#and if i don’t pass it i don’t know what to do. it’s a prereq for at least one class next semester probably multiple and if it’s multiple

[pallases]

hm.

#technically this is not irreparable. if i get a 70 on the next exam and an 80 on the final i will pass. BUT the likelihood of that happening #is so fucking low i don’t know what to do lmfao i have never in my life done this bad in a class. i cant keep running to the river to sob my #eyes out over fucking physics this is ridiculous. but also i really really REALLY don’t want to drop it if there’s even a chance of me #passing bc it’s a prereq for one of my classes next semester. and that class is 4 credits and we’re only allowed to take 3 credits alongside #our co op which is bullshit but what am i supposed to do abt it. so if i withdraw i’d need to push back my graduation when it’s already #fucking pushed back thanks to this being a five year program and i cannot afford to do that. el oh el #personal #the physics chronicles

[m0chisenpai]

Far From Home

Spiderman Across the Spiderverse

42!Miles Morales x black!reader

Warning(s): nothing too crazy. just a bit of cursing and mentions of death and violence

Part One

You're now far from home and trapped from it.

A universe away pales in comparison to missing a small stop, or turning at the wrong corner.

You're in a world where your existence isn't meant to be. The one who you loved, a version of him, is much more cruel. But you can't fault him. A product of fates twisted game.

Miles and Aaron are both smart and from what you can hear and see they try and form some plan as to why you are here.

So Aaron is the one who keeps you for the time being. His apartment has a spare room and it's decent enough. The bed is comfortable, it’s warm and shields the cold nip that seems to never go with each passing day.

During your second week here, Miles enters your room to

You don’t know what lies Miles weaves to tell his mom, but when you come by she holds you tight and presses you to her chest. Says it's a miracle how you survived the incident. 

And you remember how Miles looked down at you with those hard brown eyes earlier and dared you to try and tell his Ma you weren’t her. 

So instead you just hug her tightly and bask in her love, because something tells you it's very sparse around here. This worlds Brooklyn is more rough, it's not as lively, no one smiles like they used to. Instead people clutch their bags to themselves tightly and walk faster.

She chides at you to come and sit and she’s feeding you a meal that warms your soul and tastes like home. Meanwhile Miles watches you, waits. But you play your part well. 

She tells you your Aunt and Uncle have both passed and it's no surprise. According to the psycho leader of the multiverse club it’s a prereq that comes with the mask. Something you began to wish you didn't pick up. You wonder if Miles, your Miles, is watching over your Uncle back home. 

You wonder if he's looking for you.

Has anyone begun to notice you were gone for a little bit too long?

Your uncle worked alongside Mr.Morales, but with him gone who would you stay with? And Aaron chimes in, how he would would be more than happy to let you stay with him.

So you thank thank him and flash him a smile with all the bitterness sitting in how you force your eyes into a smile. 

"I gues sit what pops would have wanted, right?" you mumble around a spoon full of rice.

Aaron feels some sense of calm in having your presence here. You had just as much bite as she once did. So for now, he'll let your presence soothe the hole that once ate at him.

Miles won't put his hands on you. You learned that the first two times you tried to claw at him when he entered your room i the first week of your imprisonment here. He brushes you off and brings you breakfast. You throw it at his back and he easily dodges.

But slowly his patience is being run thin. Because now he's stopped bringing you the meals. Aaron begins to. He gives you a hard stare as he sets it on the desk. You learned that Aaron wasn't as patient as his nephew because when you throw it at him that was your fist and last meal of the day.

Exhaustion not only eats away from being starved, but the constant questioning about how you got here. That damn watch that Hobi shoved o your wrist, that you've hidden beneath the floorboards.

"That thing got you here, how." Aaron and Miles stand before you on the couch as you fiddle with the bracelet.

"It didn't. It keeps me from glitching. If I don't keep it on, I'll glitch out." Miles doesn't want to know what that meas but he can tell by the grim look on your face as you look down on the bracelet.

"So if that didn't get you here, what did then?"

"Someone else had a bracelet and shoved me here. Tech isn't my thing, I prefer chemicals But you know that right?" your eyes cut up to him and he's giving you that weird cross between a smile and a smirk.

"Yeah. You do mi reina."

Your hands rub at the bruises on your wrists, hidden behind white bandages. 

Breakfast paints the side of the door and glass sits at the entrance. And when Miles enters he stops for a moment looking down at what was meant to pierce the soles of his feet.

"This a new one today baby. You're getting feistier" he steps over the trap without a care, hands stuck in his pockets after kicking the door shut.

"I want to go home...I need to go home..." your voice cracks as you curl your body more into itself in the bed. Eyes watching the sun paint golden from the window.

You seem to be speaking to nothing and at the same time, someone. But your eyes don't move as he sits himself next to your limp body. You took a shower today, he can tell but he sweet smell of vanilla and the faint red splotches on your arms.

You're improving from refusing to care for yourself for the last two weeks. Was it two weeks? No it was three right? What's the point in counting. No point. All you know is after a certain point, you think Miles forgot you were out their.

"I know baby" his hands are gentle in brush through your hair. Slowly tugging away knots. He mumbles something under his breath says he'll take you out to get it braided down. But you don't find it in yourself to jump in joy like you normally would have.

"I love you, you know?"

Silence. And his hands are left empty as you move away from him pressing your body more into the ball. His heart leaps. Last week he said it and you told him to eat shit and die. But you're not biting back as much. You're...improving.

He can't help the smile as he pulls the covers up on your body. "Don't forget your bonnet baby." He presses a kiss to the back of your hand which falls limp in front of your face.

Once walking out, Aaron stands next to the door holding his mask which he tosses to Miles as the two walk into his living room.

"How's she doing?"

"Better. I think we can move forward."

But Miles wasn't always the brightest. At least he wasn't. Because he should've been watching your eyes, how they were calculating. Watching his every move, analyzing. He might of been the prowler. But you were a spider stalking it's prey, watching him slowly approach your web in ignorance.

And you would wait until the opportunity struck, to strike and get home.

#miles morales x spidergirl!reader #earth42!miles x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #42!milesmorales x reader #earth 42!miles morales x reader #miles morales x reader #satsv

[tiktaalic]

hiiii i'm a freshman undergrad and i <3 bio but i'm failing gen chem so hard and i don't enjoy the classes at all. i would love to give up on chem but even if i chose a major that didn't require it, a lot of the cool bio classes have chem prereqs. do you have any tips on how to love/tolerate/pass chemistry

Chemistry is a tolerate one to me unfortunately . I did Okay in genchem but I did have to reteach myself stoich literally every time it came up it just would not stick for me. I remember it being a lot of math and My problem is that I rush through math problems and make careless mistakes that my brain glosses over so I don’t notice them. A lot of times colleges will have tutoring centers available for chemistry and that helped me a looooooot in ochem. I would definitely see if that kind of help is available and if it is do your homework there and have the tutors double check your work and walk you through problems. I did a lot of like. Writing stuff out step by step and scribbling notes on problems. Treating hw problems as example problems in that I would take them line by line and write out in words what I was doing and why so I could go back and understand it. It might also help to make a master sheet of equations just so you can rattle down the line you know? If you have more specific q’s or details you’re more than welcome to msg me off anon!

#anonymous #ask

[mallowstep]

Genetics ask! I know that male torties/torbies are very rare and caused by a genetic mutation, but with those who do exist, are there any prerequisites with their parents? I’m assuming they’d have to carry the red gene since tortoiseshell is one red, one not-red, but I barely know anything. And based on this, is it better to just headcanon cats like Redtail as biologically female?

alright! hello, anon.

since i had to do more research than usual for this one, reminder that:

i am not an expert. i can and will be wrong. you can find my self-corrections under #corrections, but those are only things i or others have noticed, and that i've had the time to write a correction to and explain.

disclaimers out of the way, let's talk about tortie toms. (and torbie toms, and calico toms, it's all the same deal.)

if you know how ginger works, you can skip the next few paragraphs.

orange (ginger, red, etc.) is sex-linked in cats. what this means is that the gene that causes orange cats is on the x chromosome. it is also codominant, which means that having an orange x chromosome (Xo) and a non-orange x chromosome (X) is not black or orange, but both.

basically:

X or XX: black

Xo or XoXo: orange

XXo: tortoiseshell

yeah?

now, for the rest of this post, i'm going to be writing O and o instead of Xo and X because it's one less character and i don't run the risk of putting three x chromosomes together.

okay. so because torties need two x chromosomes, they're typically female. the way tortie itself works is basically, cells activate one of the genes (O or o) at random, creating patches. so you need two copies.

wikipedia says about a third of male torties have klinefelter's, which is the XXY karyotype. while this does have physical changes associated with it, the only way to confirm (humans have) klinefelter's is to test it genetically.

luckily, cats are very helpful about demonstrating it. what with them being tortie and all.

(we're also lumping in the variations of klinefelter's here. you can get XXYY, etc., and they all fit into the same broad idea.)

anyway, the extra x chromosome can come from either the mother or the father. this makes tortie toms...not quite easier, since the prereqs are the same, but y'know. if mom is Oo, dad doesn't matter. if mom is OO, dad has to be o, and if mom is oo, dad has to be O. same rules as usual.

XXY toms are going to be...not sterile, but pretty infertile. using human stats, about 50% can produce sperm, although the likelihood of them having kits is still low. humans with klinefelter's are also taller than average, so keep that in mind.

again, and this might be a correction on my part, i can't remember, but tortie toms aren't strictly going to be visibly different than other toms.

okay, so most people stop at klinefelter's, but there are two other ways to get tortie toms: mosiacism and chimerism. these are often confused/combined, but because i strive for generally being accurate, i'll go over them both.

mosaic cats carry multiple genetic lines, because of a mutation. this can either be somatic (happens in the body, is not hereditary), or germline (happens in reproductive cells of parents, is hereditary).

this is not always a gain of a line, you can lose a chromosome as well. the difference between somatic and germline and how it affects torties goes over my head, so i'm not going to speak to it, other than i'm pretty sure we're talking about somatic mosaicism. i think. again, not a biologist or geneticist, just a hobbyist with an internet connection.

right, so what happens is basically, some cells lose their extra x chromosome, giving you a cat with karyotype XXY/XY. these cats are more likely to be fertile and generally have less effects of klinefelter's. i'm not entirely sure how this affects tortie presentation, if at all, but it does happen.

i suppose you could also have some kind of mutation that gives you an extra x spontaneously, but that would be unlikely to cause torties, because it would also have to mutate into the other O allele.

again, i really want to stress that while i'm not bullshitting, i'm also not speaking definitively here.

last up is chimerism, where two embryos fuse in the womb, creating mixed genes.

i'm using a picture of a dog, here, because this is what goes through my head when i think of chimeras. you'll have to take my word for it, but while this would be a normal tortie cat, it can't really happen in dogs without some kind of mutation. and chimerism, given the extent of the patching, is pretty likely.

right! chimera torties are going to be, afaik, normal levels of fertile, although it's likely that they can pass on either black or red, not both.

(while i'm here, before we move on, there are a lot of types of chimeras. this type is called tetragametic chimerism, and it's rare in humans but more common in other animals. it's hard to know how common it is, because the differences are often very subtle, and hard to test. it's also not mutually exclusive with mosaics or klinefelter's, just to really muddy the waters.)

i don't have statistics for how common mosaics and chimeras are, and there's always, "a different type of mutation that doesn't fall into this category"

for mosaics and chimeras, the rules for inheritance seem to be the same as for klinefelter's. there's the added note that, because there can be multiple sires within one litter, a ginger queen could have kits with a ginger tom, and get a tortie son, as long as she also...ahem...with a black(/brown, etc.) tom. (or vice versa, with all brown and a ginger.)

okay! so that's basically how it happens.

as for the second part of this question, well. "is it better?" is a matter of opinion. i don't think anyone is wrong for having tortie toms. i don't care. (a) it is possible, and (b) we're all just having fun.

i, personally, do not think redtail is karyotype XX, because i like him being sandstorm's father with brindleface. idk. i like brindleface. yes, i know this raises huge genetic problems, and it's not very canon. i don't really care. i read that redtail fic where he thinks about sand&brindle as he's dying and it hasn't left me.

that said, i'm still a sucker for trans redtail. love it. idk, this is kind of hard to explain. like? it's not my headcanon, but i still appreciate it.

anyway! to the point: if you care about statistics and likelihoods and how many tortie toms you've had in the clan, yes, you're probably better off saving your chromosome anomalies for when they need to have kits, and using XX karyotype for the rest.

(under the cut: matthew rambles about trans cats and gender identity for a while)

i'm pretty sure cats don't have the western concept of gender. i don't think they have a human concept of gender, either, but at some point i need to be able to pin down something, and i think a third/fourth gender is closer to what they have.

i've been thinking about this a lot lately, because i decided i wasn't satisfied with my old approach to trans cats. i can do better than that. i decided cats don't have gendered pronouns, so why should the solution be, "trans cats don't really get to do anything about it"

no. i am dissatisfied with that.

at the same time, for specific reasons: i also don't think cats are trans in the western sense of the word.

because if for nothing else, remember that cat sexual dimorphism has a bigger effect on their life than in humans.

like, queens are going to be uncomfortable around male cats they don't hella trust and their kits. that doesn't go away if said male cat isn't a tom. y'know?

i'm in a constant state of tweaks with this, because i basically: form opinion, test opinion, refine opinion. my initial opinion was too harsh. and!

part of what's changed is i decided i wanted fernsong to be able to raise his kits in the nursery instead of ivypool. so i had to adjust how i think the nursery and queens work, slightly, to permit for that. now, i can turn back to gender and think about it some more.

i'm not going to coin any new terms, because i'm not in that kind of mood, but i think there is some idea of a female cat who is not a she-cat. i don't think the cats would call them a tom, but i'm not sure what they would say or how they would describe it.

i think they would just, on some level, get it.

actually okay you know what! i do need some lingo here. queens = cats who are raising kits in the nursery. she-cats = XX karyotype, considers self female (cis, if you will). toms = XY karyotype, considers self male (cis, again). and uh...we'll go with...

god i hate. i don't want anything i say in this ramble to be considered "words i am going to now use consistently" because i literally just need some way to describe this for my own sanity. with that in mind, let us use molly for XY karyotype, but not a tom, and...how about gib for XX karyotype, not a she-cat.

again, i don't want that to be considered permanent, i'm just fishing at words people use to describe cats so i can have something to work with.

right so, i don't think cats think gib and tom are equivalent, but i also don't think they (as a society) care about that.

like, okay, let's say redtail is XX, but not a she-cat. there's nothing to really be done (heck, if he wants to be a queen, that's still fine), cats don't have gendered pronouns or names, but at the same time, there's an intuitive understanding of what that means.

this kind of ties into the matriarchy, kind of? like, hm, queens are an important part of the matriarchy, but at the same time, she-cats inherit family lines. not that cats inherit much, but still.

i'm getting very abstract here. take, uh, like let's say a hypothetical trans mothwing. i think a lot of people have that headcanon?

and i think, like, mothwing would not be considered a tom. if cats had a concept of sexuality, leafpool would not be straight, because she likes mothwing, and mothwing is not a tom.

but! i would still think willowshine probably is the first line for nursery visits, at least when the kits are very young.

and i don't think anyone there would be unhappy with that deal.

right. i just kept rambling for a while, because i've been thinking about this and obviously it's semi-tied to the question.

tl/dr: cats don't care about gender, because they are cats meowing at each other in the woods. if a cat says they're not agab, everyone is just cool with that.

#ask #anon #essay #long #ask to tag #jic #mine #txt #genetics #redtail #warriors genetics #trans cats

[yunsoh]

rin and machi meeting at the same prereq intro art class at the college they inexplicably both go to because the art program’s alright but neither of them know what the fuck they’re doing yet, sitting literally right next to each other the entire semester but saying absolutely nothing to each other except for the occasional “here” (rin giving machi a pencil [again] because machi lost hers [again]) and “here” (machi placing the handout on rin’s desk and passing the stack along to someone else bc girl is overthinking something and just doodling scribbles into her notebook) and it’s not until they see each other in a class like two semesters later that rin is like “wait a min” and machi’s like “yeah i know who ur related to i just didn’t say anything” and idk. rin thinks she’s kinda cool. machi thinks she’s a little intimidating but in a “this is lowkey awakening something in me” kinda way. sometimes they hang out between classes because they just happen to be in the same building all day and they don’t talk or anything they just sit and hang with each other while they do homework or pretend to do homework or just stare dead-eyed into their triple shots bc it’s almost time for presentations. machi tears her whole ass notebook in half one day while they’re sitting in the hall and rin is like “what the goddamn are you doing” and they kind of have an argument over it which confuses them both because literally? they never talk? but rin’s lowkey internalized tohru’s whole “every drawing is precious” spiel and machi doesn’t understand why she cares so much about it to the point of arguing and literally storming into a class in session to grab a roll of tape to fix it but machi is both intrigued by the fact that she gives so much of a damn and also purposefully fucks all of her papers up so that all of the taped pieces get mismatched anyway because rin is too annoyed with machi to even notice that it’s all getting put together wrong. this is a turning point for them and yet they still don’t have a normal conversation with each other until a month after this whole thing happens. machi casually presents the notebook as a collab once and it embarrasses rin so bad that she sits in the bathroom for like twenty minutes. anyways there’s a rumor floating around the department that they’re girlfriends.

#idk i just think they're neat

[starker-stories]

Long Lenses

It’s been awhile since I posted something new & original. This has been sitting forgotten in my WIPs for a bit. Lost it, found it, posting it.

Also on AO3

If you like what I write, may I recommend subscribing to my feed? After having lost my blog to my own idiocy, I kinda have a distrust of tumblr. I’ve had other issues here with things just disappearing for no reason. Plus when tumblr (or I) mess up, anything below a readmore disappears. So AO3 is the best place to read my stuff. It’s ALL there, long or short. 

Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Quentin Beck, May Parker (Spider-Man) Additional Tags: Cheating, College Student Peter Parker, Closeted Character, Arguing, Happy Ending, Manipulation, Closeted Tony Stark, Press and Tabloids, Secret Relationship, Homophobic Language, used only once, Outing, Offscreen Pepper Potts, Cheating isn't Starker

Summary:  “You’d much rather give the world the image of a happily married heterosexual man than to have the world know that you just go through the motions with her and are secretly as gay as I am,” Peter said bitterly. -------------------------------------------------------------------

“Stay,” Peter said, lying in bed still long before dawn on Sunday morning. He watched Tony dress.

“You know I can’t.” Tony made sure that his suit was appropriately rumpled, his shirt pulled out on one side, his tie askew. He took a drink, rinsed his mouth with the strong scotch. Sloshed a little out of the glass onto his shirt to make the picture believable.

“Stay.” Peter reached out his hand. Tony bent over and kissed Peter, who frowned. “I hate it when you smell like that. Almost as much as I hate the way you smell on Saturday afternoon when you get here. I don’t know what’s worse, watching you pretend to be a drunk or having you smell like her.”

“Peter, you knew the terms when you said yes.”

“And I knew the terms when you said you were going to leave her. When’s that gonna happen, huh?”

Tony sighed. “I hate it when you wake up.”

