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seeingivy · 1 year

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elevated heart rates

levi ackerman x f!reader

levi’s a mind reader and you’re a love expert

content: grad student levi, brain researchers, nile being a weirdo freak (sorry yall), mentions of drinking, levi is shirtless at one point, reader has claustrophobia

an: started my big girl brain research fellowship today. hence - brain jargon and GRAD STUDENT LEVI

The room is small - the nineteen of you cramming into the small space of the conference room. You’re located directly at the front, sitting next to your advisor, Dot Pyxis. A leading expert in the field, one of the first neuroscientists you had met at a conference when you were a freshman in college.

You saw it - the way his eyes lighted up, the way he was stumbling over his words because he was so excited to explain what he did everyday that you wanted that. To be that excited about something. And here you were, sitting next to him about to make it happen.

You moved to Marley two months ago for this very moment. Your first day at the Brain Consortium - one of the best neuroscience research labs in the country, led by Pyxis himself. He was going to co-advise your thesis, guide you into becoming an expert in the field. Unlike any other, this lab was barely limited to one field, instead equipped with researchers from many different departments, the projects, the papers entirely interdisciplinary.

There was no other place like it. You can feel your hands shaking as you hand over your hard drive, your presentation loaded on to it. Pyxis had explained it all - there were weekly lab meetings where everyone came together, presenting their research. Everyone gave feedback, asked questions to help further expand and build on the projects.

And it was your turn. On your very first day, you were expected to explain. What you were going to research, what you were going to contribute, what you were excited about.

It’s fucking nerve wracking. Pyxis stands up, giving you one last shoulder squeeze, before introducing everyone in the lab to you. He points everyone out - the other assistant professors, post-doctoral researchers, and the other PhD students.

“Hange Zoe, Erwin Smith, Levi Ackerman, Petra Ral, and Nile Dok. The other PhD students. I want the five of you to give her a tour of the lab after.”

They all nod, a few of them giving you encouraging smiles as you start. Pyxis turns to you, taking your seat at the table as you take the pointer in your hands, starting your presentation.

“Right. Um, I’m F/N L/N. It’s nice to meet you all. I, um, completed my undergraduate studies at Shiganshina University. I got a b-bachelors in applied neuroscience and computational biology. I’ll be presenting my thesis project pr-proposal.”

You hate this shit. You’re stuttering over your words and they’re all staring back, completely uninterested in your work. The PhD students in front of you aren’t even taking you seriously - the girl with glasses nearly stumbling off her chair from sliding around on it and the guy with dark black, grey steely eyes more interested in his cup of fucking tea than what you were talking about.

“Right, so. My project aims to study interoceptive signals - like heartbeat, respiration cycles, blood pressure - and use them to predict and decode intentions. These small biomarkers, entirely unconscious to us, are consistent during decision making, unbeknownst to us. We can exploit that - to understand higher level cognition.”

You’ve got their attention - you can tell. This is always the easy part, drawing them in - the woman from before stopped sliding on her chair, instead leaning forward with her eyes shining at your slides, the guy with the tea momentarily flickering his eyes up to the screen.

“You can use it to predict how people act, how they feel. Especially for something like heart rate, which is what I want to focus on, you can understand so many things - anxiety, stress, companionship, sexual attraction, romance.”

You see one of the PhD students murmur under his breath, interrupting you in your stead. Nile, they said his name was.

“So you want to be a…love expert?”

The entire room laughs, giving you smiles as you continue on. You give him a smile, responding.

“I guess you could say that.”

You continue on - highlighting how the brain regulates these signals, what equipment you’ll be using to record all of it.

They clap when you’re done. Success.

You feel fully settled into the lab, a few months later. You’ve decorated your tiny cubicle, directly in the middle with the other PhD students, with a few knick knacks - a picture of you and your best friend, a tiny little green figurine your parents gifted you, and a rack for your headphones.

You’re located in the section with the other PhD students, who are…interesting.

On the first day, they lead you to take the cubicle directly next to Hange, which you realized was a bad idea. Because they set you up. Hange’s a biochemist - doing research on the brain tissue at the molecular level, trying to understand how glioblastomas progress. Meaning - they’re always playing with chemicals at their desk, sometimes too lazy to walk over to the lab, which leads to some interesting smells and…smokes in your area.

They never get in trouble, because Erwin and Petra always come to save the day. They’re both leading policy experts, studying volition and decision making in hopes to use in applications to the law and judicial systems. Figuring out why criminals commit crimes, using it for to serve justice. They cover up the evidence, distract Pyxis and Shadis, and talk their way out of it on Hange’s behalf.

