I’ve gotta have something…” You mumble to yourself. 

“(Y/N)? Honey? Did you get any mail?” You heard your mother’s voice suddenly call through the door to your room while accompanying a knock. A brief jolt of nervousness runs through you, worried if your mother found out about the letter she’d forbid you from sending another reply. Then you sighed with relief. You could just say it was a copy of your diploma. 

“Yeah, just a copy of my diploma, mom.” You called back. Your mother seemed to accept it, not immediately doubting you. 

“Mind if I come in?” Your mother asked suddenly. You felt your throat grow dry as your nerves rose again. It’s fine. You can hide the letter, you tell yourself. But where?

“Honey?” Your mother asks again, the doorknob slowly turning. In a panic, you open your nightstand drawer and shoved the letter inside along with the envelope. You turned back towards your mother, who now stood in your doorway facing you who stood in front of your nightstand. She blinked a few times, confused. There was no way she wasn’t suspicious now. 

“Hey uh... Sorry. I was putting my diploma away. D-don’t need two versions of the same thing out and displayed, right?” You reply, mentally cursing your stutter. Again, your mother seems to buy your excuse, shaking her head and approaching you. 

 “I was just checking on you, honey. Did you need anything? I know you’ve been outside all day.” Your mother offered, reassuring you that she was merely curious. You hold back your sigh of relief, beginning to shake your head. 

“No I don’t think there’s…” You begin, before you remember. “Wait, mom, do you still have that old jewelry box you wanted to give me a few years ago? The one with the hidden slots?” You begin. Your mother ponders your question for a moment, probably bewildered that of all things to ask for after a day in the hot sun, you ask for a family heirloom. 

“I think so… why? Did you want it?” She asked, a slight tone of hope making your mother’s pitch rise. You quickly nodded, watching as your mother smiled and nodded back to you. “Alright, then I’ll go find it. Let me know if there’s anything else, okay?” Your mother walked back towards your bedroom door, making sure you knew you could ask her for anything you needed. Despite her shortcomings, she was your mother, and you loved her. Even if her views were slightly skewed. 

“I know, Mom. I’ll be sure to ask if I need anything else.” You assure her, Almost pushing her out the door via the actual door. She sighed and stepped away from the doorway, smiling back at you tiredly. 

“Alright sweetie. Just know your father is asking for you. I’ll leave the jewelry box on your desk.” Your mother informs and it takes every fiber of your being not to groan in frustration. Not getting out of it this time. 

Without another word, your mother closes your door, and you’re left in your own excitement and annoyance. At least something good came of today.

—---

“Hey, pretty boy.”

Spencer lifted his head from his desk of reports, a little annoyed that his focus had been interrupted. His hazel eyes met the brown ones of Derek Morgan, a playful grin on his face. He didn’t reply, knowing Derek would soon tell him what he wanted anyway. 

“Why don’t you come with Garcia, Prentiss, and me tonight? We’re celebrating a win.” Derek suggests. Spencer raises an eyebrow and shakes his head, a smile quickly finding its place on his face. As a side note, he did notice the lack of hair swinging into his face now that he’d gotten his hair cut. He didn’t hate it. 

“I’ve worked with the three of you long enough to know that an ‘outing’ always leads to trouble. Largely, because it more than likely involves copious amounts of alcohol.” Reid replies, turning his focus back to his reports. He’d already almost finished them, as was his usual. Derek still had at least half the stack Reid had started with to get done. It gave Spencer a small twinge of pride. 

Derek rolled his eyes. “Come on, man. You never wanna go out with us. Are we no fun for you?” Derek teased. 

“No, it’s actually the fact that I have done the research and calculated the statistics to know that when alcohol is involved alongside you, the night will more than likely end with me in a back alley with sharpie on my face.” Spencer, without looking up from his reports, quickly fired back. 

“Woah, when did this happen?” Emily’s voice suddenly entered the conversation, her figure taking a seat at her desk. Her voice hinted with amusement, alerting Reid to the fact that she was also teasing. He wasn’t going to risk misunderstanding verbal and nonverbal cues again.

Spencer lifted his head, himself slightly amused. “October 23rd of last year Morgan had the brilliant idea to take me out as a ‘birthday present’ rather than just buying a book as he’d done before. I woke up in the middle of the night with sharpie drawn on my face and ditched in the back alley behind the bar. Morgan had already gone home!” Spencer regaled, pulling a smile from the man in question as he slightly spun in his chair while twirling his pen. Emily widened her eyes and huffed out a laugh. 

“Okay, that’s a pretty valid reason,” Emily says, laughing as she turns to her reports to begin working. “Though we should hang out sometime soon. Even if it isn’t a bar to make sure our resident genius doesn’t have to scrub his face raw.” Emily’s smile grows as she jokes. Spencer rolls his eyes as Morgan lets out an extended ‘Ooohh’. 

“See I didn’t ask for this abuse? Okay? Someone tell me it’s 8 o’clock.” Spencer retorted in protest, pulling a laugh from both of his co-workers. His smile is obvious though, amused by his co-workers and their teasing after years of growing used to it. 

“What's the rush? You got a date waiting for you?” Morgan teased. Spencer rolled his eyes again. 

“Not everyone is as entertained by the thought of a relationship as you, Morgan.” Spencer insisted. “No, I do not have a date. I actually have a ‘date’ with coffee and my bed. See, I can do metaphors.” Spencer insisted, turning again to his reports and writing a few lines. 