“You’d rather just sneak out and leave me to wake up to an empty bed,” Peter said angrily.

“Look, she knows I go out with friends on Saturday night. She hates it and gives me hell for it, but I’m here every single Saturday. I have ‘business meetings’ scheduled every Wednesday. Which, since she’s still my PA, she knows I don’t.”

“After which you’re always out the door before ten.”

“Peter, if you don’t like it, I just won’t do it anymore, okay?”

“I’m that fucking inconsequential to you?”

“You know that’s not true. I love you.”

“Not enough to leave her.”

“Things are complicated.”

“Of course they are. You’d much rather give the world the image of a happily married heterosexual man than to have the world know that you just go through the motions with her and are secretly as gay as I am,” Peter said bitterly.

Tony sighed and headed for the door. “Whatever Peter.”

Before the door shut, with a tear strained voice, “Will I see you Wednesday?”

His answer was a closed door.

It didn’t stop him from fixing dinner for two after his last class on Wednesday afternoon. Or waiting nervously to see if the door to the apartment Tony paid for would open by Tony’s key. Almost two hours late, it did.

Tony leaned over and gave Peter a peck on the cheek. “Sorry. I tried to get out as soon as I could, but things ran long.”

He always smelled like her on Wednesdays but this time her perfume was stronger than normal. “It’s okay. I just turned the lasagna down when I noticed you were running late.”

Tony sat at the kitchenette table and watched as Peter laid the dinner. “How was class? Professor Martinez still giving you a hard time?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.” Peter smiled as Tony poured the wine for both of them. “I thought I’d take fifteen hours next semester instead of twelve. Other than physics, the rest is a breeze. I can handle more work.” He paused. “Is that going to be okay? It’s going to cost more.”

“If you think you can handle the course load, you know I have no problem with that, baby. I want you to get whatever you can out of school. Fifteen hours a semester? And if you take summer courses, you can graduate in three years.”

Peter laughed. “One more than it took you.”

“Yeah baby, but I got all my prereqs done while I was in high school. You had to trudge through all that last year.”

“I just didn’t want to take summer classes, that’s all. You mentioned something about a yacht,” Peter said teasingly.

“Yeah, well…”

Peter tried to hide his disappointment. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s just that the press… every time I take the boat out, they’re out there with their long lenses. Fuck, last time they caught me and Pep nude sunbathing with a drone.”

Peter’s lips drew into a sharp line. He’d seen those pictures of course. Nude sunbathing wasn’t the half of what they’d caught. “Summer classes are fine,” he said tersely.

“I’m sorry baby.” Tony reached his hand across the table and took Peter’s in it.

Peter shrugged. “It is what it is, right?”

“I was thinking…” Tony smiled. “I’d take a hell of a hit in the prenup, but if she caught me with another woman… We still couldn’t be public, but as a single man I’d have a lot more time to spend with you.”

Peter brightened. “You’d do that?”

“Pretty sure she already suspects something. It wouldn’t be hard to convince her. To have some ‘well meaning’ friend of hers catch me with a girlfriend and tell her.”

“Then I’d just have to share you with your girlfriend. There’d have to be one, right?”

“Just for show.”

“Why can’t it just be us? No one would care.”

“I still do business in a lot of parts of the world where they do care.”

“I’ll never have you to myself, will I?”

“You’ll always be the only one who I love. Why do we have to fight? I get to see you so little, I hate to spend it fighting.”

Peter smiled. “I can think of much better ways to spend the next two hours.”

~~~~~

It wasn’t difficult to make a device to disguise his voice. Finding a payphone in a New York suburb was harder, but he hacked into the phone company’s computer and got a list of every functional payphone within twenty miles of a train stop. Getting there untraceably was another challenge. But trains were anonymous and cab drivers even more so when you behaved normally without anything odd to set you apart from dozens of other fares. The phone was a lot closer to the train station than he thought, so he decided that after his call, he’d just walk back there. Even more anonymous.

Finding a reporter with a grudge against Tony Stark wasn’t hard at all. Finding one who had the clout to push a controversial story past frightened editors narrowed the field down to one, Quentin Beck.

“Mr. Beck? I’ve got some news about Tony Stark you might be interested in.”

“I doubt it. I’d need sources and those dry up as soon as Stark starts throwing his money around.”

“He’s having an affair.”

“I thought you said news. Everyone knows that he cheats on his wife.”

“With another man?” Peter added.

“You have my attention. That’s a hell of an accusation. I’ll need details and undeniable proof.”

“Details I can give you. Proof, you’ll have to get on your own.”

“Details then,” Beck said tersely.

“They meet every week.”

“How do you know this?”

“I see him go in. I know who lives there.”

“How do you know that he’s not seeing a woman there? Because like I said, that’s no news at all.”

“The women living in that building are either old or with kids,” Peter expected Beck to take the bait sooner than that. He was having to improvise.

“Lotta women with kids screw around.”

“The only man living in that building is a queer. Stark’s gotta be at least twice his age. It’s sick.” It hurt Peter to have to refer to both of them like that, but Beck was still resisting.

“Address?”

Peter gave him the address of the building he lived in. “He’s there every Saturday. I don’t know if there’s any other time. I’ve seen him go in. My shift ends at two and I’ve never seen him come out, so he stays until after that.” There were three different all night businesses on the same block as his apartment. It wasn’t unbelievable that someone in one of them could’ve seen Tony go into his building.

“Who are you? So I can credit you.”

Peter laughed. “I’m not losing my job over this.”

“So you’re just a concerned citizen.”

“Yep. I don’t like perverts passing themselves off as good married men.”

~~~~~

It was easy for Peter to take the intercom in his apartment apart and disconnect the buzzer to let Tony in on Saturday afternoon.

“Something’s wrong with my door thing.” Peter explained as he came down to the door. He was barefoot and wearing shorts so short they were barely covered by the hem of his t-shirt. “I can hear the doorbell ring, but I can’t buzz anyone in. My pizza last night was almost sent back. Fortunately the delivery guy phoned me.” He leaned up and gave Tony a quick peck on the cheek as he shut the glass lobby door behind him.

“Glad to see you’re in a better mood tonight.” Tony smiled and caught Peter by the waist returning his peck with a more substantial kiss.

“I get to have you in my bed all night, of course I’m in a better mood.” Peter smiled, took Tony’s hand and led him up the stairs to his apartment which was over a block of small shops.

There was no arguing, no demands, no pouting. Peter had no idea if Beck actually took his tip seriously or not. But it was a last ditch effort to finally have Tony be his. Tony would never know how Quentin Beck got his information. He was one of the reporters who dogged him ceaselessly and one he hadn’t been able to control. Peter was fairly certain that Tony would believe it was just bad luck and Beck following him trying to get dirt on something else.

Upstairs, Tony took apart Peter’s intercom and found the singed wire he made to look like an ordinary short.

“Thank you. It’s so hard to get the super up to do anything around here. I’m not complaining. It’s a nice apartment, close to school, and right on the subway, so it’s perfect. But you know… they try to get away with doing as little work as possible.”

Tony laughed. “I should buy the building.”

“It’s a little down market for you, don’t you think?”

~~~~~

It was one of the best Saturday nights they’d had in a long time. Especially since Peter pretended to be very hard asleep when Tony got up to leave. He grumbled a little and turned over but then drifted (or seemed to) right back off.

Now all he had to do was wait for the papers. It was probably too late to make it into Sunday’s but Monday morning? Peter didn’t buy a copy. He didn’t want the evidence lying around his apartment. But the library at school had subscriptions to every New York paper. It wasn’t in the paper Beck worked for. Peter was about to give up, disappointed that his scheming came to nothing. Then he saw the tabloid. It didn’t have a byline for Quentin Beck, just ‘staff’. Peter supposed that when his editor shot him down, Beck decided that a paycheck was worth more than a byline.

The pictures were remarkably clear. Peter winced at seeing how clear his face was in addition to Tony’s. He winced harder when he read the article and found out that either Beck or the tabloid’s staff had discovered his name from the apartment’s records. And even worse, they had copies of checks from Tony’s private account that showed he paid Peter’s rent.

He ran home from the school library. There were reporters outside his door. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I forgot my chemistry text. I need to get back before my next class. Why are you here? Let me through! Don’t touch me!” He twisted out of the reporter’s grasp. He was shaking so hard he couldn’t get his key to work. They were shouting questions at him and cameras were going off around him. Three tries later, he was inside the lobby where reporters weren’t allowed to go. He didn’t wait for the elevator but ran up the stairs. He pulled the curtains shut and curled up in the middle of the bed, crying. 

Clearly, he had not thought this through. He had grossly miscalculated and he regretted his decision tremendously. Instead of doing something to assure him of finally having Tony all to himself, he might have driven him away permanently.

Peter sat staring at his phone, hoping Tony would call. It rang often, but he didn’t answer. Tony had a special ringtone. All other calls, even from his friends, he rejected. Tony didn’t call. Peter imagined he was busy trying to put out the fires on his end. After a few hours, he tried to call Tony. It rang once and then went straight to voicemail. He didn’t leave a message. He waited another hour to the same results. The next call, two hours later, he left a voicemail.

“Tony, I’m scared. They’re outside my door. I… I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to say. I’m locked in and I’m alone and I don’t know what’s going on.” He was crying. “What happened, Tony? Please call me back. Please. I know… I know things have to be bad for you too. But I’m scared, Tony. I’m scared.” 

Not only might he lose Tony, but his whole life was about to be ruined. If they had the rent checks, they would find other things too. Like his school schedule. Like the fact that Tony was paying his tuition. That he’d set up an account for Peter to pay for groceries and books and other little things. Oh god, they might even find out his aunt’s name and number.

“May? Has anyone… Have you…” Peter was sobbing.

“Peter, what’s going on? I went to work and my friend showed me the paper. You and Tony Stark? Is that true? I know they can make pictures up to look like whatever they want.”

“It’s true. It was a secret. It was supposed to stay a secret. I don’t know how they found out. They’re outside my door. I could barely get into my apartment building.”

“He’s married, Peter. How could you!”

“He said he was going to leave her. He said he loved me.”

May sighed. “Sweetie, they don’t ever leave their wives, you know that. Men like Tony Stark… he buys and sells people like they were nothing.”

“He isn’t like that, May. He… he was going to leave her. He had a plan and everything. It was just going to take time. He loves me and I love him.” He sniffled and tried to stop crying. “Are you okay? They haven’t bothered you, have they?”

“I’ve had some calls but I hung up on them. But no one’s been here at the apartment though. Not like your place. The internet has the story already. I saw your picture trying to get into your building.” She paused. “Is it true he pays for your rent?”

“Y-y-yeah.” He was sniffling again. “And my tuition and everything else.”

“So you don’t have a job like you told me.”

“I used to. When I told you, I was an intern at Stark Industries, that was true. But it only lasted a few months before Tony and I… I’m sorry May. I didn’t want to lie to you, but it had to be a secret. He couldn’t have anyone knowing.” He started crying again. “Now everybody knows. And he isn’t calling me back.”

“Peter, even if everything you said is true, that he loves you and was going to leave his wife, he can’t call you right now. If… I don’t even know how to explain this to you… you’re young. You don’t know what it’s like to be married.”

“Not you and Ben… that never happened between you, did it?” Peter sounded afraid.

“No, no. Neither of us were like that. But you hear about it from friends. There are friends I have at the hospital whose husbands cheated on them. It’s… messy. It’s complicated. And that’s without being famous and the press hounding them all the time. This can’t be easy for his wife. Think about her. I don’t mean to be harsh, sweetie, but you just ruined her life.”

“I’m not the first affair he’s had,” Peter said defensively.

“But you’re the one he got caught with. And the only man.”

“Not even that.”

“Okay. But you’re the one she can’t deny or push under the carpet or pretend she doesn’t know about.”

“I don’t care about her,” Peter said angrily.

“That’s obvious,” May said, with a little anger of her own.

“It’s not my fault.”

“Whose is it? You knew he was married. The whole world knows he’s married. Sure, it took both of you, but you didn’t have to say yes. How long has this been going on?”

“About a year and a half.”

“Peter!”

“We’re in love. He doesn’t love her. He hasn’t loved her for a long time. Even before me.”

“I can believe that man has no morals, but you? I thought…”

“I’m in love with him,” Peter interrupted her. “That’s all I know. I’m in love with him.” Peter was sobbing. “You don’t know him like I do. Nobody does. He’s different when he’s with me.”

“Well, I’m not going to talk to anyone about it. I didn’t know anything and obviously, I still don’t know anything. I thought I knew you but…”

“You do. You just don’t get it. We fell in love. That’s not something you can control.”

“But you can control acting on it. I’m sorry you’re in the mess you’re in, but it’s a mess you made for yourself. You have to think of the other people whose lives you ruined by choosing to sleep with a married man.”

~~~~~

It was after midnight before Tony’s ringtone played on Peter’s phone. “Tony?” he asked hesitantly.

“Yeah baby. I’m so sorry. I should’ve known… I never meant for you to be caught up in this. The damn fucking reporters follow me everywhere.”

“Are you okay?”

“I will be. Like was going to happen with my plan, I’m gonna take a hell of a hit to the pocket by the prenup. She insisted on a cheating clause, knowing my lack of ability to keep it in my pants. But she never would’ve pulled that trigger unless something went public.”

“But you can manage that, right?”

“It’s not gonna send me to the poorhouse, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m not. You know I don’t love you for your money. I hope you do.”

“I know baby. Bad joke. Sorry.”

“Are you still at home?”

“Nope. I mean, it’s still going to be my home once the separation’s over and done with. The building belongs to the company and the company belongs to me. I’ll need to buy out her share of the penthouse, but that’s not a problem. It was just prudent that I be the one to leave right now. Give her time to cool down, let the lawyers hash things out.”

“I wasn’t sure you’d call.” He paused. “Ever.”

“Really? Doubt me that much?”

Peter sighed heavily. “Things don’t usually work out well for the ‘other woman’.”

“Yeah, but the guy usually isn’t in love with the ‘other woman’. I love you.”

“Still? Even though…” He sighed again. “The other woman turned out to be the other man?”

“It’s kind of a relief, actually. I mean, yeah, life is gonna be hard for awhile, but then we can be together.”

“You still want that?”

“You still want me?” Tony asked.

“Yeah, Tony. I’m kind of in love with you.” He paused, twirling the fringe on his bedspread in his fingers. “My aunt kinda hates me.”

“I’m sorry. The whole homewrecker thing?” Tony asked.

“Yeah. She doesn’t understand.”

“It doesn’t help that the papers are… fucking ruthless. But what’s done is done. No putting this genie back in his closet,” he laughed wryly.

“I’m sorry Tony.”

“Not your fault baby. It just never happened before because I never stayed with the same person for more than a few nights. After a year and a half, my habits got picked up on. Traveling to the same place on a regular schedule. Someone was bound to catch me sooner or later.”

“So what’s gonna happen now?” Peter asked.

“Well, I could always have Happy drive by and pick you up to bring you to my suite at the Plaza.”

“What‽”

Tony chuckled. “Not like we have to keep it a secret anymore. Not like the whole world doesn’t know I’m into guys after today’s headlines. Not like she can sue me twice for cheating on her. The only question is how much heat are you willing to bear to be with me. Because it’s gonna get really hot for you, baby. They’re gonna dig out every nasty word in the thesaurus and print them.”

“Do I get to be with you?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Let them print,” Peter said with fierce determination. “I’ll send them a list in case their thesaurus isn’t complete.”

#starker #Von writes stuff #starker-stories formerly starkestories

[smoljoelito]

Advice on How to Be a Straight A Student

Hey guys! So I got a señor anon question on how to be a straight A student and my response got a bit long, so here it is in a text post. 

Before I begin, I’d like to say I’m not an expert on this subject. This is just stuff that works for me.

So a little background information before I give some advice!

I’m a sophomore in University, majoring in nursing, minoring in Spanish. I graduated high school with a 3.73 GPA, and the problem was I figured out how to study best for myself the second semester of my senior year of high school! So, I got to college and was freaking out. At my university, the lowest excepted GPA to get into the Fall 2018 nursing program was a 3.83, which is INCREDIBLY high. Never in my life did I think I’d be able to get that GPA, since high school made me feel dumb. I was encouraged to take AP classes and I took too many, and while other kids succeeded, I fell behind. It made me feel incredibly incapable, yet, for money for my district, I was still encouraged to take more. Come Fall 2018, taking classes for pre-nursing to be able to apply into the program, I was a nervous wreck. I lacked self-confidence and I was praying for a 3.8 GPA, but I decided to make a promise to myself. My confidence wasn’t great enough to promise a 4.0 GPA for all my prereqs, but it was for the first semester just so I didn’t have to worry as much second semester about keeping my GPA high. Yet, against all my beliefs, I 4.0′d all my pre-nursing/pre-reqs classes, got into the Fall 2019 nursing program (I start September 4th), where usually 300 students apply, but only 72 are selected in the fall, 97 in the winter. I also received a 4.0 in a summer microbiology class that was originally 14-16 weeks long during the school year, but it was shortened into 6 weeks into the summer, made it onto the Dean’s List, and so much more. My new goal is to be one of And now, I’m going to tell you how I did it.

Here is what I wish someone would’ve told me when I started high school or college:

First things first, you HAVE to believe in yourself. This is VITAL.

If you walk into a class telling yourself you’re barely going to pass, chances are, you’re barely going to pass. You are your biggest enemy. Chemistry is a subject, it is not a person, it doesn’t decide whether or not you’re going to pass or fail. It’s literally a class, it holds absolutely NO power over you. It literally just exists. The only thing that holds power over you, is you. You decide your future, not Chemistry. When you say, “Oh I’m so bad at Chemistry, I’ll never pass.” Chemistry had absolutely nothing to do with it, it was ALL you. The class you hate and think you’re going to fail should be your favorite and top priority. Why? Because you’re going to have to spend the MOST time on it. If you cut yourself short by saying you’ll never pass right off the bat and ignore the class, the harsh reality is, you allowed yourself to fail. Stop telling yourself that you are unable to do things, then complain when you get bad scores. Chemistry is difficult, but nothing is impossible.

My quote for this section:

“It is not because things are difficult that we do not dare; it is because we do not dare that things are difficult.” Seneca

Find your best way to study, preferably before college rolls around.

For me, this is flashcards, but I don’t just use them for memorizing, I use them for connecting. I make questions that connect things from the chapter I’m in along with prior chapters. Here’s an example:

On a person in anatomical position, which bone in the forearm can be located more medial to the body?

This, is a great question. Not only am I asking location, but I’m referencing prior topics at the same time. Anatomical position is lying flat on your back with palms facing outward. Medial is something that is closer to the midline of the body. Both of which are terms learned in previous chapters. Knowing this, I would be lead to believe the answer is the ulna. Now, I have not only learned, but reviewed.

My quote for this section:

“We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence is then, not an act, but a habit.” Will Durant.

ASK QUESTIONS!

Listen guys, I’m blunt and a bit harsh, so here’s a reality check for you: I don’t care whether or not you are shy, extroverted, confident, not confident, whatever, there’s NO excuse to say you don’t understand a topic if you’re not willing to ask questions to gain more knowledge or better understand it. If you receive a bad grade in a class and never ask questions or try to better understand it, shame on you. Don’t blame your professor, don’t blame the class for being “too hard”, I don’t want to hear it. So, in this section, I’m going to tell you how to ask a good question and who to ask.