And that leaves Nile, who isn’t particularly your favorite. He’s a bit hard to get along with, not exactly personable per say. He’s researching microdosing and addiction - trying to figure out how we can manipulate medicines or drugs into being more or less addictive.

You almost forgot about him. Levi, who's currently leading you to the MRI room on the other side of the building. Definitely the most intriguing of all of your colleagues - using transcranial brain stimulation to decode intentions. In less jargony terms, he read minds.

He puts the decisions made on the tests into algorithms, correcting it until the machines can predict the decisions being made perfectly - that can be applied to anyone, not just singular participants. He’s coding human thought into machines. And doing it successfully.

Levi’s quiet, perplexing, and intelligent. An enigma. He’s stood out to you, more than anyone else, for the simple reason that he’s the only one who doesn’t want to talk to you. Hange invites you out for drinks, Petra introduced you to her boyfriend, Erwin bought you a birthday present even though you didn’t tell anyone it was your birthday, and Nile asked you on a date (which you obviously declined).

But Levi doesn’t care. You don’t either, but it does intrigue you at times. Why he’s so quiet, so closed off, what he’s always doing on his laptop, who he texts on his breaks. This was the first time you were alone with him - getting roped into participating in his newest study.

“Newbie has to do it.”

“Do what, Hange?”

“Levi likes to experiment on all of our brains. You’ve never done it and he needs someone, so we’re volunteering you.”

Hange and Erwin pull you up by the wrists, all but pushing you out of the conference room into Levi’s cubicle, where you almost trip and fall over him. He looks up - already deeply uninterested with the three of you standing in his space - as he removes his hands from his keyboard.

“What, brats?”

“I’m not participating. She is. Take her away!”

He looks between the three of you, clearly unamused with how nonchalant Hange was being about the whole thing, as they knocked over Levi’s stack of books on the floom. They nearly shake his entire frame in their hands as they thanked him profusely for not making them participate.

Erwin picks up the stack of books - somehow shuffling them all out of order as Levi gets even more frustrated - shooing the two of them out of his space. After successfully removing them, you and Levi walk towards the MRI room, all the way across the building, in silence.

When you get there, he taps his hand on the platform, signaling for you to sit on it. You obediently follow, still not uttering an entire word. You watch him mill around the room - pressing switches, using the intercom to communicate with the operator, turning the lights off.

“Wearing any metal?”

“My necklace. I’ll take it off.”

You reach up, awkwardly fumbling with the clasp as he watches you, his hands pressed to his sides as he waits. You’re not sure what it is - how sweaty your hands are, the way he’s looking at you, awkwardly waiting for you to finish - but you can’t get the clasp off, your hold shaking behind your hair.

“I can help you.”

You meekly nod, getting off the platform. Before you can, he reaches forward, his slender hands gathering your hair before placing them across the side to your shoulder. You feel his knuckles against your nape, quickly unlatching the necklace and fixing your hair back into place.

“I’ll hold it for you.”

You get back onto the platform, lying flat, as Levi uses the intercom to signal to Armin, one of the undergraduate students who worked in the MRI building. You can feel the platform sliding you into the tube and you suddenly feel it.

Your claustrophobia. Every horrible thought you can imagine is running through your head as the machine starts whirring, your heart pounding in your chest. An earthquake - the machine would crush you. The magnets can be too fast, the machine malfunctioning while you’re stuck inside it. There could be a fire and you would be left here, everyone leaving you and locking you out of the room.

“You okay?”

“Y-yeah, Armin. Sorry. I get a bit claustrophobic, that’s all.”

“Okay, take your time. Try to stay still so we can get better pictures.”

You nod, trying to still your breaths as the machine whirrs on again. You can feel your nails digging into your palms, as you try to calm down, the panic still sitting in your chest. You feel a hand circle around your ankle, squeezing twice, as the machine keeps going.

“You okay, Newbie?”

“Yeah, Levi. I’m okay.”

“I’m here. Get out if you’re uncomfortable. I’ll just drag Shitty Glasses by the scalp to do it instead of you.”

You laugh, his hold still firm on your ankle. You try to focus on it - the fine print on the machine, your back against the platform, his fingers on your skin as the machine keeps going, your panic still writhing in your chest. The MRI finishes - Levi giving you one last squeeze before the platform slides out and you nearly jump out of the machine.

You and Levi walk back to the main lab, in silence. When you get there, Levi gives Hange’s ponytail one big yank before settling back into his cubicle, giving you a soft smile before you return to yours.

It’s Levi’s turn to present for the lab meeting. The lab is going to Hizuru for Sigtuna, one of the largest neuroscience conferences to date. The PhD students are all presenting posters, except Levi who was invited to give a talk.