“That…I’m not even gonna attempt it.” Emily spoke, laughing with Morgan at Spencer’s lack of understanding of references and sayings. 

Unfortunately, that was where the conversation quickly died down and the three were left in silence. It irked Spencer greatly, especially since these ‘abandoned’ conversations had been a frequent occurrence since JJ had been whisked away to the Pentagon. It was like there was a piece of them missing. The team had run so smoothly that to take away one of their members was like taking away the main power source of a machine. Leaving him and the remaining members scrambling to figure out how to compensate. 

Finally, a few minutes later, Spencer finished his last report and closed it triumphantly. He briefly checked his watch, happy to see the shorthand pointing at the 8.  “See you guys tomorrow.” He says as he stands up and picks up his messenger bag and slings it on his left shoulder to rest against his right hip, waving goodbye to Morgan and to Emily. 

“Don’t party too hard.” Derek called, pulling a smile back onto Spencer’s face as he carried his reports to Hotch’s desk. 

—----

Exhaustion was starting to feel heavy as Spencer stepped into his apartment, the dim lights certainly not helping his case. He yawned tiredly, placing his go bag by the door as usual. He opened his messenger bag, remembering he’d grabbed his mail before heading upstairs. He places his messenger bag on his dining table, taking a seat to look at his probably over-due bills and mail. 

Unsurprisingly, Spencer found his water and electric bill in the stack, setting them aside to get done tomorrow morning before he heads into work. Then, what catches his eye, is the slightly smaller envelope with the hesitant and light penmanship. He chuckles to himself, happy to see he hadn’t scared his pen pal away with his detailed account of his academic achievements. However, upon second glance at the sender’s name and address, Spencer is slightly taken aback at the new addition beside the name. Dr. (Y/N) (L/N).  

Spencer smiles wider. So she’s graduated?

Spencer turns the envelope over, laughing to himself as he sees the envelope had not been sealed, and the seal had been folded into the envelope once again. He pulls the seal out and then the letter on the familiar blue stationary. Spencer then turns the delicate paper over, and began to read. 

18/09/2010

Hello again, Dr. Reid!  (How old are you by the way?)  

It is so good to hear from you! I was almost sure you were going to throw my letter away. Like, who uses Penpalsrus.com anymore besides ten-year-olds? I’m glad I got you though. You seem interesting! I love Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, by the way. I’ve read more things than you could probably guess. Though with your Eidetic memory you might.

I love poetry too. I have a whole book of Edgar Allen Poe’s poems on my bookshelf. My aunt sends me all kinds of books from her library every few months. I think I have a Greek version of the Illiad somewhere. I could loan it to you if you wanted. Though my mother might not like the amount of money I’d be spending to send it. 

So, you could probably read it already, but I finally graduated and I have my doctorate. I’m supposed to apply for med school this fall. My dad wants me to do it online so I can stay here on our family farm. Like I don’t do enough work already! I guess I don’t know what I want to do. My parents were the ones wanting me to go to med school. If I had any say I’d probably stick with biology and work in a lab. Or go back to school for Chem. Not that I don’t wanna learn about human behavior. It still fascinates me how people work. I study the brain in my free time for goodness sake!

What would you do? If you were in my shoes? I wanna make them happy, but this is my life. I can’t cater to them for the rest of my existence. 

You don’t have to give me an answer, by the way. I guess I’m just venting? It’s not like you could somehow tell my parents that I’m secretly planning to move out when I go back to college. 

What do you do for work, if you don’t mind my asking? A job that requires you to read people sounds amazing. Though I’d probably be happier in a lab. 

What are your PhDs and BAs? Maybe you can help me with my next doctorate. 

I should probably close this here. It’s getting kinda late. I hope to hear from you soon! 

Sincerely, 

(Y/N) (L/N)

Spencer found himself smiling warmly at the letter, not at all annoyed as he had been the first time he’d found out about his mother’s attempt to get him to socialize as a child. He felt he already knew (Y/N) better just from this one letter. The feelings she’d put into it were all over the blue paper. Not just in the words, but the lettering itself. The graphite wasn’t as light as it was the first time, however, it was still delicately written. The upper left hand corner had drops of wax on it, indicating she’d been writing by candlelight. 

Spencer folded the letter back up, leaving the rest of his mail on the table, forgotten. He headed to his bedroom, placing the letter among the first in his nightstand. He reached up and loosened his tie, shedding his sweater vest as his mind swarmed with ideas on how he wanted to reply. He didn’t at first think he’d find a friend in this little endeavor. But he’d clearly been wrong. 

She was into the books that he was. At the very least, Spencer had found a friend that he could discuss his favorite books with. But, secretly he hoped to create something he hadn’t had in some time outside the team or his childhood friend and rival, Ethan; a friend. Someone outside the team he could talk to without risk of putting anyone in danger as well as having an excuse to forget his current predicaments to talk with someone out of the loop. 

Spencer sighed to himself, wandering to his desk and taking his seat once again. His mind was too active to rest. He couldn’t recall when he’d last felt as excited as a child to simply write to someone. 

So, once he’d picked up a sheet of notebook paper and a pen, he began to write. And before long, he’d finished with a smile on his face and an ache in his wrist. Spencer yawned, stretching his arms out and rotating his wrist to soothe the ache. He stood up from his chair, resolving to make sure he put his reply in an envelope and mail it in the morning, along with sending his bill payments. 