Who:

First, your professor/teacher obviously. Don’t be afraid, most professors don’t bite. They’re not going to get annoyed with you. Their job is literally to talk about what they love, for hours on end. Everyone’s favorite topic is themselves, their hobbies, anything that correlates around them. If you ask them a question deeper than the material provided, out of confusion, or just for further knowledge, chances are they’d LOVE to answer it for you! Bonus: the more questions you ask, the more they’ll know you, and the more they’ll be willing to help you, especially when you’re in a time of need. You don’t need to always ask questions during lecture/class, though it is preferable. If you’re shy or introverted, write down your questions on a sheet of paper, preferably with the slide you’re referencing, then ask after class.

Next, tutors! Most universities have a tutoring center, or if you’re in college, ask a counselor to find you one. If your professor is a bit intimidating for you, or flat out doesn’t want to answer questions, this is a GREAT idea! It’s much easier to talk to someone in your age range as well, so if you’re a super shy person, this might be a better option for you. Also, the tutors aren’t the experts of the subject, which plays in your favor. They know how to break the subject down into ways you’ll be able to understand, sometimes in better ways than your professor. 

Lastly, anyone that has taken the class before you. In nursing school, they recommend we make friends with someone that’s in the year above us and attach ourselves to them, which I plan on doing. They’ve experienced everything before you, so you’ll have the freshest advice. Which prof should I take? Ask them. Do I need to buy the book for this class? Hmm... they’ll know.

Good questions:

Connecting questions. When you link two topics together, preferably from another chapter, you’re learning in the BEST way possible. Ask the question. Your professor will love you, the class will love you, and you will love you, because more than likely, your professor will either: agree with the connection, disagree with the connection and tell you where you went wrong (still learning), and congratulate you on your good question. It’s a win-win situation.

another very important point: even if you are wrong in whatever you are asking, that does NOT make it a bad question. Good questions lead to learning, whether it is agreeing or disagreeing. Humility and humbleness are attractive qualities, and the willingness to do such is probably the best way to be successful. You have to be willing to be wrong to eventually learn and be right.

Any question where you are confused. You paying for a class is paying for your professor to talk. Use your money wisely. Hold up the damn class, get your answer. Learn and grow in your knowledge. Chances are, other people are confused too, and aren’t bold enough to ask.

Why? This might be the best question ever. Actually, I take that back, it is. One word asks fifty other questions and tells 100 more. Here’s what the professor gets out of “why” questions: I might not have explained the topic enough so I’m going to talk about it more, said student wants to know more about the topic, this is a learning opportunity for the class, etc.

My quotes for this section:

“Too many of us are not living our dreams because we are living our fears.” Les Brown

“The only bad question is one that you can find the answer to on the syllabus.” Smoljoelito 

“ Excuses are born out of fear. Eliminate your fear and there will be no excuses.” Unknown

When someone asks you if you can help them with something in a class, always say yes, even if you don’t know the answer.

One of the best ways I’ve found that I learn is by explaining things to other people. My friend Molly used to text me a lot during Biology and ask me if I knew what said thing meant or if I could explain said thing better. I always said yes, even if I didn’t know what the hell she was talking about. Why? Because obviously, I need to study it too, and what better way than to teach someone else.

The best way to look at information you don’t understand: If someone were to break this down for me, how would I want it to sound to best understand?

So, I’d break it down for her, and we’d both learn something new. Saying “no” would’ve lost me and her a learning opportunity. Also, we were competing for the same spot in the nursing program, but 

My quote for this section (doesn’t fit as well): 

“By doing what you love you inspire and awaken the hearts of others.” Satsuki Shibuya

Elaborative rehearsal

This is a term from psychology. I took this class after Biology, so I never realized this is what I was doing the whole year. Basically, elaborative rehearsal is memorizing information by connecting new information to old information, and it is the BEST way to memorize as I learned in class. This can come in many forms: making an analogy to learn a subject (to memorize transcription in Biology I made a story connecting transcription to pre-gaming and it worked so well), asking questions to connect new topics to prior topics, etc. Every time I break down a subject to better understand it, I try to connect it with something I know, whether it’s past information, pre-gaming, realizing a reason why something happens, anything, and I never forget it.

This section is short so it doesn’t get a quote

Get ahead of your professor (university students and AP students mostly).

The BEST thing I’ve ever done for myself would have to be being ahead of my professors by two and three chapters at a time! Here’s the tea: the busiest time of your semester in school should be the first month. Of course, your first month is the easiest, so you’re probably wondering, why should it be the busiest? Because come one month later, each class is going to start dropping exams, and you’re going to start falling behind. Get ahead early. I just bought my pathophysiology book (August 19th) and my classes don’t start until September 4th. This class is going to kick my ass, so my plan is to kick its ass by starting classes early. It’ll never see me coming.

It’s not just getting prepared for exams, but by even having the chapters prepared ahead of time for a lecture when your professor is lecturing, it’s no longer learning, but understanding. Instead of trying to pick up on everything the prof is saying, you’re being reminded of things noted in the book, things you remember, and also things you need further clarity on. Instead of reading the chapter after and having an “oh shit what does this mean?” moment, you can figure it out during lecture. Bonus: if your prof doesn’t lecture on it, ask for further clarity on the subject anyway. You might get lucky and be told not to worry about it. It may not be on the exam at all.

Start early, get ahead, thank me later.

My quote for this section:

“Do something today that your future self will thank you for.” Sean Patrick Flanery 

Take notes! (if they help you)

All the studyblrs are gonna hate me for this, but I really don’t take notes. I have a Microsoft Surface Book 2 laptop and the screen detaches from the keyboard so I write right on the PowerPoints my teachers have, then turn them into flashcards. Why? Because it’s like portable notes. For me personally, when I stopped wasting so much time on notes for Biology, I got higher test scores. Instead of writing notes, I spent the time going over my flashcards. And instead of taking notes on the chapters outside of class, I’d read them twice before class, highlight stuff, then make flashcards off the things not gone over in class. It worked better for me. Even in psychology, I’d highlight the things my prof went over on the PowerPoints, then make flashcards after class. For me, I function better by paying attention to what the prof is saying, rather than focusing on writing every word down. 

Classes I’ve taken that you are more than welcome to ask me questions about in my ask:

Here are classes I have taken, some from high school, some from college. I will answer to the best of my ability, or find you things that are more equipped to answer them.

Biology 1 (uni)

Intro to Chemistry (uni)

Intro to Logic (uni)

Intro to Organic Chemistry & Biochemistry (uni)

AP Calculus AB (high school)

General Chemistry (high school)

Organic Chemistry (high school)

Anatomy & Physiology (uni & high school)

Algebra, Pre-Calc, math in general (high school)

Physics (high school)

Intro to Psychology (uni)

Spanish 1-4, AP Spanish 4, AP Spanish 6 (high school)

AP Language & Culture and AP Literature & Culture

AP Chemistry (high school)

Any kinda Art

Also, if you have questions about high school or college, anything at all, feel free to ask me!

Other things to help you!

studyblrs! They have masterlists of how to take notes, stationery to buy that's cheap, what to write down in lecture, etc. If you want me to link some, send me an ask.

I’m a stationery fanatic as well, so if you guys want cheap pens that are high quality, good highlighters, paper, useful things, etc, hmu. I can make a whole amazon wishlist.

Tutoring centers.

Libraries. My uni has a part of the library called The Writing Center where profs will go to help you write essays and such. 

Websites & YouTube. Khan Academy is an amazing resource along with Crash Course, one of my personal faves. For Biology, I used Crash Course a lot and one of my friends used this channel I believe is called the Amoeba Sisters? I can’t remember. If you want the link I’ll find it for you.

Quotes I live by

Whatever your situation, getting the career you’d like, passing a class, graduating valedictorian, here are some quotes to encourage you to keep on going. 

“Deciding what not to do is as important as deciding what to do.” Steve Jobs

“If I quit now, I will soon be back to where I started. And when I started, I was desperately wishing to be where I am now.” Unknown

“When you have confidence, you can have a lot of fun. When you have fun, you can do amazing things.” Joe Namath

“One of the greatest discoveries a person makes is to find out they can do what they were afraid they couldn’t do.” Henry Ford. This quote makes me emotional.

“Self-esteem is the ability to see yourself as a flawed individual and still hold yourself in regard.” Ester Perel

“Do what you dream of doing even while you’re afraid.” Arianna Huffingtin.

“Be the one who decided to go for it.”

“Everything you want to be, you already are. You’re simply on the path to discovering it.” Alicia Keys

“Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your inner voice. Have the courage to follow your own heart and intuition.” Steve Jobs.

“If we wait for the moment when everything, absolutely everything is ready, we shall never begin.” John Quincy Adams

“If you want something you've never had, you must be willing to do something you've never done.” Unknown

“There is no person living who isn't capable of doing more than they think they can do.” Henry Ford 

“Decide that you want it more than you are afraid of it.” Unknown

Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.” Winston Churchill 

“Success isn't about how your life looks to others. It's about how it feels to you.” Michelle Obama 

In conclusion

I know what it feels like to feel like an idiot, to wish I was as good at something as someone else is. Comparison is the silent killer. The moment you start to think you are less than someone else, you start to believe it. Drop the comparison, let everything go, be humble, and focus on your purpose. There is not a thing you can’t do or be good at. There is not a person in the world that isn’t born with some kind of talent, something they are one of the best at. I have found by “best” and I have grown and learned from it. For a while, I thought I’d fail, that I’d be laughed at and humiliated, but when I let all that go, all the pain, the lies, and focused on my purpose, my goal came as easy as taking a breath of fresh air. So, I leave you with this:

“What would you attempt to do if you knew you could not fail?” Robert H. Schuller

#em's tips #study #studying #cnco #school #school help #writing help #success #inspiration #quotes #em's school tips

[oddcoupler222]

Akskdkdk I’m not crying I just got some tww feelings in my eyes and to the rest of tww fans you’re welcome (I’m the biggest one of them all) let it be multi chapter 🤲🏻

did i take one person asking for something and turn it into a spinoff semi romance novel? i… may have.

Eliza -

Colleen -

(for funsies)

 Fall 2018

Eliza wouldn’t say she loved her work study job in the registrar’s office. But she had friends with various other jobs throughout campus, and she knew because of their tales that her job wasn’t the worst.

Would she love to trade with her new friend, Sara, and have the job in the printing lab in the library, where she would just have to un-jam the printer and restock it with paper, then sit on her laptop? Of course. But she was also nosy as fuck and she got a lot of insider info from her supervisor here. Plus, she got all of the registration codes early. So who was the real winner?

Still Sara.

“Hello? Hi. I’m sorry, are you busy? I’m - I’m not trying to be obnoxious, but I really really have to get into a class, and I have nowhere else to go to ask. I’ve tried the professor, I’ve tried her TA. I’ve asked all of the upperclassmen I know. And this is the final stop before I may very well have a breakdown.”

A frantic, pleading voice interrupted her IG scrolling. It was technically one of her two fifteen minute breaks that she got during her five hour shift. She intended to tell the interloper that she would have to wait until the other side of the office didn’t have a line, because where her desk was, was technically closed.

But Eliza had never seen an angel in real life before. And she was such a simple, simple lesbian.

Never in her life had she ever been struck like this, though. The tousled blonde hair that she could see was usually nice and orderly. The clothes that screamed an upper-middle class (at the very least) background, though trendy.

Blue eyes crystal clear but starting to brim with tears.

“I’m not busy. What can I do for you?”

“Thank the gods! In order to graduate on time with my major and both of my minors, I need to double up on some courses. Which means I have to take some courses before I’m technically supposed to. So, I got permission to take Ethnicity and Identity with Dr. Oakhart next semester, even though it’s a semester early. Because I need to take Cultures of Essos the semester after, and it’s a prereq. But it took forever to get permission to take Oakhart’s class early; I had to basically camp out in her office,” a little laugh fluttered out, anxiously. “And now? She gave me permission but told me she wouldn’t let me jump the waitlist. I just. I really need to get into that class. Can you even just tell me how long the waitlist is, maybe? Please?”

Someone was wound extremely tightly. It wasn’t usually something Eliza, as a laidback person, enjoyed. But she was already charmed.

“Let me check.”

She typed in her credentials into the system as she surreptitiously glanced up at the girl. Her cheeks were flushed and seven hells. She was cute.

“You really camped out in her office?”

“Huh?” A fleeting smile flashed over her face, and it warmed everything inside of her. “Oh. Well, I know it sounds crazy in retrospect. I can just sometimes get very focused.”

“I gotcha.” Eliza did not, in fact, relate. But her pretending to put this girl at ease.

She pulled up Oakhart’s Gender and Identity class for the spring – and yikes, there was a waitlist a mile long.

“That’s not a good face.”

“Ouch.” She kidded.

“Gods! No, your face isn’t -”

She stopped her before she could ramble anymore. Especially because she wasn’t sure she could handle some sort of mangled compliment from this gorgeous creature without stumbling over herself. “It’s cool. Uh, yeah, no the waitlist isn’t bad.” She lied through her teeth.

“It’s not?” The could-be model’s voice was as incredulous as it should be, as she tried to lean over the counter to see the computer. Like she had to see to believe.

And Eliza quickly turned the computer more toward herself, “Uh, you can’t - against policy-” once again, the lies.

“Sorry. That was probably crossing a line.” She blew out a deep breath and her shoulders deflated. “I guess, can you just put me on the bottom of the list?”

“Yeah,” she lied, fully intending on breaking the rules, as she clicked the top of the waitlist to flag her into the class. “I just need… your name.”

She very much wanted to learn her name.

“Colleen Durand. D-U-R-A-N-D,” she spelled it, and Eliza could very easily see that she’d spelled her name or heard it spelled just so in order to get places in life many times.

She typed her name into the first place on the wait list. “I imagine you will probably hear about this class sometime soon. Don’t fill this block on your class schedule.”

An all too brief, but brightly blazing smile stole her breath. “Thanks so much.” Colleen checked her wrist, a nice looking silver watch glinting in the light coming in from the window. “Gods, I have to go. All right. Thanks again.”

“You’re welcome!” She called after her.

Colleen Durand. She loved the registrar’s office.

Spring 2019

Approaches to Comparative Literature… was a joke.

Colleen rarely thought of classes like that, because all she had in her head was her mother’s voice, saying, “If I’m paying for you to go to a public institution“ - even though it wasn’t in the top 5 universities in the nation (god forbid she go to a public university, even if it was ranked as one of the top ten colleges in the country) - “You’d better be bringing back nothing short of straight A’s.”

She was a junior in college, was on track to graduate at the top of her class even with having two minors - she took 6 classes a semester, not counting the summer and winter semester courses she took. And she took all of them seriously - took color coded notes by hand, sat in the front of the class.

But this course… she just couldn’t. She tried for the first two weeks, learned that the professor left much of his job up to the TA, and then said TA had hit on her in an extremely slimy way and she - well, after that she started slipping into the back row. Just this one class wouldn’t hurt.

She was the only one in her row and sitting in the back gave her a whole new perspective.

It especially gave her a perspective on the girl she’d only known as Nice Girl at the registrar office who doesn’t think I’m crazy before now, and now she knew her name - Eliza.

Eliza, she’d learned from sitting in the front, types vigorously during every class on her laptop and occasionally makes very funny commentary.

It was only in switching her seat to sit behind Eliza that she realized she isn’t taking notes on her laptop, but was instead just being very active on various social medias. Mostly twitter.

@elizathesapphicSCREAMING my TA just announced that some of our earliest lgbt writers were great friends and roommates. i could teach this course better lmao

She wasn’t wrong.

@elizathesapphica limerick -there once was a TA from hellwhose hair is rock solid from gelhis voice is nasally and gratinghis ignorance is so fucking frustratinglet’s not forget he’s smarmy as well

Colleen had genuinely had to smother a laugh from that one. And, it turned out, from many others. The semester passed in a blur of moments - her twentieth birthday, an intense and stressful visit from her mom, juggling 6 courses and her first practicum - but Eliza stands out.

They don’t talk, because… well, what would they even talk about? They seem like really different people and Eliza is super lively, but she learns a lot about her.

If it wasn’t obvious from her twitter handle (obviously), she’s a lesbian. Who very much loves Margaery Tyrell - someone Colleen vaguely knows is a recently out politician - and Sansa Stark - who Colleen is very familiar with, because of the writings she’d done and the classes she’d taken that Sansa had TA’d for before she’d finished her master’s - and their very public relationship.

As well as many, many other lesbian celebrities and television shows that Colleen does not watch or follow, but is still entertained by because Eliza is entertaining.

At the end of the semester, she follows Eliza’s twitter on the account she never uses that is basically untraceable to her. It has her name on it, sure, but nothing else. No pictures. No retweets.

But Eliza’s twitter is good for a laugh and sometimes she needs that.

Fall 2019

“Ohhhh my godddd, Sara. Can you believe it’s her?” Eliza wrapped her arm around her best friend’s shoulders, pulling her close - as if they could shrink back against the wall behind them.

They were going home the following day for winter break and so it seemed like everyone who had an off campus apartment was throwing a party. Which was great because Eliza hadn’t gone out this semester much at all. There had been too much work and too much - uhhh well, being lazy and not wanting to leave her dorm when she could binge watch shows with Sara.

Sara elbowed her in the side accidentally as they fell back against the wall. “It’s who?”

She pointed across the large living area full of tipsy-to-drunk college students, to the front door. “Colleen! She - I don’t think she ever comes out? Why do you think she is right now?”

Sara’s eyes rolled before she jostled their shoulders. “Oh you mean your cruuuush. I don’t know, it’s the end of the semester. Everyone’s out. It’s not a big deal.”

Eliza ignored her and stared at Colleen as she and a friend Eliza recognized didn’t know the name of - she was a master social media creep but that didn’t help when someone didn’t have social medias - chatted and made their way across the room.

And her heart started racing. “Oh my gods. Oh. She’s coming over here. Do you think she -”

“We’re right next to the drinks, why do you think she’s coming over?” Sara’s retort quickly popped her rapidly inflating hopes, and she trained a critical eye on Colleen-Gorgeous-Durand. “That is dream crush girl?”

Eliza spun so quickly to face Sara that she nearly sloshed her vodka cranberry over the rim of her cup. “How can you say it like - like that? Look at her!”

“I mean. She is pretty. In a buttoned up way.” Sara turned to face her, having to tilt her head up just enough to quirk an eyebrow. “Is that your type? You haven’t dated much in our eight month friendship tenure.”

Eliza scoffed. “No! No. I don’t have a… type.” She started slapping Sara’s arm, “Ohhhh gods, she’s coming, she’s coming, she’s -”

Sara caught her hand and held it tight, hissing, “Calm down, you look insane.”

Colleen approached them with a nervous looking smile. “Hey. Can I ask where you got your drink?” She surveyed the table in front of her, dubiously, “I just don’t really see the mixer I want -”

It was like an automatic reaction. Eliza’s hand shot out and offered her cup, “Take it! Still full. Just made it. Made tons of them. See?” She held it up so the rim reflected the dim light. “I didn’t take a sip yet or anything. I can go make another cup.”