You had been helping Levi as of late - working with him to identify the sulcuses and the lobes on all of Levi’s MRIs. He had no experience in magnetic resonance imaging whatsoever - something you had spent years learning during undergrad. So the two of you had worked out a system - you helped him with identifying the images and helped you troubleshoot your code for your tasks whenever you needed it (which was often).

You spent a lot of time together - even if it wasn’t direct. You’d sit in silence in the main conference room, working for hours. He’d bring you a cup of coffee and you would pick up dinner, talking through ideas as you finished off your projects.

You had helped him write the grant for the talk instead of the poster, helping him with all the physiological portions. He taught you how to do all the analysis for yours - the two of you often the one’s leaving the lab latest, Levi walking you to your car in the dark before walking off to his own.

You were friends. Project partners.

He gives you one last look before starting the presentation and you shoot him a thumbs up under the table, which he returns with a smile. He’s explaining - using your brain and Hange’s as the sample templates to explain what he was doing - what parts of the brain he has to use for his machine learning.

“This is Newbie’s and this is Hange’s brain. In theory, each part of the brain is slightly bigger, depending on what parts of your brain you exercise more. For example, Hange is involved in more motor-dexterity - running all their projects by hand. This part of the sulcus is more developed, bigger because of it, compared to Newbie.”

Nile nudges you on the side, whispering something about how he can give you something to do with your hands if you needed it. You roll your eyes, awkwardly shuffling farther as you refocus on what Levi was saying.

“This part of the brain is more developed for Newbie, the Brodmann areas - associated with critical thinking, higher level cognition, decision making. Good thing I didn’t use your brain, Dok. We wouldn’t even be able to catch it on the image if we used yours.”

The entire room laughs - Nile sulking in his chair as Levi continues. You don’t miss the look he gives you afterwards, his eyes uncharacteristically soft when he meets yours, as he continues the presentation.

When he finishes, Pyxis goes over the room assignments, mentioning that there were three rooms for all the PhD students - meaning a few of you would have to pair up. You turn your neck to look at Petra, who's already nodding and agreeing with Hange that they would room together. You deflate, watching Erwin and Levi pair up. Which leaves you next to Nile, who's all but too excited to be your partner.

He slings his arm around your shoulder, saying that you guys can share the bed if it gets cold at night, which leaves you shooting dangerous looks at Hange. Levi catches on first, immediately dragging Erwin over to where the two of you were standing.

“Dok. Erwin is going to room with you.”

“Says who?”

“Says me. Don’t argue with me today, I’m already sick of you.”

Levi grabs you by the wrist, dragging you towards the other side of the room as he rambles on.

“What a fucking idiot. First he interrupts me during my talk and then starts saying perverted shit like that. Someone’s going to smack him upside the head one day and I surely hope for my sake it’s me.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, squeezing him twice before letting go.

“Thank you for that - I was literally going to vomit if I had to room with him.”

“Well, I told you before. I’m here if you’re uncomfortable.”

You nod, the two of you walking into the conference room to make edits to your presentation.

You and Levi come back to your hotel room after the conference, positively plastered. He’d all but given his talk perfectly and your poster won an award at the end - which meant you and Levi were celebrating well into the night.

You had your arms slung around each other, your weight uneven, as you both slide back into the hotel room, falling onto the singular bed in the room. You and Levi were greeted with the unpleasant sight earlier in the day - you and Levi both insisting that you would be the ones to sleep on the couch.

You’re both lying face up on the bed - your cheeks flushed, your chests heaving up and down, the only sound in the room being your shaky breaths. Your hands are still locked together, your brain fuzzy from the events of the night.

You and Levi amble up after a few minutes, both attempting to change into your pajamas and go to bed. You ogle Levi as he takes his shirt off, watching from the side of the mirror. He catches you, walking closer to you. He still reeks of beer, still shaking on his feet.

He leans over, pressing his forehead against yours as you hold onto his arms, grounding your fingers into his biceps. He’s still not wearing a shirt, his bare chest on display. You fight the urge to stare at him full on.

“You’re smart, Y/N.”

“You’re smart too, Levi.”

“Did you pay attention during my talk?”

“Y-yes. You code the information, like a puzzle, to figure out what people’s intentions are.”

“Hm. You be me. I’ll give you the information and you figure it out, okay?”

You nod, barely understanding what he was getting at as you lean into him. You can feel the buzz dying down, the tiredness setting into your bones.

“I’m not a mind reader like you, Levi.”

“You’ll get this one. You’re my smart girl.”

He reaches down, securing his hands around your waist as he pulls you closer to him. Your hands and frame are pressed against his chest, his skin cold to the touch.