Finally, Spencer felt his mind begin to rest, and with it, the rest of his body. He slowly removed his work clothes and climbed into bed, reminding himself of the poem left at the end of (Y/N)’s reply. He said it aloud to himself as he felt sleep quickly reach him, carrying the poem with him into sleep. 

Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice. 

From what I’ve tasted of desire

I hold with those who favor fire.

But if it had to perish twice, 

I think I know enough of hate

To know that for destruction ice 

Is also great

And would suffice. 

-Robert Frost

[rozphorus]

There's something about finally graduating to me that feels so deeply surreal. (CW: Depression, Sh/Sui)

Like - my experience with college is very much not the 'typical' experience. I spent six years working on a bachelor's degree. I spent two years of that in a dissociative haze, one of which was also spent doing ROTC due to pressure from bio family. I got academically dismissed at the end of that for another semester.

Getting kicked out for grades managed to finally intermittently break that dissociation - right into suicidal depression, instead. I was like a zombie before that, mostly, with there being one, concrete, 'expected' goal for me, from all of that family and extended family - getting a degree. Nothing else mattered.

Be a doctor. Be a lawyer. Be an engineer. Implicitly, anything less was a failure. I have half-sisters, none of whom completed a degree. The gossip of that 'failure state' would always come whispering whenever extended family got involved.

Was this cultural? To some extent, yes. I'm mixed-race, Asian-American, and my father was an immigrant from the Philippines, and his father emigrated from China.

Did that make it have less of an impact on me? No, not really.

I've held jobs nearly the entire time. I still ran out of money, and found it more preferable to try to live out of my car over returning to that house.

I ended up having to, anyways. The atmosphere had somehow gotten worse.

I started to piece things back together when the pandemic hit. The change in the way school was taught made it so much easier for me to deal with - everything became asynchronous, I didn't have to face the immense social anxiety I had over just -going to class-, I didn't have to deal with the dysphoria I'd get when looking at myself in the mirror before leaving. I could just, take my time, and learn the way that I needed to learn.

(Two years later, I'd learn that I have ADHD. Oops.)

This didn't fix the depression, though. I still wanted to die. There was still a churning void where a -me- should be. I was still very much an empty thing, with a singular goal of - well, getting a degree.

Eventually, this came to a head. Eventually, I nearly acted on that. When things started to open back up and I had to go back to classes in-person, every day that I walked through campus, I'd glance longingly at the top of buildings and parking garages. My mind would fill itself with idle daydreams of how to get through the fence that was installed at the top of the latter, what tools I'd need, how much it'd cost, how quickly I could get up and over so I could do what comes next.

Daily, for years by that point, I would be incapacitated by these feelings. I'd curl up in bed, thoughts filled with self-hatred, with what felt like something sharp and spiked stuck in my chest. It burned, like a flame, for maybe an hour, maybe two, maybe the rest of the night. Eventually, it'd pass, I'd get up, pretend that it didn't happen, and get back to work. After all -- I still had a goal, right? All I had to do was keep going, no matter how empty I was.

One day, that stopped working. By this point, the daily feelings were worsening. It had gone from this burning hot spike to a vacant cold. My mind no longer raced with all of the reasons I was worthless - instead, there was only the thought of not wanting to be here anymore. I would bite and scratch at myself - mind wandering towards blades, only stopped by some part of me feeling like that, once I used one, it would be the only time I used one.

I was getting ready to head into an electronics lab. I was already being consumed by those feelings, again - but I couldn't afford to miss the lab. I had run out of absences. I couldn't just -lose points-. I kept trying to get out of the apartment but would freeze every time I touched the doorknob.

I then caught a glance of the bathroom mirror. I didn't know what the thing looking back at me was. It wasn't me. It wanted me dead. I curled up on the floor. I remember sitting in the bathroom with a razor. I remember using it. I remember wanting to climb into the tub and use it more. I almost did. A friend (now partner) was messaging me by that point, and I ended up in a clinic for a while.

(When I woke up the next day, the first thought in my brain was that I had schoolwork to do. There was a midterm that day. I couldn't miss my midterm, obviously.)

Things got better. Quickly, then slowly; recovery is nonlinear, and did I ever experience that. I can confidently say that it was an inflection point, though.

Over the two years since, I've lived more than I ever had before. I found out who I am more and more. I found out who -we- were. I experienced emotions that I thought were permanently lost to me. I've found love several times over.

And, now - here I am. I have that degree.

I don't know what to feel about it. It had stopped being the sole focus of my life a while ago, for the most part, but I haven't had much time to think about what comes next - because of everything before, I had packed a lot of stressful classes into these last few semesters, and they were all-consuming in terms of energy and focus.

But, no matter where things go, I do have things to be here for. I want to change things around me. I want to make things better. I want to grow and be with those I love and help those around me.

For so many years, this was an endpoint for me. But, really - I think I'm just getting started.

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

[primis-marshmallow]

Two German Scientists

Chapter 1

Dr Brandt had been pleasantly surprised at a job offer to work for the secret government organisation Omega. However, things take a turn when her boss decides she’s more of a nuisance than a valuable member of the group. How will Dr Brandt survive when thrust into a new world, one where the actions of four men will dictate the survival of the universe?