Those sky blue eyes were so brilliantly light and she gave the slightest twitch of an eyebrow as she accepted Eliza’s drink. “Um… thanks?”

“Yeah. No prob. Enjoy.” She grinned, knowing it was too bright for the moment, but whatever.

She felt triumphant, even when Sara collapsed against her in a fit of giggles as Colleen walked away. “Holy shit. I see now why you haven’t dated.”

“Um, what is that supposed to mean? She sought me out.” Now that she replayed the interaction, though, she could… sort of… see where she’d gone wrong.

Oh, fuck.

Sara only laughed harder, letting Eliza’s hand go and wrapping it around her waist in a hug. “Listen.” She tried to calm her laughter. “Listen. What I just witnessed means one of two things: your crush is an absolute idiot who took a drink from you, a weird ass stranger at a party. Or she actually somewhat recognizes you, too, and doesn’t think you’re a creepy stranger.”

“Oh, fuck. Now I need to find more cranberry juice.”

Spring 2020

“Who’s that girl over there? She keeps looking at us.” Colleen’s friend and flatmate, Natalia, commented. They were in the dining hall, which is a rarity since they hadn’t lived on campus since they were freshmen.

“What girl?”

“Pretty, dark hair, dark eyes. She has like 4 piercings up her ear. She has a rainbow pin on her backpack. Seems gay.”

Pretty with dark hair and eyes, the earrings, and the dead giveaway rainbow pin already tells her it’s most likely Eliza Harlow, even before she turns and looks. Colleen rolls her eyes. “How does she seem gay? Besides the rainbow pin,” she adds on, even though she knows - of course Eliza Harlow is gay.

Her still very active twitter is still hilarious and very, very full of lesbian pop culture. It’s gotten almost kind of frustrating, the fact that Eliza never really posts anything about herself on her twitter. Colleen definitely knows she is a lesbian more than anything - she posted something just last night about a pro soccer player and proclaimed that her lesbian heart wasn’t going to survive her coming out.

But she never posts anything about her own life. It’s not like Colleen cares? But she can’t help but be intrigued. It’s weird. But maybe that’s just the culture they live in these days.

She still turns and looks where Natalia is pointing, anyway. Sure enough, Eliza is sitting - backpack perched on the table next to her bagel, rainbow pin on display - with her ever present friend whose name Colleen knows is Sara (thanks, twitter). Pretty with her dark hair curling, as usual, over her shoulders.

And, Natalia was right. She’s throwing looks over at them.

Eliza had spoken to her for the first time, without having to do so for a class project, last week. She’d tossed her backpack over her shoulder super casually - Colleen had noticed out of the corner of her eye, as she’d packed up her own bag - and approached her.

“Can I borrow your notes?”

Colleen was always loathe to part with her notes. She took pride in them - even color coded them - and she doubted that strangers would take as much care with them as they deserved.

But Eliza… well, she didn’t really know her. But she didn’t feel like a stranger either. Especially with her eyes looking all hopeful and nervous. She wondered if Eliza had fallen behind in class with all of the work she was doing on her social medias. Or on her work for the internship she had at the Red Keep (thanks, twitter).

She’d handed over her notebook with a smile that was genuine.

“Whatever. The rainbow pin is why she seems gay, fine. But she’s coming over here.” Natalia brings her back to the moment, making a face at the meatloaf she’s eating before she pushes the tray away. 

Colleen sat up straighter, dropping her own fork. “That’s Eliza. We’re in Valyrian Lit class together.”

Eliza walked even closer, looking… apprehensive. Her big, expressive eyes were downcast, as she worried at her generous bottom lip. Which was weird because no, she didn’t know Eliza personally. But she kind of did know her personality. And she was not apprehensive.

It took a moment for Colleen to notice the notebook in her hands. And that it wasn’t the same green one - always green notebooks for lit classes - she’d given Eliza three days ago.

“Hey! Colleen! Hey. Uhhh. I have… your notebook.” Eliza held out the notebook toward her, shifting back and forth on her feet. “Your notes were - great. Such a help.”

“No problem, but…” Colleen eyed the notebook - a mint green as opposed to her hunter green. “That’s not mine.”

“No, it is! I - it is.” Eliza cleared her throat and slid it down onto the table. “It’s definitely yours, now. Um. The thing is. My obnoxious roommate  - I didn’t choose her? I was supposed to live with my friend, but then housing got all messed up and. It’s a whole thing,” she waved her hand, and Colleen, despite being so anal about what the fuck happened to her notebook, couldn’t help but be entertained. “The point is, she spilled her coffee all over your notebook.”

“What?!” All the gods, her notes. All her time and color coordination. And that had all of her handouts and - fuck. Dr. Lannister was not an easy professor to pass, his exams were notoriously difficult -

“Ohhhh, shit,” Natalia whispered.

Eliza quickly flipped the notebook open, frantically pointing at the pages. “No! Wait. I, I dried out your notebook and spent all last night re-writing your notes. I tried finding a matching notebook, but this was the only green one they had at the store. And I bought colored pens, because I figured out the color system, too. It’s all there. I swear. And I made copies of all of the handouts and put them in the back. Thanks. For the notes. I’ll never ask again, I swear.”

She hitched her backpack over her shoulder without another word and spun on her heel.

Colleen leaned over the table to peek at her notes and… wow. Eliza really did figure out her color coding system, even down to the obsessive tonal color changes for different types of literature. And. She skimmed her eyes quickly over the page - Eliza definitely left some insightful notes in here that Colleen herself had missed.

She turned her head to see if she could even call out her thanks to Eliza, but she was too far away. All she could see was the other girl slapping her palm against her forehead as she turned to leave the hall.

It made her smile.

Fall 2020

Professor Stark tapped her hands on her desk, “And as much as I know group projects aren’t everyone’s favorite thing, the sad reality is that we have to work with people in real life that we don’t get to choose. So, you will all individually document what you do in this project and then evaluate each other’s contributions at the end. You have your groups, the rubrik, and some examples to start with. Even though the project isn’t due for over a month, I would highly recommend starting it early.”

Eliza wouldn’t say she loved group work by any means, especially when the groups were assigned.

Colleen caught her eye and asked, “You want to come to my place this weekend to get started? I really don’t like to wait until the last minute for these kinds of things.”

Eliza was pretty sure she was going to write Sansa Stark a thank you letter.

#those who wait #sorta? spinoff #kinda romance novel #part 1 #at the very least it is giving me some fresh writing ideas flowing #ive needed this #thank you for having a modicum of interest anon #this just sets up some history for us was was funsies to write

[trans-advice]

I'm a trans guy and I'm going back to school soon, just getting some prereqs out of the way then trying to get into the fire academy. I'm afraid to start transitioning while I'm still living with my moms (I'm out but its complicated) and I cant move out until I finish school and get a better job but I cant stand the thought of finishing school and still being a girl. I dont know what to do

i’m sorry for the usa-centricism. i work with what i’ve got & know.

the draft is basically required for fasfa & govt benefits

firstly, i want to mention that (in usa) legal males have to register for the draft aka “selective service” in order to receive college funding. however since trans people are not allowed to change their gender markers on the draft forms until the draft becomes active again. also whether the marker will be changed &or whether you’re disqualified for the draft is up to the board. this means unless you’re able to get the documentation showing you are/were exempt or else otherwise register before your 26th birthday (you can only be 18-25 when registering), that you will likely lose your ability to get government grants for college & other things.

quote from 2005 https://transequality.org/issues/resources/selective-service-and-transgender-people

>

Failure to [register] is punishable by up to five years in prison and $250,000 in fines, though individuals have rarely been prosecuted. Applications for federal financial aid for higher education, federal employment, United States citizenship and other government benefits have been made contingent upon Selective Service registration in order to encourage compliance. Therefore, when applying for government benefits, transgender people can often face particular difficulties in regards to their Selective Service registration status.

>

here’s the draft’s faq mentioning transgender people.

https://www.sss.gov/QA

>

How does the Military Selective Service Act apply to individuals who have changed their gender identity from the sex assigned at birth?

Selective Service bases the registration requirement on gender at birth and not on gender identity or on whether they’ve had a sex change. Individuals who are born female and changed their gender to male are not required to register.  U.S. citizens or immigrants who are born male and changed their gender to female are still required to register.  The legal authority is based on the Military Selective Service Act (MSSA), which does not address gender identify or transsexual persons. In addition, Presidential Proclamation 4771 refers to “males” who were “born” on or after January 1, 1960.   Thus, Selective Service interprets the MSSA as applying to gender at birth because Congress did not contemplate transgender persons or a person’s gender identity when it required on “males” to register when the Selective Training and Service Act of 1940 was passed and amended by the Selective Service Act of 1948 to create the Selective Service System.  Until Congress amends the MSSA or passes a separate law addressing transsexuals and gender identity, Selective Service must follow the intent of the of Congress when it required only males to register – the registration requirement is based on gender at birth.

In the event of a resumption of the draft, individuals born male who have changed their gender to female can file a claim for an exemption from military service if they receive an order to report for examination or induction.

>

this next quote is from 2005. the current pdf link from the form this quote mentions is this one: https://www.sss.gov/Portals/0/PDFs/SIL.pdf?ver=2015-02-24-150707-763 note that you must be 26 or older to fill out this particular form.

(you might want to call the place up 1-888-655-1825.) therefore, Before you get your birth certificate changed, you must get the official copy with the incorrect gender marker & deadname before you change it (in order to prove that you had the wrong classification at birth). this is in order to give them a copy. i recommend getting like at least 3 notarized copies, because these copies will have to last your entire lifetime! (and we move around, have accidents happen, sometimes we don’t get them back etc.)

>

FOR INDIVIDUALS ASSIGNED FEMALE AT BIRTH

People who were assigned female at birth are not required to register with the Selective Service regardless of their current gender or transition status. When applying for federal financial aid, grants, and loans as a man, however, you may be asked to prove that you are exempt. To request a Status Information Letter (SIL) that shows you are exempt, you can either download an SIL request form from the Selective Service website (http://www.sss.gov/PDFs/SilForm_Instructions.pdf) or call them at 1-888-655-1825. This service is free and the exemption letter you will receive does not specify why you are exempt so it will not force you to out yourself in any other application process. The Selective Service does, however, require a copy of your birth certificate showing your birth-assigned sex. If the sex on your birth certificate has been changed, attach any documentation you have to that affect. Once you receive your Status Information Letter, keep it in your files. For those FTM people who transition before their eighteenth birthdays and change their birth certificates, it is also possible to register with the service. However, no one may register after their twenty-sixth birthday. Also, please note that although Selective Service materials refer to transgender people as “people who have had a sex change,” their policies apply to those who have transitioned regardless of surgical history.

>

there’s also this information from the how to register part when you’re between 18-25. i selected a very helpful means.

https://www.sss.gov/Registration/How-to-Register

>

CHECK BOX ON FAFSAAnother way a young man can register is to check a box on the application form for federal student financial aid (FAFSA). A man can check “Register Me” on Box #22 of that form, and the Department of Education will furnish Selective Service with the information to register the man.

>

it’s also unclear on whether legally designated women can voluntarily sign up for the draft or if they are going to be compelled to do so in the future because gender-neutrality. however the trend seems to be in that direction.

https://www.sss.gov/Registration/Women-And-Draft/Backgrounder-Women-and-the-Draft

https://www.sss.gov/Registration/Women-And-Draft

https://www.military.com/daily-news/2019/02/26/no-women-dont-have-sign-draft-yet-heres-whats-next.html

TLDR: figure out how you can register for the draft so you won’t lose federal funding for college.

reasons to start transitioning before you graduate:

i would suggest that it would help your professional networking if you were able to present who you are (which coincidentally) is a guy instead of having to retcon your time there by getting a court order to correct your name & gender marker after your classmates & teachers went their separate ways.

also if you get flack over guys having sexist advantages, i would just mention that while you are trying to weed-out transphobic employers that transgender people are discriminated against, etc too. basically transphobia exists & therefore you still suffer from sexism.

it would also help to complete school. the distress might be so strong that you drop out before you get a diploma/credential which will make student loan debt much harder to pay off. if you could get your gender dysphoria/distress/issues dealt with. it could also help with getting a job when you’ve already went thru the 2nd puberty/adulting into manhood when you’re not on the clock. (seriously, hormones during puberty is basically a rollercoaster that teens tend to experience. therefore you have to take that into account when you’re deciding when to transition.)

regarding legal paperwork here’s the information for changing your name & gender marker by state & it’s also commonly easier to change your driver’s license or your state ID than it is to change your birth certificate (which is fixed to the state that you were born in AKA you can’t just move to a place with better laws). (i’m sorry for the usa-centricism.):

 https://transequality.org/documents 

https://transequality.org/know-your-rights/social-security

also note that you need to make sure that your social security paperwork is also corrected when you get the changes as well.

good luck, peace & love,

eve

#resources #the draft #usa centric #selective service

[pallases]

#GOOD GOD LLEG ME OUT OF HERE #i know i should be studying for my physics exam rn but also like what’s the point i studied my ass off for the last one and still failed #it lmfao i don’t know what to do here. they’re worth 70% of our grade. i remain kicking myself for not going through w physics 2 over the #summer :/ it was the same prof i just finished w so i knew the exam format and got really good at it by the end of the class. i would have #been able to get a b at least in that one vs this one i don’t know if i’ll pass at all #and if i don’t pass it i don’t know what to do. it’s a prereq for at least one class next semester probably multiple and if it’s multiple #that means i’ll have to push back my internship which means i’ll have to extend an already 5 yr program. which i absolutely cannot afford #personal #the physics chronicles

[veridium]

sweet talk 101

PHEW. OKAY. 

Part ten? HOLY SHIT? We are in part 10 of this thing. I am so delighted. So, here, have some fluff with a light touch of melodrama (as is my specialty). @bitchesofostwick and I love torturing our kids with sweetness followed by sourness, apparently. 

ON THIS EPISODE: Cass and Liv are doing the whole friendship.com thing, though Liv can’t help but still wonder what her new pal’s plans are. One thing she knows for sure is that all her assumptions are quickly flying out the window. A text from her Mom reminds her of the fragility of her privacy and her expectations. Meanwhile, sweet bb Ellinor prepares for a totally casual and not at all scintillating project meeting with her blonde, handsome partner. WHAT COULD GO WRONG?

Episode title brought to you by my falling back down the rabbit hole of Cute is What We Aim For’s music, especially this particular song. 

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 // part 5 // part 6 // part 7 // part 8 // part 9 

-- 

A week after Ellinor and Cullen are assigned their project --

2:57pm. Dammit, it’s 2:57pm. Call it already, Professor Lucas.

“Alright, that will be all.”

That is all she hears before her mind goes exclusively to packing up her lecture notebook, pencil bag, and canteen into her backpack. It’s get the hell out of dodge time. Up out of her seat and out the door as the Professor warns about the midterm study sessions coming up. Yes, yes, fine, she’ll ace the practice exam as usual. That doesn’t matter.

It’s Tuesday, and she’s got plans.

Jogging down the steps in her calf-high boots, she searches through the crowds of foot traffic and sees the pixie-cut she’s been waiting to see, against a lamp post. Blue skinny jeans and a t-shirt underneath a leather fitted jacket. A resting bitch face that turns to cordial stoicism, and melts her into smiling. Olivia has a type and she can’t even deny it anymore: women who look like they’d be just as ready to step on you as make you laugh.

“Hey!” she says as she walks up, a perk in her step that makes her ponytail bounce.

Cassandra grins and stands tall, holding her phone. “Hey!”

“You said wear pants.”

“That I did.”

Olivia eyes her, fending off the urge to giggle nervously like a beguiled school girl. “Do I get to find out why? I don’t usually cater to people’s whims, case you couldn’t tell.”

Cassandra’s grin grows. “Really? Last I checked, I am now 5-0 with requests on your time and company.”

OH. Ohoho. OHO. Olivia’s hands go balmy, a visceral response to being hung out to dry with just a simple sentence. She’s right, though. After their meet up at the Church, texting had recommenced at their expedient frequency. That had led to a redemption coffee outing on the following Wednesday, where Olivia sat down in place long enough to actually finish her chai. That would have been bad enough, if not for the wandering into a used bookstore afterward, where Olivia couldn’t resist mock reading from old social science journals to really drive their asinine, outdated theories home. That was the first time she heard Cassandra laugh. Honest to goodness laugh. It made her break character.

But ego does not pay any mind to sentimentality in the moment of injury.

She swats Cassandra on the back of her upper arm before folding hers against her tightened chest. “You got a punch card going or something, asshole?” 

Cassandra chuckles low. A cocky chuckle. The confidence looks good on her, when it overpowers her steady and thoughtful exterior. “Come on, I only got a few minutes loaded on the parking meter.”

She’s unceremonious but charming as they walk down the sidewalk bordering front quad. It had been an odd text to wake up to, a request that she wear close-fitting shirt and pants, and bring something to tie back her hair. It reminds her of when adults would chide her and her friends in high school for letting people tell them how to dress. No one was allowed to do that! Unless, of course, they were your parents, your elders, the federal government…

A few minutes walk to a back parking lot, and they come to the front line of spots. Just down the line, passed the handicap spots, there’s a shiny black and purple bike cocked to the side, and two helmets resting on the seat.

She stops in her tracks. Cassandra walks a few feet ahead, before she turns and faces her.

“No fucking way,” Olivia’s eyes go wide, mouth dropping open. “You’re shitting me.”

“Yes, because I definitely am a prankster,” Cassandra shakes her head. “Come on, you said you spend your weekends on bikes. Or was that you, shitting me?”

Olivia is getting sick of this woman being perfect. It’s nauseating, almost -- and by that, she means increasingly irresistible and that is becoming a problem. In all actuality it would make sense; kids who grew up in families like the Pentaghasts rarely had an interest that wasn’t generously indulged just because they could afford to do so. She probably had a inkling to ride a bike when she was nine, and they groomed her all the way up to being a licensed rider who competed in tournaments or something berserk like that. Just casual. 

She slings her backpack straps onto both shoulders. “Well, shit.”

“What?” Cassandra asks as they resume walking.

“Nothing, I am just rarely rendered speechless.”

“Now that, I believe,” she smiles, a skip in her step as she bounces off the sidewalk onto the asphalt, grabbing both helmets and handing one to her. “Be honest, have you ridden on a bike before?”

Oh, sweetheart. Olivia laughs and takes the helmet, pulling her hair ponytail down to rest at the nape of her neck. “No, never. Absolutely not. I am a good girl.”

Cassandra sits up, back straight as she zips up the jacket she’s wearing. Now it makes sense why it reminds her of a moto jacket in a magazine. “I’m serious, Liv. Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

“Ugh, I have, many times in fact.” Olivia sticks her tongue out before slipping her head into the helmet. It’s a bit snug, but that’s not a bad thing when it comes to helmets. “Just sit still and look pretty while I do my backflips on the freeway.”

“And people say I am relentless.” Cassandra smirks before putting her helmet on and standing up, swinging a leg onto the front seat. Olivia is way too besotted by the simple act of her straddling a bike for it to be healthy. A 20-something’s blood pressure is not supposed to spike like that. “Well, let’s go then.”

Olivia’s heart races. It’s a simple request. She’s done it more than a dozen times. Get on the bike, hold the person by the sides of their waist, and enjoy the ride. Holding her breath, she approaches and does as Cassandra did, bringing a leg over -- God, the bike is tall -- and perches herself on the back seat.

Cassandra takes hold of her steering, and Olivia takes hold of her. Leaving room for Jesus, to be sure. Out the corner of her eye she spots a small group of onlooking people outside the doors to the building in front of the lot. They look like a bunch of east coast preps lost on their way to the nearest Hollister, and their faces are anything but pleased. One girl with french braids and a binder to her chest, brow furrowing. A guy, hands on his hips, wearing a knit Ralph Lauren-looking sweater even though it’s a 70 degrees out at least. A couple others, but it’s those two faces that stink the most. 

What’s good, bro? Got milk with fat in your latte this morning, Chadworth? she sneers in her head. Her temper has two gears: territorial pomeranian, and pomeranian gone off the rails. 

Cassandra kicks up the stand and revs the engine. “Ready?” she yells over her shoulder.

Olivia’s hands press harder against her waist, and she refocuses. “Negative, Ghost Rider, the pattern is full.” She then leans against her back, as close as her mouth can get to her ear. “Hell yeah I am.”

They reverse and then blow the popsicle stand. Cassandra rides well, and she doesn’t speed or try things. Corners are careful, speed limits respected. When they merge onto the freeway Olivia leans against her straight rather than do what she likes to do -- tricks like tossing her arms into the air, arching back, feeling the adrenaline race in her veins. Instead, she holds on, and takes in the scene racing on either side of them. No backflips.

Eventually they get off several exits down and pull into uptown where the pho shop is. It’s small, and tucked away a bit, but it’s a favorite among “the students” as the locals would say. They find a table by the window, small and built for two, and go ham on two bowls of soup.

“Oh yeah, toss those babies in,” Olivia teases, sliding her bowl across so Cassandra can drop in the peppers she doesn’t want. “Ah, yes, glorious. Thank you.”

Cassandra grins, throwing in the last piece and then grabbing for more bean sprouts. “Your table manners are compelling.”

“Good, it took me five years of debutante training to get me to stop hanging off the chandeliers.”

“Only five?”

“Five...and a half,” she wags her finger in the air, her other hand stirring her noodles around. Cassandra is spooning some broth to her lips, not a single sound of slurping or crass inhaling. It’s textbook table etiquette.

“So, how was your day?” she asks after she swallows.

“Good. Class was good...a lecture on the Peloponnesian war. I should have known better than take an Antiquated history class without bothering with the prereq.”

“What, is it difficult?”

“Not...exactly,” Liv shrugs, tossing a piece of beef into her mouth. “It’s just involved. Like, everyone there wants to be the next great archeologist or history authority. I just want to know how we got this point in our society, get an A, and move on.”

Cassandra wipes the side of her lip with her napkin, before placing it to the table and picking up another bundle of noodles between her chopsticks. “I can understand that. Some people really get bizarre in those classes. I once got into it with a guy who insisted on his hair-brained reddit factoids being true even though they stipulated that Stalin was like, this nice guy who loved kids and lattes.”

“Agh! What the fuck?”

“I know. I nearly asked him to throw hands on the quad afterward. Tell him where he could put his soviet apologia. I hate it when I’m made to feel like reduced to capitalist swine just for telling Craig whoever-the-hell that all his heroes died despotic cowards, and it’s not an ‘ironic’ fascination if he has a giant U.S.S.R flag hanging in his dorm room.”

Olivia snorts as she’s mid-gulp of broth, her hand going to her mouth and cupping against her lips and wet nose. She turns away briefly to wipe off her mess, while Cassandra looks on with a smile. A habitual concern is smearing her lipstick, but as she’s pressing, she remembers she didn't put on any that morning. In fact, she hardly bothered with anything more than concealer and eyeliner. She could rub her face in a thick towel, and it would be fine.

“I hope that was meant to be a laugh. You okay?” she comments, taking in another mouthful of noodles.

“You know,” Olivia remarks as she presses her napkin to her face, hopefully not smearing her contour or highlight, “you comment a lot on my quirks. You got a problem, Pentaghast?”

“Not at all, Sinclair. Why would I?” she tilts her chin, her hand stilling.

“Uh, I don’t know. You bothered, or whatever.” Maybe you’re trying to tell me to stop doing it by commenting, like my parents do. Darling, you’re mouth breathing. Sweetie, you talk when you can’t improve the silence.

“Nah,” Cassandra chews small, “Just teasing. If anything, your concern should be that I find you too fascinating to be real.”

Butterflies. She’s been causing them more lately ever since they agreed to this ‘friendship.’ Because that was totally what was supposed to happen when you’re good pals.

“Hm,” Olivia nods, preparing another bite in her bowl. “I’ll take that answer.”

“Lofty affirmation.”

“Yep.”

They settle into eating for a minute or two. Her phone had sat untouched on the corner of the table, on silent, too. Texts and calls don’t matter in the moment. It’s her getaway for more reasons than she’d like to admit.

“Speaking of bothered. Cullen’s still trying to pretend he doesn’t care that Ellinor wants to be friends. There’s no living with him,” Cassandra says, breaking the contented silence. “It’s been, what, a week since they got that group project assignment?”

“Ugh, yeah,” Olivia watches her broth as she stirs around the floating veggies. “Ellinor won’t stop not talking about it. But they’re finally meeting up soon, right? They have to. It’s like, the rule of group projects.”

“...Does she like him?”

“Does he like her?”

Their eyes meet, and smiles grow on both their faces. Olivia laughs to off-set her nerves from it. “Shit, obvious answers are obvious.” 

She shakes some more of the hoisin sauce into her bowl, before tossing it up in the air towards Cassandra’s side. Cassandra, in her athletic prowess, catches it without so much as looking up.

“You’re keeping me on my toes. What’s next, another ‘trust’ fall?”

Olivia shakes her head mockingly and upturns her nose. “The lady doth protest too much, methinks.”

“You got the wrong girl if you’re looking for lack of protestation,” Cassandra counters, mixing.

“Maybe you’d find better company with those people watching us get on your bike. They looked full of ideas to protest. Women’s reproductive choice, suffrage, poor people having rights…”

“You mean Daniel and everyone?”

Great. Of course, she knows them. “...Uh, sure?”

“Hah,” Cassandra shakes her head. “They’re opinionated, alright. Just not very good, or original, at it. They go to Church. Our families know each other. All fun friends at the ski lodge and mission trips,” she mocks, eyes rolling a bit.

Church, church, church. It all went back to Church. That was perhaps the most religious thought she had ever had on her own volition.

“So, I take it they’re not very cool?”

“That’s one way of putting it. Insufferable is another.”

“Does that mean they don’t like you being around me?”

Cassandra holds her noodles mid-air hanging on the chopsticks as she pauses to give her a look. “Liv, they dislike a lot of things.”

“Yeah, but, they were giving me shitty glares of death in the parking lot. And I’m not a thing.”

“I didn’t say you where. I just meant that--”

“It’d make sense, I mean...promiscuous witch straddling your bike with her blasphemous thighs, you riding off on the highway to hell,” she starts to choke on her laugh, unable to keep a straight face.

Cassandra smiles smartly. There’s a glimmer in her eye that wasn’t there before. “I try not to worry what other people think. It gets ridiculous after a while, if you let it under your skin. My family brings enough attention to my life as it is. I don’t need to treat everything like tabloid fodder in my free time. But if I did, I’d want it to be written using your flare for vivid imagery.”

She’s eloquent, even when she’s hanging out with no audience. A bit awkward on the delivery at times, but sincere. It’s adorable.

“Right,” Olivia crinkles her nose, “heh, you’re right. I shouldn’t have picked. It’s pointless. I am who I am, anyways.”

“Yes, you are.” She looks up and sees Cassandra admiring her with that quiet, confident stare. A straight mouth, but softened eyes. It’s all in the eyes.

They finish more than an hour later, way passed the amount of time it objectively takes to down a small order of pho. They also take their time walking back to her bike. It’s a partly cloudy day, but warm -- worth the dallying. Olivia will probably get sunburnt, but there’s no reason to care. She does that thing where she pretends she’s walking on a tightrope, and even hops on a couple side-by-side benches to do so. Cassandra keeps to herself, but matches her pace at every slow-down and quickening of steps.

Then, she does one of those things that surprises Olivia just as she thinks she has the situation settled: as she approaches the end of the last bench, Cassandra offers her hand to her. She stops and stares at it, probably longer than she should if the goal is to play it all cool and nonchalant. 

Her eyes flicker to Cassandra’s. She’s looking at her with civil kindness, impossible to read. Olivia tucks her chin a bit, grins, and glides her palm ever-so-quickly against hers. She hops down and feels the bracing strength in her handhold -- it was not needed, but it was something else. Something humbling. With her feet back on the ground, she is the first to remove her hand, so that she doesn’t have to survive the sensation of Cassandra being the first to break away. 

Eventually it’s back on the bike and to campus where they belong. On the way, Olivia leans against her back, inch for inch, but it’s no big deal. Jesus still has room, somewhere, right? At one point, though, when they are rounding onto a neighborhood street -- one she recognizes as being a couple blocks from Rylen’s house of horrors -- she lets her hand go out to the side, fingers spindling through the air. Cassandra looks over, but due to the helmet, she can’t tell whether she’s mad or not. She doesn’t say anything, and Cassandra is the kind of person to say something -- so she takes it as approval.

When they pull into the fire lane behind her dorm and stop, Olivia would rather stick a hair pin in her eye and dismount. But, she makes it look easy as best she can, hopping down and sliding the helmet off her head. She hands it back to her while shaking her hair loose. Cassandra remains on her seat, but sits up. It gives Olivia leave to stand close, for the sake of the engine noise.

“Thanks for the ride. It was a perfect first bike trip,” she teases, thumbs hooking onto her backpack straps.

“No problem,” Cassandra projects through the rim of her helmet.

Olivia rolls her lip. “I’ll...uh, I’ll text you.”

“Please do.”

Dammit with that poker face. What gives? What’s in it for her? What’s got her so smug?

“Okay, well…” she rocks her weight between her toes and her heels, “get home safe!”

“I will. Have a good night, Olivia.”

This is where she is supposed to walk away. Again. She nods and turns for the door to the ground floor. Although, Cassandra does not turn tail and leave until Olivia is fully inside, safe and sound -- as if that were a concern to have, logically.

Oh, she can do that, but she can’t push be back on the bike seat and...

Once inside, she exhales her pent up breath and shoulders the wall, groaning. Everything is great, but yields no decisive result. Cassandra makes being straight look like a corkscrew roller-coaster ride, and feel like it, too. Olivia is signing up for every go-around she can, only to be dropped off and told to collect her bag and loose jewelry from the cubby hole.

Her thoughts go quiet as she gets up the stairs, and onto her and Ellinor’s floor. And who does she meet coming her way but the grunge queen herself, who’s face flushes in the instant they see each other. Ellinor is dressed for public, and carrying her bag. Her book bag. It’s gotta be no later than 5pm. She tries to pivot and go the other way, but Olivia is hep to her antics.

“No no, no you don’t missy!” she calls after her, walking faster to catch up, “get back here!”

“I don’t...I cant...I can’t hear you!” Ellinor mouths while she stuffs her other headphone back in her ear.

“Ellinor Trevelyan!”

She freezes, shoulders bunch against her ears.

“That’s right. Turn around and meet your maker. Where are you going at this temperate evening hour?”

“Uh…” Ellinor side-steps, “I got...homework…”

“What kind of homework? Would that be...Lit homework?”

“No!”

Olivia stops in front of her, and with a swift fist she punches her best friend’s bookbag. It feels like a sack of cinderblocks. “Right. That’s Lit class heaviness. Try again.”

Ellinor sucks on her cheek, folding her arms that are wrapped in hoodie sleeves. “I’ve got Lit homework. Sue me.”

“Oh, you bet your ass you do. A project’s worth. You going to meet with someone?”

“Maybe. I got friends, you know.”

Olivia narrows her eyes. “Bullshit. Who?”

“No one in the vicinity…”

“Hah! You’re meeting up with him! Fucking finally!”

Ellinor slumps and bends her knees, tossing her head back. “Shit, yes okay, fine. I am. We have a meet-up. I’m doing what I’m supposed to. Got it? Had your fun?”

Olivia dances from foot to foot, smiling and giggling with triumph. “Ohoho, don’t stay out too late, child. Curfew it at 9:30pm! Make good choices! Don’t let him get all in your petticoats!”

Ellinor looks ready to astral project out of this dimension and call it a day. But, as Olivia passes her and backwards steps so that she can continue mocking her with giggles and singing words, she surprisingly stays grounded in this plane of existence.

“Stu-dy bud-dies, stu-dy bud-dies, stu-dy bud-dies!” Olivia chants, scooting her boots back towards her door down the hall.

“Yeah, right! Better than noodle buddies! Get enough slurping?!” Ellinor barks back.

Olivia blushes and bites her lip, before turning her but toward her and perking it up. “Never enough!”

“Ugh, son of a--”

“Buh-bye, friend! Have fun! Kiss kiss fall in love!”

Ellinor makes her escape, drawing the line at old anime haunts of their freshman year depression pit. That leaves Olivia at her door, keys rustling in her backpack side pocket. She gets out her phone and makes quick for her messages, typing in Cassandra’s name.

-- I think Ellinor is coming over to your place for their project. Look alive and be prepared to evacuate the premises if necessary, lol. 

Olivia shoves her key in her lock and feels another buzzing sensation. Thinking -- hoping -- it’s Cassandra, she looks quick.  

To her disappointment, it’s Mom:

-- Do not forget the gala coming up! You HAVE to come home before! Mom-daughter time at the spa, LOL! Love ya! XO

Right. God dammit. She lets her arms fall and rocks her forehead into her door, groaning with the bane of a thousand tempers. Right around midterms, no less. Cassandra was right -- it was fatiguing to care about what other people thought. But it was different to overcome that when your entire life was groomed for social climbing, instead of you being born already at the top like she had. It’s easier not to care when you’re looking down at all your critics.

But, Mommy-Daughter spa time! ‘LOL’ was not the sentiment she would have used to describe it. “Fate worse than death she must relive for all time” -- now that, that was an apt descriptor. She gets in through her door, drops her stuff on her desk, and hops into the shower soon after. Once that’s done and she returns wrapped in a towel, her thoughts have spun once or twice around the planet’s equator. Turning the lamp on as its getting dark outside, she unplugs her phone from the charger by her desk, and pulls up Ellinor’s name in her texts.

-- My Mom isn’t dropping the museum trustee gala nightmare she wants to drag me to. I want to walk the plank. Hope your not-study date is going well! Tell Cullen hey for me, and be niceee!!!! 

She’ll probably invite Ellinor to come along so that her Mom doesn’t get to push her onto the arm of one of her girlfriends’ sons, or even worse, one of Olivia’s beefcake cousins. It’s more than annoying, it’s excruciating, and she hates that it is. 

Collapsing back on her bed, she exhales with the daydream of Cassandra by the lamp post wearing that jacket. She wants it all to herself, safe and sound. Fuck.

#fic update #adventures of ellinor and olivia #ellinor trevelyan #modern thedas au #college au #olivia sinclair #modern!olivia #WHOOO THE CHEMISTRY IN THIS CHILI'S TONIGHT

[jiminshoney]

Where You Belong (Part 1)

Word Count: 7,522

Summary: When your relationship hits a rough patch you fall into the comfort of Taehyung who has, unfortunately, fallen for you. Possibly a soulmate au, not a typical one. // Taehyung x Reader x Jungkook

A/N: I haven’t posted my writing in quite some time so this is giving me lots of anxiety but I can’t stay away from writing angst so thank you to my dear friend Natalia for supporting this story and encouraging me to share it

-----

When you met Jungkook during your first year of college, you were enchanted the very moment his big brown eyes locked with yours and he smiled. He’d been chatting with your friend outside one of the science labs while she waited on you. Upon your arrival she introduced the two of you quickly, explaining that Jungkook was her partner for a project in their biology class. You remember feeling like you could melt when he’d shaken your hand, the contrast of his warm fingertips against the December frost swooned you alone. You felt yourself unable to tear from his gaze while your friend’s voice blurred into the background.

He’s beautiful, you thought.

After he left your friend shoved you harshly, commenting on how obvious you were.

“You’ve practically got fucking hearts bulging out of your eyes,” she’d said. But you were too busy watching his figure disappear off the trails to care. So what if she noticed? “You can forget about it, there’s 20 other girls like you right now who want him. He’ll never give you the time of day.”

You only scowled at her, annoyed. She was wrong, you had just experienced love at first sight. Mutually. At least that’s what you convinced yourself initially. Why else would he have smiled at you so confidentiality, or stared into your eyes for so long. What else could explain the way your heart was forcefully pounding in your chest.

Well, not love, because after that day your friend’s words proved to be true. The second time you ran into him was during a brief exchange in the library, if you could even call it that. You saw him a few feet away walking out of the computer lab just as you were heading there. You waved your hand high to get his attention, stopping in your tracks as you stood there grinning, expecting him to meet you in the middle. Instead, he offered a toothless smile and nod as he continued towards his original destination, not faltering at all. The rush of air that passed took the breath out of your chest along with it, leaving you with a genuine feeling of stun.

Did he just reject me?

Anytime you think back to that day your ears burn with embarrassment. You wonder how stupid you must’ve looked standing there expectantly. He probably brushed it off though, tossing you and the memory into file with other thirsty girls who sought after him like puppies.

You didn’t want to be like them though. And not for the sake of standing out from the other girls to get noticed- not for that at all. But because you didn’t want to be a trivial memory in his mind of someone who was probably desperate or going to chase after him. You were neither of those things. So you chose to crush on him silently from a distance. You didn’t know much about him back then if anything at all, maybe it was only his attractiveness that drew you in, but it didn’t stop the feeling in your heart whenever you saw him around. Even if he paid you no mind.

-----

It became apparent nearly a year later that the boy never even remembered your name. It was the first day of sophomore year then and you finally found yourself in a shared classroom with Jungkook. The professor had put you all in rotating groups to do self introductions. When you found yourself in front of him he smiled at you the same way he had before.

Maybe I’m not special and he smiles at everyone like that.

“You look familiar...” He’d said.

You prayed that familiarity was from your first meeting and not that cringey moment in the library.

“Er, yeah… we’ve met.”

“We have?”

“I’m Mimi’s friend.”

“Mimi?”

“Seriously? You had a bio class with her last fall, you guys did your final project together how can you-”

“Ohhh! Oh, oh, oh! I remember her now! Sorry…” He looked down solemnly and pursed his lips, “I’m forgetful, I’m sorry. Especially when it comes to ridiculous prerequisite classes I never wanted to be part of in the first place.”

Chuckling you told him, “It’s alright.” Voice coming out softer than planned. You felt apologetic yourself to him though you’d done nothing wrong.

He looked back up to you and smiled warmly, “Tell me your name again.”

“It’s Y/N. But I assume you’ll forget again in three months time when the quarters over? Since this is another ridiculous prereq and all...”