Firebase z

6th January 1984

I had thought it might be difficult to get a job after I finished my studies. My PhD doesn’t lend itself to versatility; intense studies of human catatonic states and re-animation of organ systems, it’s obviously very interesting but not very useful to…anyone. Or at least that’s what I thought. Turns out my research wasn’t far off, at least according to some secret government organisations. I suppose the Cold War has made the Americans and the Russians research some strange things, and they both have eyes everywhere. They even managed to pick up on my little project. The day I graduated with my PhD, just as I left the hall I was accosted by some strange men in black suits. They asked if they could talk to me about some promising new research I could be involved in.

Today I actually get to start. So it turns out the Russian government got to me first, I now work for an organisation called Omega though I’m not exactly sure what it’s about yet. Something about different dimensions. They did say that my research was very relevant so I’m excited. I arrive at outpost 25 in the A Shau Valley of Vietnam at exactly 6 a.m., not too early for me, thankfully. I’m escorted from the helicopter by a soldier, I didn’t quite catch his name but I don’t suppose that matters really. “Dr Peck should be here to meet you shortly.” He salutes me before leaving me alone in the room. My first impression of the facility is that I’m not going to be living the life of luxury…the place looks like it was built in a few weeks with little budget and no regard for safety regulations. All the buildings appear to be made of corrugated metal sheets with a little bit of plasterboard for insulation. My eyes scan the perimeter looking for any signs of the actual work that takes place here, but the facility seems new, I’m not quite sure yet.

My thoughts are interrupted as I see a man in a white lab coat walk into the room, he looks quite a lot older than me, fine lines etched into the skin around his eyes, maybe from stress. He has brown hair, receding slightly. “You must be Dr Peck?” I ask, standing, moving my suitcase behind me and extending my hand for him to shake.

“Yeah, and you’re Dr Brandt? Little young?” He replies in a strong American accent, looking down at my hand, not reaching out with his own. I let out an awkward laugh, putting my hand back down to my side.

“Yeah I’m uh…25. I-is that okay?” He scowls back at me.

“I mean there’s no age requirement, I just want to know you’re qualified for this research project. I don’t just wanna let any little girl that waltzes in have access to my research.” God, someone got out of the wrong side of bed this morning, still I try not to let it discourage me.

“Uh, well Dr Peck. I assume you have read my file and know of my research, if you feel I am under qualified to be a part of this project then that is your own decision. However I would appreciate being permitted to begin working here and prove myself to you. If after this time you still believe me to be of no value to you, then I will happily leave.” I cough, trying to keep my composure. He huffs before reaching out his hand to shake mine.

“Well I suppose you do have some balls kid, I’ll give you a chance.” I take his hand, he gives it a firm shake before gesturing to me to walk with him.

We exit the building, walking over to the next, labelled scientist quarters. “You’ll be working directly under me, along with Dr Kuhlklay. I’ll show you to your room and then I’ll have to leave you, busy job.”

He walks me over to a small room with glass windows facing the hallway. The sign outside says ‘Dr Alvarie Irina Brandt’, nice it's spelled correctly. He opens the door for me, giving me the key card. “Here you go, the next room over is Dr Kuhlklay. To close the window shutter it's this button here.” He presses a small red button next to the window, metal shutters crash down, blocking the view. I think I’ll just keep those down. “You should have everything you need, lab coat is over there or you can just wear one you already have, I don’t care. Name tag is on the desk. If you need anything, don’t ask me, I’m far too fucking busy for admin work.” He walks over to the door and leaves before poking his head back in. “Meet me in the conference room at 4pm, don’t be fucking late.” He finally leaves, closing the door after himself.

“Lovely.” I mutter to myself, throwing my suitcase down on the bed. I take a look into the wardrobe to see the labcoat, it's good quality but it definitely will not fit my figure…I’ll just wear my own, good job I brought it. I walk back over to the bed, opening up my suitcase to start putting some of my things away. They didn’t allow me to bring much, I’ve got some clothes: mainly turtle necks, shirts and suit trousers, there’s a few other items such as pyjamas as well as undergarments. I was permitted to bring through my own toiletries thankfully, I doubt the ones here are any good. They let me bring some documents of my old research but only paper, no digital files. I start to put away my clothes into the small wardrobe, still big enough to fit my small volume of garments. Next I put all my books in the cabinet underneath my desk, and place my toiletries in the little basket I brought to take to the bathroom when I need to. “Done, nice. Now what?” I mutter to myself, looking around.

Maybe I’ll have a walk around? I really need to find out where that conference room is. I pull out my lab coat from the wardrobe, slipping it on before attaching my new name tag. Next I go over to the door, opening it. As I walk out I immediately bump into someone. “Извините меня!” He squeaks out as my face collides with his torso.

“No-no, it’s okay. I didn’t look where I was going.” I reply quickly in Russian, shaking my head before looking up at his name tag. “Oh you’re Dr Kuhlklay!”

He leans back to have a look at my name tag. “And you’re Dr Brandt. I thought you were English?” I tilt my head in confusion. “You were just speaking Russian and you have a German name, you’re confusing.” I giggle awkwardly.

“Oh my family is German and uh..I learned Russian when I was given the job here. I wanted to be able to understand everyone better.” He nods, seemingly in approval.

“Well you’ve done more than Peck. I assume you’ve met him, our ‘boss’.” I nod.

“Yeah he just left, showed me to my room.”

“Sorry about him, he’s just a Мудак, but you’ll get used to it.” I give back a meek smile. “I can give you a quick tour if you like, the facility isn’t too big but it can be a bit of a maze.” Nodding excitedly I agree before quickly calming myself down.