Laughter bubbled out of him at that, and you noticed the way his nose scrunched when he did so. His adorableness had you reeling. It made you want to lean over the table and peck his face, and without self-control you just may have. But you had it so instead you admired how cute he looked from your seat. Heart squeezing in your chest all the while.

“Nope.” He shook his head, raven black hair brushing over his twinkling eyes. “I won’t forget you this time.”

-----

Like a real man true to his word, Jungkook didn’t.

Not that he even had a chance to.

During that quarter you and Jungkook hit a spark and ended up spending more and more time together. It started off innocently, using ‘studying’ as an excuse to invite the other over to their dorm. But those days frequently turned into movie nights or you’d end up together at some 24-hour diner past midnight. (Those nights happened more than they should have for two college students.) Eventually you both stopped pretending homework was the only thing bringing you together and just hung out as usual whenever possible. You two were inseparable. Jungkook had become your best friend.

-----

Jungkook never confessed to you, never came right out and said hey Y/N I like you more than a friend, he didn’t need to. The feelings were always there, they came on early and they came on strong. His reciprocation was simply understood through his actions and your bond, communicating it wasn’t necessary.

That’s precisely why you didn’t pull away shocked when he kissed you at a New Years Eve party. Sure the timing surprised you a bit because you weren’t expecting it, but your hands naturally found their place on the back of his neck to pull him closer. It was nice not having to go through the- waityoulikemesincewhenohmygod conversation. When he broke apart from you, you only had to say, “Finally.”

That’s when the two of you became official. You hate having to tell the story though.

“It’s fucking cheesy,” You tell him every time. “Like, of course you’d kiss me on New Years.”

He just laughs at you, eyes crinkling the way you love so much.

-----

For your senior year, you and Jungkook decide to get an apartment together off campus. It’s nothing spectacular, the rooms have been remodeled but the building is old so it comes with it’s fair share of problems and the location feels inconvenient at times. But it’s a space you get to share together.

-----

February, just a month after your two year anniversary, Jungkook lands an internship with a budding gaming company. It was an amazing thing, you felt just as thrilled as him when he got chosen for the opportunity. The only real annoyance that came was that he spent nearly all his evenings at the company which just meant you spent (too much) time alone.

-----

One Wednesday afternoon when the air happened to be too thick to only be inching its way towards spring, you’d went on one of your typical solo errand runs to the grocery store. You didn’t like to go to the store too frequently so you almost always ended up buying enough food to last the both of you about two weeks. It ended up being a hassle though to carry the multiple bags alone on the walk back to your apartment. The squishy sound of thin plastic rubbing against itself always seemed too loud without Jungkook there to make you forget what you were doing anyway.

Coming up to the entrance, you struggled to get a proper grip on the handle, unable to pull open the heavy metal door to your complex with hands full of grocery bags. You huff, annoyed because there’s a gentleman inside who doesn’t seem to notice, so you kick the door to get his attention. He rushes over quickly, pushing the glass forward to let you in easily.

“Do you need help?” He offers, seeming to count just how many of those plastic filled bags you’re carrying.

“It’s fine,” You mutter. “Thanks.”

With perfect timing the elevator dings and the man rushes in front of you, holding his arm out to make sure the doors stay open while you step on.

“What floor do you need?” He asks, already pressing the 5 as he comes in behind you.

You look at him quizzically then, you realize you’ve never seen this man before and you knew everybody from your floor. “Uh, five…” You twist your wrists as the doors shut, trying to easy the strain in your joints.

“Oh, we’re going to the same floor! You sure I can’t hold a few of those?”

“It’s fine.”

“What room are you in?”

You arch a brow at him, how much caution should you be taking? He seems harmless, but the fact you’ve never seen him before and he wants to know where you live is strange. To your knowledge there aren’t any vacancies for new tenants on your floor either.

The doors ding open again upon reaching the fifth floor. Suspicious, you don’t step out quite yet.

“My apologies, this is improper. My name is Kim Taehyung, I’m the new property manager. Just tryin’ to get acquainted with everyone that’s all. Didn’t mean to rub you the wrong way.”

“Ahhh,” Visibly relaxing, you exit the elevator in timing with his steps, remembering a notice the landlord mailed out to everyone after the holidays. “Mr.Lee said he was going to hire someone to help out here!”

“Yes, that’s me.” He says proudly, revealing a charming boxy smile.

He’s handsome, you think, finally noticing the amount of radiance this man exudes and the most endearing smile you’ve ever seen. After Jungkook, of course. It’s almost alluring.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Y/N. I’m in 503.”

“Y/N from 503. I’ll remember that. Mr.Lee will send out another notice on how to reach me quickly by phone but I’ll be in 511 if you ever need me. Just down the hall.” He giggles and there’s a familiar thump in your chest but you don’t put much thought into it.

“You’ll be living here?”

“Well, yeah?”

“Sorry- you seem young it’s weird to think of you as the property manager.” You tease.

“Mm, should I call myself an assistant then? Between you and I my jobs pretty easy actually. People come to me with the problem, I’ll check it out, then tell the boss whether it’s a real problem or not so he can pay for it.”

“I hope that’s not what you put on your resume.”

“Oh no, I’ll fluff it up with shit about me doing regular electrical and plumbing assessments and taking the lead on conflict resolution for tenant complaints.”

Taehyung’s humor makes you share a bout of laughter momentarily, before the air around you starts to feel too hot. The outdoor humidity must’ve followed it’s way in.

“As much as I would love to stay and chat with you, I should go… I’m putting on a brave face but I feel like my hands could fall off any moment now.”

“Right, of course, go! It was nice meeting you Y/N.”

“You as well.”

You couldn’t have known it then, why your insides felt so warm and the air so stuffy. The weather seemed easy to blame when it was already in the mid 70s and maybe the ac isn’t adjusting properly. But that wasn’t it, if only a small piece of it.

-----

Sometime during the summer after you and Jungkook graduated, he was offered a full time position from the company he’d been interning for. He was hesitant at first, unsure if he should even accept the job. He’d gone to school for graphic design and always knew he wanted to do something in the realm of multimedia. Unfortunately, they created a role to stand beside the web developer. His words were that it felt insincere, as if they’d just flicked him into a random department to assist. He also complained the developer worked in seclusion, keeping to herself downstairs in a room where it was quieter. Surely, having to be stuck with her every day all day would be boring… he would have nowhere near as much fun as he’d had for the past half-year being able to dabble with different teams.

You on the other hand were as excited as you were the first time around. Sure it wasn’t his dream, he hadn’t imagined assisting on web content right out of school. But hell, he was lucky enough to even be offered a job related to what he studied. Plus, they made room for him. They liked him that much, so much so that they created a job just so he could stick around. It didn’t mean he had to stay in that role, he could move around as other opportunities became available. And if not, he could at least take the experience to help land him his next job.

Reluctantly, he accepted.

The first few weeks he complained a lot. There were lots of mornings he ignored his alarm and you had to force him out of bed. There were nights he came home so dejected there were no amount of kisses in the world that could pull him out of his rut.

“You hate it that much?” You sighed one night, plopping down next to him on the edge of the bed.

He shrugged, kicking his feet childishly. “I’d rather be working on game development or animation or something with the other guys upstairs. I don’t give a shit about the stupid website.”

“But you still get to design stuff right?”

“Not even…” He lets out a frustrated sigh, letting his body fall back on the bed. You follow his actions, wrapping an arm around his middle as he continues. “There’s barely anything for me to do since Lia just takes on everything. She makes me fix bugs or upload new updates. Like today, a new banner of hers got approved so I literally just dragged it onto the page, waited 30 minutes for the sync to complete, then when I was done she told me to figure out why the paypal link on the checkout page wasn’t working and fix that.”

He rolls his eyes and you know none of this is supposed to be funny but seeing him pout like this you can’t help but chuckle. “I’m sorry, baby.” You coo, tilting your chin to kiss the underside of his jaw. “Maybe it’s just because she doesn’t quite trust you yet, you know? You gotta show some initiative, come up with your own ideas and share them with her. Maybe then she’ll let you handle bigger tasks.”

“I don’t know. It’s starting to feel like some shitty internship-- Y/N I swear to God if she ever asks me to go get coffee I’m quitting.”

You wish he would have been more resistant. You wish he would’ve ignored your initial attempts to convince him. You wish he threw in the towel when it first started making him unhappy. You wish he would’ve just put his foot down and said no, this isn’t what I want to do. Even if it meant he had to settle elsewhere until things looked up.

You wish he never stayed with that company. Because as things got better and he became more satisfied with work, he became more detached from you.

The change wasn’t blatantly obvious at first, it happened gradually. He always gave you a hug and kiss as soon as he got home, sometimes he didn’t. He always texted you throughout the day, sometimes he didn’t. Sometimes eventually became all the time when you two never spoke during the day anymore and you realized you always kissed him first.

But he’d still kiss you back, still cuddle up to you at night and tell you that he missed you today, still say I love you before you left off to work. Through the changes he kept you hanging somewhere in the middle.

Weeks went by and his supervisor finally let him take lead on an app the company was about to launch. Like always, you were happy for him, though it proved to be no help in your relationship. Being able to execute all his ideas and design layouts- he left work before you now, and if it wasn’t that he wouldn’t be home til nearly midnight. When he was home during the evening his attention remained on his laptop. You started falling asleep outside his embrace, his hands too busy tending to his tablet where he was probably drawing something.

“Don’t stay up too late.” You’d say, though it would already be nearing 2 AM. You would try to fight your own fatigue, wanting to wait for him to finish so you could fall asleep together but there was no use. He’d hum a response, at least giving you enough attention for a second to let you know he heard you. But he wouldn’t kiss you or at bare minimum utter a goodnight.

You couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Perhaps life was sending your relationship to the ringer. You’d gone these years in your own little world of secluded bliss, maybe it was time that life tested the strength of your bond. Perhaps no longer being students but two working adults in the “real” world was just taking its toll. Maybe he was so focused and happy about projects at work that by the time he got with you he was distracted and didn’t have the energy to give that enthusiasm back to you.

It wasn’t all bad all the time, at least you had Taehyung.

-----

During Taehyung’s first few weeks getting acclimated with the building and all the new faces and names he had to memorize, you often saw him around, always dressed neatly in a white button-down tucked into black slacks. He came across professional and put together, making you feel the pressure of needing to remain poised and impressionable even though he was the one trying to do just that. He always addressed you by name, a nice change from Mr. Lee’s scratchy “Uh, 5th floor right?” when he saw you. To be fair, the old man was hardly around and owned two complexes which meant more people to keep up with.

Taehyung was a delight and winning over everyone’s hearts in no time. He added a vending machine in the gym, stocked with gatorade and water bottles which was a thousand times better than the dinky fountains. You heard from a girl on the floor above yours that when her window cracked he had it taken care of before the weekend. Through word of mouth you heard he always bought coffee for the security guard working graveyard shift, supposedly dinner sometimes too. You never had to call him for anything but everyone always said he was extremely easy to get in contact with. It probably helped that he lived here and didn’t seem to have any other day job but it was still another nice change from Mr.Lee who’s record response time was three business days.

The two of you first got close one evening when he was entering the building just as you were leaving. He was dressed in a sapphire blue dress suit, the first time you’d seen him in anything other than his normal attire and of course it would be even fancier than before.

“Woo, look at you!”

For a moment it seemed his cheeks were turning color but he was doing a spin before you could fully tell. “Like it?”

“You look... great!” Truly he did, like a model plucked straight from a catalog. You were lost for the appropriate word. “Where are you coming from dressed like this?”

“A date.” He smirks.

“Ahh… a date…” You ponder the word, wondering what kind of date it must’ve been if he had to dress up like this. Could it have been at one of those upscale restaurants that make you pay just to reserve a table.. Where would he have got the money for that anyway... and, I wonder what kind of girls he’s into?

“Jealous?”

You shoot your eyes at him, seeing he still has a smirk on his lips. His eyes are teasing but the word still annoys you, or you’re just flustered with yourself for letting your mind wander. “I-Taehyung, I have a boyfriend.”

“I know... I’ve seen him. “

“You met?”

“Not formally. One night I just saw some guy trying to get into your apartment and I was staring at him and finally he looked back at me like why is this guy glaring at me go into my apartment. I guess I put two and two together.”

You nod but don’t say anything, still the slightest bit annoyed but you couldn’t say why.

“I was joking, I’m sorry. Uh, I had dinner with my parents. My dad’s a super important business guy so if I’m not dressed to a T my mom will scold me for days about it.” He laughs but it feels forced and the smile from it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Anyway, where are you off to?”

“Uh, I’m hungry and I don’t feel like cooking so-”

“Boyfriend making you walk by yourself this late?”

For some reason his question makes you tense, “He’s working.” You feel a strong urge to defend him, to tell Taehyung Jungkook’s a really nice guy and he cares about me and if he was home I wouldn’t even be out here right now. But that would just be you emotionally rambling. You knew deep down even if he was home he probably wouldn’t have noticed you walk out anyway.

“Well there’s this taco truck on the other side of the block I know of…If you don’t mind me showing you.”

“Didn’t you just have dinner?”

“Sitting with my dad for more than ten minutes kills my appetite. I could use some food.” He chuckles, a bit more naturally this time, and the depth of his tone eases the anxiety that was starting to build in you.

“Sure.” You smile. “Let’s go.”

-----

It was the beginning of fall then but traces of summer kept you warm around him, or could it have been his energy?

You got to learn more about Taehyung that night. You learn that his true passion lies within photography, and it’s what he does for extra money, but his dad doesn’t support it and has been nagging him for the longest to get a “real” job. He lived with his parents up until March of this year when they  got fed up and kicked him out. By some type of strange luck, his dad happened to be good friends with Mr.Lee and helped him get this job.

At the beginning of the year his resolution was to save up the money he was making from different gigs until the summer, that's when he would kickstart his dream of becoming a travel blogger. That all changed when his dad threw a wrench in his plan.

“I like helping out at the apartment, I feel important there.” He tells you. “But now I’m worried I’m gonna get trapped here and never be able to explore my dreams.”

It’s interesting to hear life problems and fears from someone who comes across calm, cool, and collected all the time. It makes you feel less insecure about the fact your own life isn’t what it appears to be behind closed doors.

Maybe everybody’s world was like this, collectively walking on rocky ground while trying to stay optimistic even though you’re scared. By letting down his walls it naturally allowed the two of you to become close and from then on he becomes one of your closest friends.

It wasn’t all bad all the time, you had Taehyung.

You ended up spending a lot of your free time with him. When places came up that you wanted to visit he’d be the one you were dragging along because of course Jungkook would be too busy. Somewhere along the line you two started having dinner together nearly every night whether it was his place, your place, or somewhere out in the city. Although, eating at Taehyung’s place might as well have been the same as eating out because the boy couldn’t even cook anything decent which meant he always ordered delivery. That was alright, it never really mattered what you two did together because being in his presence on its own was enjoyable. He kept you comfortable and kept your spirits up, always forgetting that one thing that otherwise kept you sad.

-----

For Halloween you and Jungkook make plans to see a new horror movie that drops that night. It’s your first date in who knows how long, but without fail he texts you an hour before he’s supposed to get off.

From: jungkook♥ [4:57 PM]

Hey babe, I’m really sorry… Namjoon invited me to this bar. It’s supposed to be really fun on Halloween. You know I haven’t been able to hang out with the other guys in a while so I’m gonna go, ok? We can still see the movie on Saturday. Promise

It’s not shocking but still really disappointing. You two hadn’t spent any quality time together in ages so to be blown off for his coworkers of all things admittedly hurt a lot. You found yourself in the same old situation, treading your way to Taehyung’s door to invite him instead.

“Trick or treat!” You beam when he opens the door, already masking your emotions so he wouldn’t worry or ask questions.

“Oh- I- I didn’t buy any candy.” He looks back into his apartment worriedly, and you can read in his eyes that he’s trying to figure out where he may have some tucked away.

“Hey, it’s fine.” You laugh, tugging on his arm to make him face you again. “That’s not why I’m here. Got any plans?”

“Uh, nothing in particular. Mr. Lee told me to stay home to make sure the building doesn’t get egged though.”

“Okay that’s literally never happened and not going to, sooo... I was supposed to go to the movies tonight b-”

“Ahh,” Taehyung hums, his expression flattening. “Let me guess... your boyfriend flaked and you’re here to try out option number two.”

“Don’t be like that,” You pout. “I always wanna go to these places with you just as much as I want to go with him.”

“That’s supposed to make me feel better?”

“You know what I mean! Why are you being like this?”

He ignores the question and turns back into his apartment, “What time is the movie?”

You follow his lead and shut the door behind you, watching him head down the hall to likely go get ready.  “If you don’t take a year to do your hair we can go to the show that starts in two hours.”

-----

You’re able to make it there an hour before the movie starts, the theater unsurprisingly having two equally long lines already. There's an array of people waiting to buy tickets, between horror movie fans there for the same reason as you, mom-friends with their children dressed in animal and princess costumes, and then the handful of couples with the shared unoriginal idea for a Halloween movie date. You can’t blame them, you would’ve been one of them.

Taehyung speaks up just as you notice more people trailing in behind you, “Don’t think I missed what you said earlier. I don’t think I take that long to do my hair. You make me sound vain.”

You smile up at him, knowing he knows it too since he settled for wearing a beanie tonight. “You do take a while but I don’t think it’s that. I just think you care a lot about how you’re perceived.”

“That’s not a bad thing.” He counters.

“Mm, no. But does it really matter, what others think?”

He tilts his head, thinking before deciding, but before he gets a chance to answer one of the employees steps out of the ticket booth holding a sign and instructs everyone to form a new line if they are here specifically for the new movie premiere. He unfolds the stand that has the movie’s poster on it and a big black arrow to guide people to a designated window.

Taehyung links his arm with yours and pulls you along with the crowd as nearly half the people there rush to get toward the front of the new line. You’re able to mostly avoid the pushing and shoving as you settle behind a couple in front of you.

The girl happens to glance back at you and smile, her curly hair bouncing when she turns back and lays her head on the guy’s shoulder. His arm automatically wraps around her waist and the action has you pulling your own away from Taehyung quickly. It makes you self conscious that you’re here with him and not your own boyfriend, despite no one knowing the difference. Someone could look at you two and assume you’re no different than the pair in front of you.

Something seems oddly familiar, you realize after staring at the back of him, something about him and his dark hair feels like you’ve seen him before. Taehyung starts speaking again but you’re zoned out studying the nape of his neck, waiting for something to click in your mind or hoping he’ll just happen to turn around.

Could it be an old friend from school? Maybe someone who also lives at the apartments…?

“Y/N?”

The sound of your name pulls you out of your thoughts and you see the line has moved and Taehyung is waiting a few feet in front of you.

“Sorry!” You blurt, darting forward. “I- I was-”

“You okay?” His eyes flicker back and forth, he notices somethings on your mind.

“Yeah! This guy just seems like someone I know.” You keep your voice low as you point to him.

“Really?” He leans forward, attempting to be casual as he tries to get a better look of his face, but the guy notices and turns his head to frown at Taehyung.

“Can I help you?”

“Namjoon!?”

He whips around fully, releasing his hold on the other woman. “Heyyy…” He smiles slightly and it’s clear from his furrowed brow he doesn’t actually recognize you.

“Its Y/N! Jungkook’s girlfriend?”

“Right, Y/N!” His dimples bloom once you say that and he remembers. He steps forward to hug you and it catches you off guard but you return it nonetheless. The two of you met months and months ago when Jungkook was still an intern. You randomly brought him lunch on a day they happened to be working together and Namjoon ended up inviting you inside and let you stay a while. He was very welcoming. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, what are you doing here?”

“Um, here to see a movie.” He says obviously through a quiet laugh.

“Right, I just thought-”

“NEXT!” The employee’s voice breaks through a tiny speaker, interrupting you from revealing something you shouldn’t say- thankfully.

The girl he’s with breaks away to go to the window.

He’s already pulling his wallet from a back pocket, “Welp that’s us.”

“Hey-” You call, before he’s out of reach. “Did you come with anybody else?”

He shakes his head a negative. “Just my date.” He smiles once more before going to pay for his tickets where they were both waiting.

Anger bubbles, it comes in and rushes to a clenched fist. And beside that, laying in the pit of your stomach, is pain. You’re not sure what to say or how you should react. It’s a messy combination which makes you want to lash out and break down all at once. What does this even mean? All you know is that you’ve been lied to and it’s maddening. Where do you go from there?

“Tae-” Your eyes are glassy, not necessarily from tears of sadness, just overwhelmed by emotion. “I wanna go home.”

-----

Quiet.

That’s all you are for the time being. You’re quiet the whole twenty minute train ride home, quiet while you walk side by side down the street, you’re quiet upon entering the complex, quiet up the elevator, and quiet following Taehyung down the hall.

It’s not until you’re in the safety of his apartment that Taehyung cuts the silence.

“You don’t have to pretend in front of me.”

You’re already curled up on his couch, he comes from around the corner with a tissue box in hand. He doesn’t say anything about it, just places it gently on the coffee table and sits at the opposite end of the couch from you.

“I don’t know what you mean.” You turn your head away from him, pretending you don’t notice the gesture.

“Come on, what happened back there? Tell me who that guy was.”

“No one to me. He works with Jungkook.”

“Okay…” His voice trails, waiting for you to answer the other half of his question but you won’t. Even if it means you have to sit here in more silence. He’ll let it go eventually, like he always does whenever you get a bit moody. He’ll ask what’s wrong and you’ll say nothing, he’ll press it once or twice and when he’s unable to get through he’ll find something else to talk about. He’ll usually say something funny and you end up forgetting whatever it was that made you upset in the first place.

Not this time.

“Does that have something to do with why you’re upset right now?”

“No. I’m fine. I’m just-”

“Just what, huh? Tired? Is that what you’re gonna say?”

The harshness of his tone surprises you, but when you finally look at him you can tell he doesn’t mean to be rude. He’s frustrated, annoyed, probably with you. It would be fair, you think, since this happens more than it should. You end up bothered over something to do with Jungkook and as much as you try to suppress or hide it Taehyung always senses the change.

He drawls out your name, voice softening as he scoots closer. “Look, I know something is going on between you and Jungkook. You never wanna tell me what it is but I see through these things, I know it’s about him. You can talk to me about it, it’s okay.”

He rests his hand over your thigh and his touch feels too warm. Like all the heat from his palm is trying to melt away your facade. It works, annoyingly it does. Because in seconds you feel your wall deteriorating. Your heart aches unpleasantly, you want to let this feeling out. If anyone was going to support you right now it was him after all.

“He lied to me.” Your lip quivers and you pause to take a deep breath in. Regardless, you still couldn’t cry in front of him. You won’t allow him to see you like that. “He lied, he flaked on me because he said he wanted to hang out with Namjoon but he lied.” Your tears have a mind of their own, despite your resistance they manage to fall on their own accord. It’s frustrating and you try to look to the ceiling and blink them away but Taehyung grabs onto you and presses your head against his shoulder. You’re weak under his hold, it only makes you break more.

“It’s okay.” He repeats, silently letting you know it is completely fine to cry.

“It hurt that he’d rather hang out with his coworker than me but it wasn’t even that! Like, what is then? Maybe it wouldn’t be a big deal if it weren’t for the fact we’re already not in a good space. It’s just not the same, you know… He’s not the same, he doesn’t treat me the same. It feels like he doesn’t love me anymore.”

Your voice wavers through the sentence, saying it out loud hurts even more than thinking it. Saying it makes it feel more real, like it’s not just a paranoia but a fact. Maybe that’s why you hid everything from Taehyung for so long. It wasn’t because you didn’t trust him, you told him everything else. It makes sense to you now that it’s because you haven’t wanted to face it, facing it meant dealing with it. It’s like finding a bug in your home, who knows how long it’s been around or where it’s crawled out from, but once you find it you have to get rid of it somehow.

You break away from him to reach for a few tissues, when you sit back you notice a small wet spot soaked through the red cotton of his sweatshirt. You feel apologetic but it makes you chuckle a bit too.

“How’d you know?” You decide to ask. “That we had problems.”

“Well…” He releases a shaky breath, eyes roaming through his living room while he tries to find his words. “You spend too much time with me, for starters. Which is okay, I know you said he works late but then you were always asking me to go somewhere with you because he bailed. I mean every single time Y/N, how busy can someone be? It seemed weird. And one day we were out and it just kinda dawned on me… you don’t talk about him anymore. You used to bring him up a lot, compare him to what somebody else had done, tell me about things he was doing at work, little things like that they just stopped.”

“Ugh, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, I get it. It’s love. I remember the first time you told me about him, your eyes were sparkling like they do to those little Barbie dolls.”

Laughter breaks out of you at the comparison, “A Barbie doll? Nice...”

“That’s what it reminded me of! All wide eyed, bright, and happy. Jungkook’s an asshole.”

“Taehyung.”

The moment turns serious again. Sure you were mad at him right now and as he should be Taehyung was too. Still, that didn’t open a door for him to talk badly about Jungkook.

“No, I’m gonna say it. He’s an asshole and he’s a dumbass. Jungkook’s got the second greatest woman in the world and he just… he just leaves you like this.”

“Second?”

“Mom comes first.” He chuckles, boxy grin making an appearance.

“You’re sweet…” Your voice remains calm and seemingly unbothered but internally you’re melting at the fact that this pure and thoughtful gentlemen puts you at such a high ranking. He’s literally perfect.

“I’m serious, Y/N. You’re amazing. You’re smart, you always seem to know the right thing to say. You’re loving, you’re sincere… You’re passionate. I love how you don’t half ass anything, you put effort and thought into whatever you do. I mean everything you do. You’re… everything, and… you’re so, so beautiful.”

“Alright.” You sigh, playfully rolling your eyes but really trying to hide the fact you were blushing hard.

“If Jungkook isn’t balls deep in love with you then-”

“Tae!” You laugh, shoving his chest, but his hands just find your hips and tug you closer. Too close you realize when his breath fans across your face.

“I’m being serious.”

Your eyes lock with his, “What are you saying?”

If that wasn’t some type of full blown confession, you aren’t sure what is. But that’s not what you want from him. You don’t want him to confirm it. You want him to say ‘You know it’s not like that…’ Even though it blatantly is. You’ve always known, the desire in his eyes boring into your own right now has always been there. The difference now is he’s only inches away, which makes his feelings that much harder to ignore. You need him to say otherwise because you can feel yourself cracking under his guise. He makes it hard to breathe, the proximity of his body to yours is making you too hot and it’s too much and you don’t know why.

“I think you know.”

His gaze lowers to your lips, the temptation stronger than it’s been before.

Time seems to stop then.

There’s a magnetizing pressure surrounding your bodies that awakens something inside of you. Something that sparks to life and swirls around in your chest. Maybe Taehyung has always made you feel this way. The way the first touch of the sun wraps you in it’s warmth, but sitting under it too long burns. Maybe you’ve always felt the same- a little bit... but never fully been able to reciprocate.

His eyes flutter shut, it seems like so slowly, and you’re caving under the pressure.

I could throw in the towel, you think, letting your lashes fall too. Your relationship has already run its course, hasn’t it? Already hit its peak and crashed. It’s unsalvageable anyway, right?

Delicately, you let your hand cup the side of his face, urging him to come closer. You can give in like this and give this part of you to Taehyung, who’s here and present with his undivided attention.

He’s leaning in and so are you. Your minds made up, you shouldn’t, but you’ve already cracked. It’s too late, you figure when your nose brushes his. You’re so close you can already imagine the taste of him but he’s hesitant, he’s careful, waiting on you to close the gap. It’s up to you after all.

But you don’t.

I shouldn’t.

“I can’t.”

You push his hands off of you, opening your eyes to reality as time snaps back into place.

Jungkook is still your boyfriend. It wouldn’t be right to cheat on him like this. No matter the circumstances. You didn’t have all the answers yet.

You push yourself back into the arm of the couch, you’re trying to break away from him but there’s no room left to go. You mold your hand over his knee, nudging him the slightest bit. You need room to breathe, you need the room to get your head back on straight, but a part of you didn’t want to push him where he might become unreachable.

He moves back, guiding himself all the way to the other end of the couch. The sudden space has your heart squeezing unpleasantly. He doesn’t look at you so you can’t quite read his expression with his head hung low, he could be sad or he could be angry. The guilt you feel is overwhelming either way. You know he’s not an egotistical person, but you can’t help but feel you just broke some part of him. On top of that, you almost just threw away a three year relationship in the heat of a moment.

“I’m gonna go.” Standing from the couch your legs feel like jelly, but you do your best to make your way to the door.

“Hey,” He’s quick to come after you, holding your arms in place. “You don’t have to. You can stay.”

“I can’t stay.”

“You can stay. If you don’t want to deal with him tonight you’re welcome here.”

You don’t miss the way he avoids saying Jungkook’s name. You shake your head. “I can’t stay here, not like this.” You don’t have to elaborate. The last ten minutes should say enough. You pull out of his grasp and hastily shove on your shoes .

“Y/N, stay.” He pleads. “I’ll even let you take my bed, I can sleep on the couch.”

“No! I wanna see Jungkook...”

He does a good job of keeping a straight face when you say that, no type of reaction flickers in his eyes. But when he says “Alright.” The bitterness spits itself in the air.

“Tae, it’s not meant to be this way. I shouldn’t be here right now. I’m supposed to be at home.”

“What if you belong here?”

Belong?

You think about the word for a moment and what exactly he means by that. He didn’t actually believe that, that you were meant to be here with him right now, did he? His voice seems sincere, like he’s asking you to think about it. But how could you even consider that a possibility when there was another human being out there who you’d given your heart to long ago, and whom- despite the rough patch you were currently in- you love very, very much.

“I don’t.”

TBC  Part 2

#taehyung scenarios #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts imagines #idk what else to tag but if u see this thanks for reading ily

[startenthousand]

I don’t think I’ve talked much about what bullshit work has been this (academic) year on here so here are some cliffs notes. The very, very short version: I am trying to teach a DIFFICULT and COMPLEX subject to students who are, for numerous reasons mostly related to societal and institutional failures, not yet prepared to be successful in that subject. I am scolded by literally everyone (admins, other staff, students) for not magically making all students successful in this subject, and in the cases of a few individuals, actively undermined in my attempts to do so.

Context: 

8th year in education, 5th year teaching, 3rd year at this school. 

School population is highly heterogeneous, has much higher than average ELL & SPED populations, and is also in the district with the worst achievement gap in the nation. 

I teach physics. We have two classes - ostensibly regular and honors, but really watered-down-to-the-point-of-causing-me-pain regular and just-above regular. They have not been aligned at the district level & we have zero guidance as to what standards/learning targets to set, so we’ve been setting them on our own using our best judgement. 

We have been doing an extensive amount of curving grades/extending the grading scale/etc to the point where I honestly don’t want my name connected with some of the grades we’ve given over the past few years, because students were earning Cs in physics when they really didn’t understand or even DO anything. But there’s a lot of pressure to reduce the number of Fs - which has historically been around 25% for first semester in the “regular” class, in part because:

We are not allowed to have prereqs for courses. Students in the “regular” class range from “has not passed a single math or science class in their high school career” to “could be taking the honors class but didn’t want to do the work.” 

Students routinely move between classes as late as the 10th week of the semester. Building classroom culture is nigh-on impossible. Students are moved between courses, sections, and teachers with zero consultation of the teachers.

Discipline is all but non-existent. The district has theoretically been moving to restorative practices, which I’m all for, but in reality they’ve done away with all punitive measures and replaced them with...nothing. It is impossible to enforce any kind of boundaries because there are no consequences for misbehavior until it reaches the level of a physical altercation.

My supervising AP is incompetent (literally no one in the building respects them) and tried to fire me/bully me into quitting my first year.

Also, my mother died less than a year ago. 

A brief summary of relevant events:

Other physics teacher (OPT) wants to try a self-paced, mastery-based learning approach for the regular class for a variety of reasons. I have some reservations but also see the merits so I say sure - we’ve been struggling to adapt more traditional teaching styles to meet the needs of all of our kids.

We revert to a standard (90+ = A, 80+ = B, etc) grading scale for the honors class

The school is looking more closely at supporting our ELLs this year, and notice that many are struggling in physics. OPT and I were aware of this and had been trying to adapt on our own, but gladly start working with a coach to build in more support for those & all students.  

Rather disastrous meeting with head principle & AP wherein OPT & I try to explain our frustrations (students who are NOT READY to learn physics yet) and they somehow think we’re calling them stupid?

Students in the honors class act incredibly rude & entitled, to the point where OPT walks out of class one day, and I can’t even deliver a 5-minute lecture because they’re all talking to each other about what’s on their phones (see above re: behavior/discipline)

Students are caught cheating, sent down to the office because OPT is stressed and can’t handle the situation in a professional manner in the moment (so took the responsible course of “let’s table this conversation until I *can* deal with this). OPT is yelled at and told kids should never be sent out of the classroom.

OPT finds a new job, leaving the field of teaching entirely. Their last day is our first day back after winter break.

I inform my head of department that unless there are some significant changes to the situation, I will be leaving at the end of the year.

I am now left solely responsible for making & justifying grading decisions, etc. based on a pedagogical experiment that was OPT’s idea.

A long-term sub (LST) is hired and starts the second day back after winter break. I do not even learn LST’s name until the evening before. LST has taught physics in private schools in a different state.

Useless AP does NOTHING to facilitate transition - tells LST that OPT will have sub plans for them, but does not ask OPT to make sub plans, etc. I throw some materials at LST and scramble to keep things from being a total disaster.

Coach & I have some meetings with LST to try to figure out what changes to make for second semester. LST does not want to collaborate on anything, in spite of district requirements that we do so for shared courses. LST does not want to make any adjustments to their teaching style to better meet the needs of our kids or at least ease the transition. Kids from LST’s sections are coming to me and complaining about their teaching.

Students BLOW UP AT ME about course policies that have been in the syllabus from day one and have been discussed multiple times throughout the semester. Failure to plan on your part does not constitute and emergency on my part.

Useless AP doesn’t make decisions about schedule changes to the point where I’m still not 100% which/how many sections of which courses I’m teaching and the semester starts in two days.

[TW: mental health, suicide, etc]

I’m a mess. I am overwhelmed and under-supported and I don’t know what to do. Dragging myself into the building is a victory most days. I’m not eating well and sleeping too much. I’m having suicide ideation, which I’ve NEVER had before in my life. I always thought it would be more...depressed, but it’s much more frantic than that - everything is a constant onslaught and it’s unending and I want to violently destroy SOMETHING but I’d feel guilty if I destroyed something external and at least if I destroyed myself I wouldn’t be around to feel the guilt later.

I love my kids and I believe so strongly in what I’m trying to do but I can’t do it under these conditions because NOBODY could do it under these conditions and it’s poisoning everything and I don’t know if I need to leave the district or leave teaching altogether but I don’t want to do either of those things because being a teacher is My Identity and I don’t know who I am if I’m not doing this? I want to keep doing this but like...actually be able to do it. I’m at the point where I feel like I don’t even know what “good teaching” is or looks like because apparently everything I do is insufficient. I honestly just want to hand in a note tomorrow that says “everybody gets a C, I’m out” screw two week’s notice because I can’t handle this.

Meanwhile my therapist’s hours have changed so I’m not going to be able to see her as much and so generally things are just swell. 