“Yeah, sounds great! Sorry- I’m just a little excited. I’ve never worked anywhere like this before.” He gives a low chuckle, waving his hand as if to waft away my concerns.

We begin to walk. “I understand, is this your first time ever being evolved in something like this? A top secret project.”

“Oh yeah, I mean I only just graduated two years ago… I’m still not entirely sure why they let me on this project, I don’t even know what it is.” His eyes widen at this.

“You only graduated two years ago!? I thought you seemed young…” I look up at him.

“I know I am young but it doesn’t mean I won’t work hard.” He hums.

“Maybe it's what we need, a fresh set of eyes.” I smile back at him.

“Thanks for the encouragement Dr Kuhlklay.”

“Please-“ he interrupts. “Call me Dimitri, no need for the formalities.”

“Then you may call me Alvarie, but not around Peck. I don’t want him to think any less of me than he already does.”

“Sure Alvarie. Anyway, the meeting at 4pm is in the room right here. It’s actually right next to the kitchen so you can just come there to eat with me after the meeting if you would like.” I tilt my head, smiling.

“Sounds good Dimitri, thanks for being so welcoming.” We keep walking, he points out where the scientists' bathrooms are as well as some of the lab stations. After that we say goodbye. I head back to my room to do some reading before the meeting, trying to understand what’s actually going on here.

[fuck-i-dont-know]

approaching my 30s but i feel less like myself or maybe just the person i want to be every day and it's been like this since i started graduate school

i have a phd now but for what

i'm doing a postdoc but i can't bring myself to get into the research and maybe i'm just tired of the lab

i'm an adjunct professor too which is cool but i just can't get myself to do shit until i need to and maybe that's because of stupid grad school habits i developed but my students deserve better even if they don't know they do

i'm so tired

i'm getting married and i'm just having a small ceremony but i'm feeling pressured to have a larger ceremony at some point but it's so fucking hard to plan and it doesn't help that there's never a good time and any time that works just feels like. idk. a curse. because i hate the number six but i can't avoid it for some reason

felt ugly trying on wedding dresses. just wanted something simple. mom hates all the simple looking dresses. cool.

tired of not being able to tell how much of what i want is what society tells me i should want and how much is what i actually want

just want to sign the papers and get it over with because isn't that what matters

why did i even spend $200 on a dress. i don't even care that's less than the thousands of dollars people apparently spend on wedding dresses. why did i even do that. what a waste of money. it was the budget and i stuck to it but i still feel sick thinking about it.

don't want to have children. not even sure i want to adopt. but i definitely don't want to bring another life into this world. i never even wanted to be brought into this world so why would i do that to someone else

it's not like i always hate existing just sometimes i do and i don't want to bring a new life into this world only for them to turn out like me

even if they don't turn out like me. this world is so fucked up. it just feels wrong.

guess i just need to get these thoughts out. i don't have anyone i feel like i can talk to about these things anymore. i have good friends but not friends i can tell these things to. don't know why i can't do it anymore. exhausting i guess. the only person i talk to every day is my partner. maybe that's not healthy. but it's exhausting to talk to anyone else that much. i can't tell him these things or he'll just be upset too. he doesn't like it when i'm sad. but sometimes i just am.

[rin-the-cat]

I've started back at my old clinic on an extremely part-time basis (just Friday afternoons.) I've missed it so much but even the 5 hours left me limping. I may have to ask if I can just cover the lab. My hope is that after I graduate from school I can work like 2 days a week, lab only, and the do some substitute teaching and work on some kind of side hustle as well.

When I went in today there was a card on my locker from all the doctors thanking me for coming back and someone had drawn a smiley face next to my name on the assignment board. I have never worked anywhere else were I've felt so appreciated. 😭 When I left I had assumed that the wouldn't agree to me being in the lab 100% of the time but I'm starting to think the would have. Maybe I should have asked but then again, I have enjoyed school so much that I can't call it a waste of time.

[mysticmousecat]

Can you please please pleasseee do an angsty viktor x reader where the reader believes he's in love with someone else like full on Heather by Conan Gray vibes

I love writing angst so much. I don’t think I’m very good at it but I like it, so sure I’ll give it a shot. Enjoy some angsty reader with a happy ending because I don't do sad endings.

Title: Perception of perfection (Spicy)

Rating: M

Words: 4k

Warnings: ANGST! Implied Sexual Content

You hadn’t been sure when you’d fallen for Viktor, it had been easy, natural. It wasn’t like one day he was your best friend and the next you were pining over him like you were a teenager again, it was more like every day you would notice something else about him that made your heart race, like the way he was so patient and thorough when explaining a project or theory to you, or how he focused so intently when he was working, his expression the picture of perfect concentration, or you’d noticed how endearing it was when he was sleep deprived and delirious and the two of you would have the most absurd conversations. It was the little things, something new every time you saw him until eventually everything he did made your heart speed up, made your skin flushed and warm, made your lungs stop working, you’d always loved Viktor, it was just now that love had morphed from a love between friends to a love that made your chest burn and seared your skin every time he touched you.

Of course, telling him how you felt was completely out of the question, how exactly were you supposed to broach the topic of “hey by the way I’m madly in love with you and I have no idea what to do about it”? So, you kept your feelings to yourself, tried to pretend everything was normal and as it should be… until it wasn’t anymore.