#I don't even know how to tag this #life is impossible and i'm just going to hibernate for the next three years ok

[xz017]

.

oof. okay so imma do the latest tea???

got out of shower to hear my mum talkin to Agnes spillin the tea abt their friend/coworker

the one with that Kid my mum wanted to have a playdate with or whatever the annoyingly studious and clearskinned halfasian lookin girl i really envied.

her mum has a live in boyfriend who is basically like...an alcoholic mental case rip god i hate alcohol and i hate people who drink it like i only do it so i hate myself more and die but like this guy basically playin with knives n guns in the house and the kid who is like 19 idk why im callin her kid is so Over it like apparently she hasn’t been coming home and like

basically me in 2016 era when my mum was too generous n Helpful lettin ppl back into our lives and our House so i spent christmas morning 5am walkin in the cold n watchin 3 films until it got dark and stuff like that

girl be actin homeless---mood

so it came to a head today so Agnes is spillin the tea n her husband in the bg(omg it weird hearin him rip he was my military hs instructor wild) n my mUM is so selfrighteous n mad like

‘blablahblah well rosalie is being dumb she should put her daughter first she being sick in the head it her Choice’

n im like eavesdroppin havin warflashbacks of the dumb hypocrisy she has DOne lmao

‘has she no thought like what if Tyler gets raped/sexually abused by that man she’d let her daughter be in that environment???’

i mean it wouldnt be fair of me to be like...eyemoji on this cos she technically doesn’t know? but 19 may 2018 never4get lmao

anyway so my mum’s like our room is for rent and it’ll be far cheaper they dont even have to pay rn!!!

cue me being like...um...Money...generosity...i dont...LIke

i was conflicted here like idk i met the girl like 3-5 times im envious of her work ethic n her better asian disposition than mine cos she obviously prettier but she has better prospects and that’d suck if her life be like that

but also??? like...life be like that it was like that to me like who saved me????????????????????? 

um...no one

like why is that on me or US TO BE NICE n helpful im so tired like damn which is relevant to the next point anyway

cos earlier had a convo with my mum i was eyemojing healthcare profs i was like ‘pls stop bein on ye phone pls tell me info on ye opinion on respiratory therapists...what abt PA’

n deadass she be eyemojing me like STICK TO YOUR COURSE

n i was like...-ugly pleadin emoji eyes- n i was tryin to explain that i didn’t want to be so focused on one thing that if i decide this medical thing is what i want to pursue i’d need 1-2 years just for the PREREQS which is like 5 classes and 1000 clinical hours or minimum 6 month healthcare paid job. like if i decide i want to go to school for that i already have the Stuff and just Apply.

n she was like...you had your chance i bothered you to be a nurse a few years ago you were stubborn if you did as i said you’d be earning good money now but you wasted time

n i was like...oof i can’t say anything to that it’s tru. it real life tea it fax i wasted time n im old n im ruunnin out of time i hate myself alot i hate hate hate

and idk we got to talkin abt money n life cos she was like you have to find something you can learn to LOve

n i was like??? WHY I GOTTA SETTLE N FOOL MYSELF TO DO SO im super annoyed abt that mindset

cos the thing about a bloody Arts degree is there’s too fuckin many broad possibilities n they all aint even that good. like deadass if i was a STEM major ugh like if i was a Bio major prospects are so clear: forensics, research, premed,labtech. Meanwhile polsci for example: uhhh teacher? prelaw? politician? uhhh government work? n there’s like 111 different subdivisions of that n it’s like??? wat the fuck

deadass what am i gonna do with international security is that even gonna pay well like...the fuck do i know is it relevant ??? Doubts

n she was all like...PEOPLE JUST GOTTA DO WHAT THEY HAVE TO TO SURVIVE YOU GOTTA FIND YOURS N STICK WITH IT

n i was lowkey panique n frustrated cos i really REALLY hate being stuck in 1 ting n im like i HAD ACTING YOU SAID NO

n she was like pFF i wanted you to have something REAL cos if you dont make it in acting you’d be on the STREETS

n i was like...lmao lil did she know imma be on the streets next year smh this year actually

n she was like talkin abt the harsh reality of the workforce and how you gotta make do at how ppl treat you (patients) n how you might not even like your coworkers but you gotta deal with it because that’s what ppl do to survive

n she was talkin abt undeserving patients with no healthcare n i was like did you just hear yourself so you want them to die cos they dont got money and she was like 

no??? why get hooked up in the ICU when you’re braindead wasting government money taxes we payed for you don’t understand cos you dont have a job and dont get your salary cut cos of taxes and these people come in acting like they got something to give when they yell at your face acting like they know what they’re talking about they act entitled when they have nothing homeless ppl getting money and illegal immigrants are selfish bringing their kids to be hurt here

n im like...theyre life is ...shitty what are you talkin about n she was like so? why dont they stay and make it better??? one of my very first patients asked me why i was in america and i said i come from a poor country and they said why didn’t you stay and try to make it better? and i couldn’t say anything cos u know what they were right why dont illegal immigrants do that??? n im like...

cos theyre literally...RUNNIN and they want ppl they care abt i.e. children to be far away from that as soon as possible bruh ye think imma wait for change deadass there a reason why we suffer duterte he actually get shit done??? we dont have to wait for change the same way ppl who speak nice n are polite do but is stuck with bureaucracy and lowkey bein corrupt deadass stay in ye lane

n she’s like well i hope you’re right im done bein an idealist im a realist now i believed in good i wanted to help the world now no more

n im like...no you’re not a realist, you’ve just been hangin out with a republican

and she gave me a sideeye 

but deadass im ...scared like i really hate the empathy because when she was being serious n talkin n being honest abt things for once i started to unwillingly see things from her point of view i really felt it n i was scared i’ll be like that im scared she’s right

im scared i’ll end up Real n selfish like...i already am ? n bitter? like i care about so very few Personally and am willin to let others suffer to keep it safe n prioritised?

im scared.

like especially with racism all these years my mum’s been telling me it’s not that im racist just wait til you work with them they act so entitles and loud and make everything about race

n i almost told Her abt it earlier i skyped w her earlier we had a tea spillin moment about our ethnic relations bein racist but then idk we talked alot i guess the text got buried or unseen

like i said i was scared n didn’t get to unpack it like im scared because ive been livin with my roomate and like...ive been excusing it as a personality thing and that if it were anyone else different skin colour id still hate them just the same which i still maintain is true but like?

my RM is loud n she makes everything abt race like deadass me n my FM be just eating dinner and she passes by us and goes on a rant about harvard asians being a Blok to black ppl from getting There n im like...im tryna have dinner so i can get energy to deal with this stressful ass school

n she always talks like she knows what she’s talking about like ‘jewish ppl control the federal bank’ n im like...it 1am in the dark quiet of our shared room deadass i dont wanna tell the binch thats antisemitism cos she gonna be like im black how can i be racist smh

im!!! scared alright like i hate my roomate for proving my mum right when i try so hard to set things right like maybe that’s why i dont tell anyone about my situation other than Her. i never told my parents about the berkeley livin situation they already warn me enough to be careful n i just keep tellin them thats racist

i have so much........THOUGHTS n........DILEMMAS...n FEARS but like i just have this blog i cant trust anyone else to talk abt it n the only person i am willing to talk to abt it will be busy and im so ashamed abt these things but she was so sweet about givin me the heads up about her schedule 

like i hated that i had to get an ugly ass haircut today cos she came back to me n we couldve talked so i guess rip she was complacent n did stuff cos she replied late from then on like that dumbass haircut was 15 minutes ugh. our talkin pattern today was like...dashed lines timereply wise? i asked her if she packed earlier (pre haircut)n she said yes but rip a few hours later she was like...I need to pack 

wat is the truth rip

the tablet bein emo like...mood but my child rip.

my love be packin n spendin time with fam before leavin for london tomorrow

n even after that she doin...Stuff. rip.

which is ye know good for her rip.

i just hope she dont go iceskatin deadass one slip n she can crack her head open or break her neck or paralyse her spine like...??? why do humans wanna do dumb activities

like omg she admitted to me today she a serial jaywalker and WORSE with music n headphones like

binch thats why i didnt wanna enable you further by gettin ye airpods deadass bye

n she was like??? tryna equate it with my risky risk like ummm

mine is for science n validity

hers is just carelessness n chosin lazy convenience over idk...the responsibility of self vigilance like...

bruh ppl shouldnt promise someone 91 years if they be continuin to do dumb stuff consciously oof rip

but other than that like...im...really proud of this resolution she be undertakin officially on the 14th?

im nervous abt it cos i really want it for her too. i want her to get the proper sleep n i always hated her givin excuses like ‘IM FINE ON 4 HOURS OF SLEEP’ ‘I NAPPED 3 HOURS 38293820 HOURS AGO IM FINE I MADE UP FOR IT’ um...blokt. get proper sleep binch i love you tf???

prioritise work cos ye gonna regret not givin it yer all??? n ye payin for this???

what fun??? we capitalists now we want that money rip.

i see that shift you know rip i saw it comin a year ago.

that dont mean we republicans rip we still care about others n the inequality? but like i foresaw us getting acquainted with the harsh reality of the world n how difficult it is to get a job--which she experienced along the way.

n rip she wants many things bookmarkin them n honestly same rip

i want a stable warm home for this family n a shiny diamond to get disassociated by extra im a simple man

meanin im selfish n im ready to prioritise meanin im ready to make the choice for others to fall apart/behind if it means puttin This first rip

god pls dont make me a republican this so ugly

# 1 she’d hate me #2 i’d hate me

now im sad

im dead.

omg rip earlier too as she said goodbye i told her i loved her and she was like ‘i love you more’

DEADASS I WAS LIKE LMAO!!! girL i dont think you understand im literally Ready to put you and our possible future First like...im not messin around what skitrips with rich ppl what friends my love is potent n extreme n COncentrated like im sorry ik you feel love for me but you cant top This rip she not ready 

like the um ‘partially wanna make my life’s work abt knowin what might hurt n kill ye so i can kill it first or blok it well’ kinda love

the ‘im already savin for at least HALF a first month deposit in an overpriced london in case you wanna settle down wit me Mayhaps n im not touching it for ANYTHING’ kinda love

the ‘im thinking of a winter home in the tropics so you suffer less n im plannin the floorplans already rip just in case’ kinda extraness

but anyways the gall of this cute lovely human rip ‘i love you more’ ummm try Again smh

bruh i love her too much i bet that’s scary for her rip it might be a Burden tbh she so young rip 

meanwhile im old n ready to rot but like...

i wanna be mortal wit ye before i do

but ye know wat lads i saw myself in the mirror today like 5 times OOF. this meatform...keepin me...Humble. 

bitter but like...humble

‘like of course sHe not ready not only is my personality like dis but also...my outward form how could she introduce me as a Spouse’

‘wow i look like that oof it good i remembered i am undeservin of full intense love like in the films n fanfiction they always between attractive ppl after all it only 1/2 it not Equal’

‘wow bruh ye really upset she spendin time n resources elsewhere when you be lookin like That? ye dont have much to offer bro take the L’

oof so that’s the personal tea i can think of?

had a meghan marke talk rip i can’t believe i was right??? i had twin vibes!!! but i was hoping for like a variety situation rip im worried a lil abt the whole birthin Late ting but she can afford the highest care rip it fine she rich.

my love was talkin abt how pretty MM was n i was like rip is she triggerin Her a lil rip worrirooni

rip speakin of babies like she was showin me this smol gummybear n im like same das me heart n she was like :( n i was like it only fits you

n she was like so no children then:(

n i was like!!! rip if it Ours of course that Counts n i was a lil shook like rip she said she didn’t want them Really so i always get guilty when i talk abt the future or realise i mentioned kids or carelessly name drop Hyaline n Benzion like...im dead rn just typin that like what if she read this big shame bro

but ye know what this is already long n she gonna be busy maybe that’s the key. TOo Much puts ppl OFF so ye mayhaps we sneaky ! ?

anyway i was tryin to get her thoughts on it rip but like she was all iDK ASK ME IN 13 Yrs n i was like...

sighemoji + sandemoji + resignedemoji

rip we talked FAaC a lil. cos she Dared!!! to liken me to her brother just cos i showed her my cheap youth boy shoes smh

At first i was super offended n disgusted but then i was like rip eyemoji if ye into that

then she was like ew nO

then i was like um ye already play the ‘daddy u like me young huh’ card

which is like idk is like technically? joking but it’s like that post ye know abt ppl bein ‘whether or not im actually jokin or flirtin depends if you into it’ but also like schrodingers racism like ‘it was a joke bro!!!’ but they actually bigots.

so it DIFFICULT for my brain to Confirm rip like...eyemoji what is the truth

but like??? im rip. willin. rip. to. rip. Try. rip.?

really i am rip. it Her. bruh. im only hopin she dont have a golden shower kink but. trust i...Will follow thru.

nO IM REMEMBERIN THE DOO DOO POST DESPAIR

rip anyway that whole thing reminded me of FAaC origins which was porn n then somehow sHe was like imagine if egggsy was a singer he’d sing like ‘age is just a number’ shit n i SPILLED THE TEA ABOUT A TING IN PT 3 im so weak sand

i miss the gays

i wanna give them justice n happiness but the 2027 excuse is rl nice for my ugly procrastination issues oof but i wish them well

add: rip had another talk with my mum i really wanted her to understand my thought process about wanting to get the prereqs for medtraining done beforehand

n she was like...I UNderstand but Normal people--

n i was like ‘IM NOT NORMAL I DONT KNOW HOW TO CHOOSE I HAVE NO IDENTITY’

n she’s just like SHOOKE n mad n clearly dont understand that im fukt up in the head ‘...IC AN’T BELIEVE YOU!!! iF YOU’RE ABNORMAL YOU WONT GET HIRED N YOU WONT HAVE A NICE JOB’

n im like...well i mean what can i say to that it’s not like it’s not tru rip

Big sand honestly.

it gonna be a long few days imma do my best to leave her alone she needs her time rip i love her so much rip sand

i feel like a dumb ugly dog god fljækadfkøad h8

#personal tea #read more only #entry

[onemaebee]

i sure do wish i had more people around who were in healthy, loving relationships.

best friends are newlyweds who have been literally screaming at each other for years

their brother+SIL have the same relationship only add in a daughter

friend b moved in with her long-term bf and they’re straight-up violent with each other

all of the girls genuinely hate on the guys when they’re with me (the wife)-- legit insults, heated in-depth rants of why they hate being with them and how awful they are and how much easier it would be if they’d never met, and debate LITERALLY DAILY about how long they should leave the guy for “this time”

i just

why

i’m with my first boyfriend. we shouldn’t have even met-- i’d originally signed up for a different college english class, and he hadn’t passed the prereq but the system glitched and the prof let him stay. the other class was taught by a nutcase so i switched to this one. i asked him out, a few months later asked him to marry me, and a few months after that got pregnant. he assured me from the start that he loved me and stepped right up to the plate. asked for a huge promotion at work and worked with me to make it work. we were young and stupid but as long as we had each other it would be okay. every obstacle would fall in the face of our united front.

and you know what? just shy of a decade later, and a total of three kids later, we were right.

i love my husband. i can never shit-talk him. he’s the light of my life and such a sweet person and i would be honored to even get to interact with him, much less be his friend, much less be in a romantic relationship with him. yet here i am, the luckiest girl in the world. i love him so much. every day he tells me how beautiful i am and how much he loves me. he’s a flawless father to our trio of boys and i literally couldn’t ask for a better man. not a day goes by where i don’t think “how is he even real??? this is the prince charming Little Mae dreamed of unrealistically???”

he’ll be wearing his comfiest pajama pants and refer to me as his wife on discord and i’ll blush like a middle schooler.

i wish i knew more people who treasured being married to their best friend and were loud and proud of it. it’d be great to just gush over how amazing our SO is vs having to listen to them shit-talk and expecting me to do the same. i’m crazy privileged to be in such a happy relationship, but how the hell do i even bring that up.

are you stupid in love and super happy with your SO? plz, let’s talk about how wonderful life is because of them.

#delete later #sigh #personal

[toasttz]

How to make games: MMORPGs

Hey, you! Does your current job not fill enough of your life with soul-crushing misery? Have you ever stopped to consider 'man, I wish I could get into a line of work that involved me wasting more time away from home and friends but I would have to pay infinity dollars for the experience'? I have to say that's a very particular set of tastes, but I play Mei in Overwatch too, so I understand having a weird sadist/masochist relationship with our gaming experiences. I'd also say that it sounds like you're in the market for an MMORPG, which is good because that's what we'll be talking about today! Making an MMORPG is easy, since it requires literally less effort than the last two genres we've covered: no one actually expects you to innovate past the good-old WoW standard of gameplay. So steal the most generic Tolkien stereotypes you can bring together, but leave out all that "Jesus" and "patriotism" stuff that accompanied Tolkien's work, because our primary market is going to be east-Asian countries and 13 year olds with money burning holes in their pockets. Making a character creator is as easy as going through the process of making one yourself, as you start with the obvious stuff like species. Species should include, but never exceed: Humans who are neither good nor bad at anything (but called some kind of stupid fantasy name), Elves for sissy magic users, Dwarves for your tanks, some kind of dragon hybrid for the fucking furry degenerates, and the obligatory Sexy Race which you'll slap all over your ads that show up on the sides and bottoms of webpages when viewed by morons who don't know what AdBlock is for. If the above doesn't address it, you should also pick a class, so just steal them from early D&D: Fighter, Mage, Cleric, Thief, etc. No more than that - gotta save room for those sweet, sweet expansion packs so you can fleece your players for "Monthly Server Maintenance Fees" in addition to the price of the game. Never mind that 'sever maintenance' is just ripping out old HDDs and putting in new ones and that HDDs are dirt-fucking cheap, you need to fleece these fuckers for gold like your name was Jason. (That's a smart joke.) Your art style should revolve around the most generic mono-themes you can steal assets for, preferably in the Unity engine since that won't make it look like unabashed shit or anything. For music, just hit royalty free music websites, because everyone's just gonna put Youtube in the background when they play anyways, so fuck it. We got money to earn and gameplay to digest, so let's get what your players can expect. Remember, making each class distinct is important as all members of a given party operate like different members of a family unit. For instance: DPS Roles are the family dog. They get excited easily and rush into situations without regard for life or limb, usually making way more noise than they have earned any right to make. They think they're the leader of the party since they insist on being front and center of every encounter even though they are not. Tank Roles are the Asian helicopter moms. They feel the need to live vicariously through their DPS compatriots because the damage they dish out is, frankly, paltry and any time the situation isn't about them - they make it about them somehow. They believe they are the leaders of the party, though they obviously rarely have control over the most immediate threats, let alone the entire party of sociopaths. Support Roles are the stern fathers. They can't immediately intervene on the behalves of the above roles no matter how much they want to, so they stand back and grant all the help they can muster and, at best, will be largely ignored despite the fact that their movements will dictate the pace, flow, and results of combat above all others. They will only be recognized for what they do when they fail in their tasks, which makes this metaphor hit a bit too close to home for most. Just remember: Supports who aren't active in their party are every Raid Boss's future wingman. Don't come crying to me when your DPS Daughteru comes home dating one of those degenerate dragon-people! Anyways, the pacing of the game is paramount, since making an "end" of an MMORPG is essentially illegal, so you need to make it so it's easy to get to somewhere between levels 30-50 before you just start scaling things on a logarithmic basis. For those who don't math good like what I do: your first three level ups should happen more or less instantly upon completion of the tutorial and the players should be able to make good progress over the next few dozen levels as they play with their friends and make larger parties for stronger instances. However, you're not gonna be wringing any monthly server fees out of these plebs if you make it that easy on them, so around level 40-ish or so, just start slapping higher multiplier values on the Exp. required to level up to the point where solar eclipses happen with greater regularity than the "LEVEL UP" chime. By the time players hit this wall, they'll make one of three choices: that they will persist through the grind because the game is literally all they do outside of work now, they will ragequit (and hopefully forget to cancel their credit card subscription to the game with some luck!), or they'll resort to the premium cash shop. What, you didn't know your MMO needed a premium cash shop? Well it does, wake up and smell the lack of ethics, game dev! For some paltry sum between 1 and infinity bucks, your players can buy some kind of in-game premium currency, as mentioned in my gacha explanation. In fact the comparisons here are apt as this, too, is morally dubious and really is for trying to wrench even more money out of your players for something that they can rest more or less assured that you aren't gonna update meaningfully until Halley's Comet passes through the solar system again. However, for some amount of this premium currency, they should be allowed super powerful weapons and armors that completely invalidate any sense of pacing up until the low 70s level range. This will help them play further into the mindless grind until they are playing at least for a few months (worth of fees) time. Once hopelessly addicted, they'll slog through the remaining 30 levels or so of grind, ideally. All other premium currency items should be cosmetics - preferably cosmetics with expiration dates so you can fleece them for their fashionista tendencies repeatedly. If you have any pangs that make you think this might be "not exactly on-the-level", hey, you're right! You're really getting the hang of modern game design! After that, it's time make expansion packs! The beauty of this is that not only have they paid for the base game and monthly fees, but now they get to buy the game ALL OVER AGAIN! Slap on a few extra islands and some quests to populate them and sometimes raise the level cap. The design is the easy part. The name is where you will likely struggle. However, using our advanced scientific algorithms, we have deduced that the ideal title should follow the template: "Adjective Noun Adjective" plus or minus a definitive article and a couple of "Of"s. Do you not know what those are? That probably means you're at the right IQ level to actively make MMOs! Or to play them! Oh yeah, every second expansion pack you should add an additional class - preferably one that invalidates the classes of an earlier build, so as to subtly 'encourage' making a new character. But the prereqs for getting these should be difficult to the point of patent absurdity. After all, you can't class change to a "Bumtickler" until you get that level 85 Pirate! Congrats! You're a soulless monster who cares naught for their fellow man. You are now a living example of gaining the world and losing your soul. I hope the Faustian bargain was worth it. You're welcome.

#satire #video games #games #MMORPG