Students and interns were not an abnormal sight in the lab, they came in either because a class required them to get a certain number of hours in an actual established engineering lab or because they were recently graduated and were interning as prep for really getting into the field. Jayce and Viktor happily opened their lab up for these things, seeing it as an opportunity to teach the next generation. This was where it all started.

She was an intern, and a damn good one at that. Her name was something like Hannah or Patricia, something along those lines, you hadn’t actually taken the time to try and memorize it, much more concerned with her very sudden and very clear interest in Viktor. At first, you’d been amused, you’d seen many students and interns come into the lab and take a liking to him, little crushes here and there, you’d pass groups of girls in the hallways taking about how they found Viktor to have his own kind of charm, and how most of the girls and many of the boys found Viktor to be quite handsome, to which sure, you had to agree. She had been different though, what started at first being amusement at, yet another crush, turned into the sudden realization that he wasn’t turning away any of her advancements. He smiled at her, encouraged her, let her distract him. And the worst part? You couldn’t hate her. She wasn’t some generic mean girl trying to steal your man, because one, he wasn’t your man, he was still just your best friend, and two, she was likeable, she was friendly and open and bright and actively enjoying holding conversations with you over your similar interests, in fact the two of you had quite a bit in common, other than the fact that she was quite a bit younger than you and Viktor.

Girls like her weren’t supposed to be nice! They weren’t supposed to be genuinely smart or pleasant! They were supposed to be your rival, they were supposed to be conniving and deceptive! That’s probably why it hurt so much more when you began to notice Viktor accepting her attractions, because you couldn’t fault him for it, this girl had no animosity toward you, she wasn’t trying to hurt you, she was just following her heart, as was he, every time you saw him look at her for maybe just a little too long, stand maybe just a little bit too close, call her name with a softness he never reserved for other interns.

Her name was Emily, you'd come to learn. Emily was bright and beautiful and full of energy. She shined like the sun and had a smile that had an almost contagious affect. You really wished you could hate her, really wished there was some quality of hers that made her not so... fucking perfect. You found yourself watching her, trying to see exactly what it was that made Viktor take such a liking to her, was it her sing songy voice? Was it her passion to learn? Was it her perfect hair and even more impressive physique? Was it her age? She was 25, and while you would still consider yourself young and in your prime, you weren't 25 anymore. Neither was Viktor now that you thought about it, you'd never taken him as someone who would be interested in younger women, but here he was, practically flirting with an intern as he explained exactly what the project he was working on did, going into very vivid detail about every single cog and spring. Normally you would love to listen to him go on about what he was doing, but right now, with Emily right there listening just as intently, you found it instead put a rock in your chest.

He wouldn't notice if you left, neither would she more than likely, so that's what you did, or tried to. You were at the door when Viktor's voice stalled you.

"(y/n), leaving so soon?" Of course, he'd noticed, he noticed everything. His voice did strange things to you, hearing him say your name sent sparks up your spine, but his voice also made the rock in your chest grow heavier, you felt the pain in the back of your throat you had been trying to ignore for weeks, felt the sting of tears that you'd refused to let fall in the past. You kept your voice steady when you responded, but you didn't turn, instead just keeping your hand on the door handle, your grip possibly a little tighter than it needed to be.

"Yeah," you said meekly. "I have some work I have to get done." And that's how you left it, opening the door and stepping out before anyone could argue. It was true, you did have work to do, how much you'd be able to focus on it was a different question, however. You kept your head down as you traversed the hallways of the academy, trying to avoid contact with anyone who didn't absolutely require your immediate attention.

"(y/n)?" Fuck. You stopped in your tracks, of course it would be Jayce to find you, and of course he would stop you. You did your best to collect yourself and cover what few emotions you let slip into your expression, attempting to portray the perfect appearance of calm and composed. You turned to greet your friend, who, by the look on his face, knew you were very much not okay, but you were going to fake it until you made it or die trying. "You okay?"

"Of course, why do you ask?" You chirped cheerily, trying to make your voice sound sweet but in your ears, it sounded sickeningly so. Like artificial sugar. Your words put a bitter taste in your mouth.

"You just seem... off." Jayce said, he was being cautious, like he was talking to a frightened deer, like if he spoke too loudly, you'd run away... you might.

"Nope, I am A-okay, promise." Jayce was the worst person to run into, because you'd known him just as long as you'd known Viktor, and you knew Jayce knew you just as well as Viktor did. Jayce was smart, too smart, and he knew about your feelings for his partner, he'd figured it out pretty quick and never missed an opportunity to tease you about it, with Viktor not in the room of course. You knew he'd connect the dots quickly.

"(y/n) is this about-"

"Please." You felt a small part of your facade break, the mask you had so carefully constructed cracking. He saw it too, but he didn't ask further. "I have um- a lot of work to do today. I should really get to it." Your voice cracked in the middle of your excuse, but you didn't care, you just wanted to get as far away from this conversation as possible, because Jayce was always good at making you crack, he knew exactly which buttons to press to make you give up all of your secrets, and the worst part of that is that he would never judge you, never tell you that you were being irrational, never tell you that you were getting too worked up over a simple crush, because he knew better, he knew it wasn't a simple crush and he knew you way too fucking well. Who gave him the right to be a good friend?

He let you walk away, but you could feel his eyes on you as you rounded the corner. You knew he would question you about this later, knew he'd be more than willing to be a shoulder to cry on, but right now you just needed a minute, needed silence and stillness and something to pull you mind away from your heartache. You may have shut your bedroom door a little too hard as you went to lean back against it, you finally felt your knees give out, sinking to the floor, quite ungracefully you might add. It was like a hurricane in your chest, so many emotions and thoughts ricocheting inside your sternum. You let the tears fall this time, let yourself feel what you'd been trying to push deeper and deeper down for weeks. You let the mask fall, let it crack and shatter as it hit the floor. You'd empty your jar of feelings, poor it all out of the floor as you sucked in a breath, then tomorrow the jar would be fresh, ready to be filled again, and you'd keep doing this, until it didn't hurt so fucking bad.

You picked yourself up off the floor after a few minutes, you needed to do something, anything to refocus your mind on something that wasn't mahogany colored hair or amber eyes. A shower was what you needed, just to let the water cascade off of you, maybe it would take away some of the pain with it, drag it down the drain to be a problem somewhere else. And you had to admit, it did help a little, to feel the warm spray on your skin, let it soak you to your bones, run your fingers through your hair, clean the tear tracks from your cheeks. You didn't necessarily feel refreshed afterward, but you felt human again. You changed into your sleep clothes; it was midafternoon, but you doubted you'd be leaving your room for the rest of the day. Just a loose tank top, and some shorts you would never be caught dead in in public. Physically you were comfortable, mentally was another story, but you were trying to forget about that for right now. You did actually have some work to do. You placed yourself at your desk, pulled your legs up to cross in front of you, and got to work, because everyone loves grading exams with a broken heart. It took you an hour to get through one, ONE! You'd spent the entire time getting lost in thoughts, thoughts of 'what if Viktor ask's her out?' and 'what if they start seeing each other, would you be able to handle that?' the answer was no, you would not be able to handle that. You would break and you'd let it happen because it meant he'd be happy and despite the fact that it hurt you so much, you cared more about him feeling content than you did about wanting to keep him for yourself.

You'd never been a jealous person really, and even now you wouldn't really call this jealousy, it was more just a heavy sadness, a weight deep in your bones and sat in your stomach. It was the feeling of any hope you'd had previously dying. You weren't jealous, you were just sad. You wondered what it would be like to trade places with Emily, to be her for a day, to have so much of Viktor's gaze on you, to have him admire you the way he admired her, look at you like you were as beautiful as she was. She was better. She won. You passed a glance toward your window, taking a double take when you noticed the lack of sunlight. When did it get dark?

A knock at your door ripped you from your thoughts, startling you enough to drop your pen onto your desk. You took a deep breath before answering. "Come in." You shouted, despite being in a slightly better mood, you were still in no mood to talk, and you had a feeling you knew exactly who this was without even turning around.

"Jayce, I'm really not in the mood to talk about my feelings, while I appreciate the shoulder to cry on, I assure you I am all cried out." You said when you heard the door open. It was quiet for a moment, and you were about to turn to greet your friend when a different voice halted you.

"Then why not talk about them with me?" Fuck was really becoming your favorite word, wasn't it? You actually felt your heard drop into your stomach, you couldn't move, just stayed put, eyes glued to the paper on your desk. You racked your brain for something to say, tried to find your voice somewhere, but you were greeted with nothing but silence. You heard the sound of the door closing and the telltale sound of a cane tapping on your floor before he came to a stop somewhere in your room, you still hadn't turned to see exactly where he was, somewhere close, you were sure of it. Finally, you found some words.

"Done for the day?" You asked, fighting against yourself to keep your voice steady. What was Viktor doing here? What did he want? The rational side of your brain told you he was probably just worried about his friend and came to check on you, but the other part of your brain, the louder part of your brain, supplied the horrific idea that he knew, that he was here because he knew how you felt and was here to break your heart even more than it was already shattered.

"With work, yes." His voice was so calm, nonchalant like he had not a bother in the world. "However, there is something much more... personal, that I feel I must address." Now was not the time to cry! Literally any other time would have been more appropriate, but you felt the sting behind your eyes before you could fight it, it was at this moment you were glad you weren't facing the other direction, because you weren't sure what you'd do if Viktor saw you like this.

You forced your voice to remain even. "Really? And what would that be?" You mind was whirling, the hurricane in your chest starting up again like it had never quelled, ripping your insides apart with every breath you dragged into your lungs. You heard his cane against the floor again, his gentle footsteps coming closer and closer, until you were sure he was standing right behind you.

"It has come to my attention," He started, you felt his hands grip the back of the chair, his fingertips ever so gently ghosting over your back in the process, searing your skin, making every single nerve in your body light up, a touch that was so light but managed to do so much damage. "That I have a point to make." You let those words hang in the air for a moment, let your mind spin, let it come up with all of the painful words that were about to leave his lips, preparing yourself for the absolute devastation he was about to inflict upon you by also using the kindest words known to the English language to do it. However, when he didn't continue, it was clear he was waiting for you to respond.

"And what point is that?" You choked out, it was barely above a whisper, you were pretty certain you couldn't speak louder if you'd wanted to. You were trembling, struggling to catch your breath as the tears in your eyes threatened to fall, you were holding onto your composure by a thread, and it was a thread that was getting thinner and thinner every second. It snapped the second you felt his fingertips glide up your spine, painfully slow, painfully gentle, splitting you open with just a single touch. With just that one touch he managed to shatter your already crumbling facade, break it down and expose the tender flesh underneath. Your hand came up to try and muffle the sound of your sharp intake of breath as the tears fell. His hand was gentle on your skin, coming up to rest on your shoulder, his thumb grazing the skin of your neck in soothing motions, you leaned into his touch. Viktor would always be able to soothe you, with his touch, his voice, his words, he always knew exactly what to say, he always knew what you needed, that was one of the things that made you fall for him in the first place. You took a deep breath, the tears stopped, and you felt your breaths even out. The trembling in your shoulders stopped, but Viktor never removed his hand from you, instead letting his fingertips trail up your neck until they reached your jaw, then trailing them back down again, tracing invisible circles into your skin. You heard Viktor take a breath before he spoke again, his voice careful, quiet, just loud enough for you to hear.

"(y/n)," Your name always sounded so sweet on his lips. "Look at me." You let his request linger for a moment before you began to turn, you craned your head up to meet his gaze, it was soft and gentle and kind and overwhelming. His eyes traced your face, he looked at your red rimmed eyes, the tear tracks down your cheeks, your flushed appearance, his hand came to cradle your jaw, go gentle and so careful, like if he moved too fast, you'd break, he tilted your head up just ever so slightly more. "How is it that you're always so beautiful?" He asked, his eyes once again finding yours. You didn't know how to respond, didn't think you could even if you did, your voice lost in your thoughts. The way he was looking at you right now wasn't any way he'd ever looked at you before, you didn't even have words for it. His gaze was too much for you to handle, so you shut your eyes, tried to take a breath, finding you lungs full of cotton. "(y/n), talk to me."

"Viktor," you finally started, finding your voice, as weak as it may be. "What are you trying to do here?" Your voice was shaking, but there was nothing you could do about that.

"I'm trying to make a point."

"What point?"

"That the only woman I'm in love with is sitting right in front of me right now." The words washed over you like ice water, everything stopped, your breathing, your heart, the wind outside, everything came to a halt, and then it was moving again, way too fast. Your eyes snapped open and found his. "And I have every intention of making sure you never forget that."

"What about Emily?" Suddenly you'd found your voice full force. Viktor looked at you inquisitively before letting out an amused huff.

"I tell you I'm in love with you and you ask about another woman?" He asked, a highly entertained glint in his eyes.

"It's just," You tried to collect your thoughts. "You'd seemed pretty infatuated with her since you met her. What was I supposed to think?"

"You really want to know why I like her so much?"

"Yes."

Viktor seemed to ponder his response, trying to find the perfect way to word it. "Because she reminds me of you." You swear you actually felt the spear pierce your chest at that. He wasn't in love with his intern, the only reason he seemed like he was in love with his intern was because she reminded him of you, and he was actually in love with you. Those words finally sank in. He said he was in love with you. You actually forgot how to breathe, leaning forward and resting your head against his sternum.

"Say it again." Your voice was barely more than a whisper.

"Which part?"

"You know which part."

Viktor was quiet for a moment, before a hand came to rest on your back, ghosting up and down the top of your spine. "I love you." You swallowed hard, melting into his touch. You felt your emotional exhaustion, it crashed into you in waves.

"I love you too." The words were muffled against where you had buried yourself against his stomach.

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that, I think you may need to move closer." You heard the teasing tone in his voice, for the first time, it brough a smile to your lips. You stood slowly; afraid your knees would buckle. You placed your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, letting them drag forward to wrap around his neck, one of his arms came to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer, the other gripped tightly on his cane. You were barely and inch from him, just a breath closer and your lips would be on his.

"I love you." You whispered against his lips, the ecstasy of finally being able to say it out loud flowing through you. He smiled, a warm smile that made your heart beat a little faster, if that was even possible.

"I know." You're not sure who moved first, all you knew was the feeling of his lips on yours and the adrenaline coursing through your veins. Everything fell into place as you pulled him closer, a hand coming down from his neck to grip his tie, forcing him flush against you, his tongue brushed against yours and you felt yourself melt. You kissed him harder, it was desperate and heated and passionate, but it was perfect. He backed you up against the desk, giving you room to hoist yourself up onto it, pushing papers to the ground in the process, you'd worry about those later. He came to stand between your legs, one of his hands lying flat on its surface to steady himself, the other coming to rest on the underside of one of your exposed thighs, dragging up until he reached the hem of your sleep shorts, pushing the slightest bit underneath them before dragging his nails back down your leg, drawing a pleasured hiss from your lips, pulling your mouth away from his, giving him the opportunity to attach his lips to your jaw, sucking hard before trailing kisses down your neck, following the same path he had with his fingers not long before. You tilted your head back to give him more ample access, gasping when he nipped at just the right spot.

"Viktor," Your voice stalled him, he circled his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to the edge of the desk, wrapping your legs around his waist, feeling his arousal against yours, it was almost enough to make you forget what you were going to say. Almost. "As fun as desk sex sounds," a broken moan fell from your lips as he rolled his hips against yours. "There is a perfectly useable bed not fifteen feet away."

"Lead the way." Viktor smiled as he connected your lips again, this kiss was much sweeter, you could almost call it innocent if you didn't feel just how hard he was against you. Any exhaustion you felt was forgotten, because you had every intention of seeing just how many sounds Viktor could make, and you had a feeling it was going to take quite a while.

~~~~~~

Let me know if you guys want an NSFW bonus chapter to this, I will happily write it