“You caught my eye on the first day, with your perfectly pressed hair and that stupid black skirt.”

You can feel your breath catch in your throat, the sound not leaving your throat.

“You take the cubicle two feet down from mine and I can’t help but watch you - reorganize your desk, get up to get water, scribble things on the whiteboard.”

You can feel his heartbeat get faster against your hear, his grip on your waist tightening. You’re suddenly too aware of what’s happening - Levi, PhD Levi, is shirtless, hugging you in a hotel room. The lights are dim, there’s only one bed, and he’s holding you.

“I don’t work with other people at the lab, but when you ask, I do. I leave the lab way past the required time, willingly spending more time in a room with that idiot Nile in it just because you’re in it too.”

“Levi.”

“I’m not done.”

“It drives me crazy, every time Nile talks to you, touches you, looks at you. I want to sock him in the face - because he’s not nearly good enough for you. Not that anyone could be, but for some idiot like that to think he stands a chance is next level infuriating.”

He releases his hands from your face, lifting his hands to cup your face. His touch his soft, his thumb caressing the burning skin on your cheeks as his eyes meet yours.

“I think about you all the time. When I wake up, when I go to sleep, when I eat my breakfast. When I’m not with you, I just want to be around you. And when I’m around you, I want to be with you.”

He leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. His lips are pillowy soft, his breath tickling the edges of your forehead.

“What does it mean? Figure out my intentions, smart girl.”

You can feel your entire body burning, your head still spinning - from the alcohol, Levi’s touch, his words ringing in your ears.

“You…like me.”

“That’s a fact. Not an intention.”

“You…want to kiss me?”

He smiles, leaning forward to press his lips to yours. The kiss is warm, the taste of the beer still hanging on his lips. You can feel his hands moving, carding through your hair as you reach up to press your hand against his shoulders. He kisses you for a long time - your body burning at the entire sensation. He breaks apart, still smiling against your lips.

“Smart girl.”

“Do you…remember my research, Levi? From the first day?”

“I’ve memorized every single thing you’ve ever said to me.”

You can feel your cheeks flushing, Levi’s hands returning to squish the sides of your face. You grab one of his hands, opening up his fingers and placing it flat against your chest. You move his hand around, until you’re sure he can feel your heart - which is pounding in your chest.

“Heart rate can give away a great deal. The biomarker can help you understand a lot of different emotions. Figure out which one I’m feeling, Levi.”

He leans forward, pressing soft kisses all over your face as he starts asking.

“Anxiety?” - a soft kiss, right on top of your head.

“No.”

“Stress?” - a light kiss, right on your closed eyelids.

“No, Levi.”

“Companionship.” - a sweet kiss, right on your lips.

“Yes. But that’s not the one I was looking for.”

You watch a smirk spread across his face as he leans down, spreading soft kisses all along your neck. He murmurs against your neck, a hint of teasing in his voice.

“Sexual attraction?”

“Levi. Quit being a tease.”

“Shut up, brat.”

“No. You missed one, Levi.”

“What was it?”

“Love. A heartbeat can give away a great deal - can even be used to indicate and understand romantic feelings.”

He press his hand against your chest again, your heart still hammering.

“It’s fast. What does that mean?”

“That I love you.”

You see a big smile spread across his face, reaching all the way up to his eyes. You see him now and you think it’s the best he’s ever looked - messy black hair, pink cheeks, squinted eyes. He reaches down, opening your fingers and placing them against his bare chest. You can feel his heart hammering in his chest.

“Fast.”

“Yeah. Means I love you too, smart girl.”

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mindblowingscience · 10 months

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“You can actually estimate the movement of the eyes, the position of the target that the eyes are going to look at, just from recordings made with a microphone in the ear canal,” says senior study author Jennifer Groh, a professor in the departments of psychology and neuroscience and neurobiology at Duke University. In 2018, Groh’s team discovered that the ears make a subtle, imperceptible noise when the eyes move. In the new study, published in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, the team now shows that these sounds can reveal where your eyes are looking. It also works the other way around. Just by knowing where someone is looking, Groh and her team were able to predict what the waveform of the subtle ear sound would look like. These sounds, Groh believes, may be caused when eye movements stimulate the brain to contract either middle ear muscles, which typically help dampen loud sounds, or the hair cells that help amplify quiet sounds. The exact purpose of these ear squeaks is unclear, but Groh’s initial hunch is that it might help sharpen people’s perception.

#Science #Neurobiology #Psychology #Hearing #Vision

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ivesambrose · 2 years

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2023 𝓜𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓪𝓰𝓮𝓼 🫧

1. 2.

3. 4.

HAPPY NEW YEAR and my new year gift to you all. You thought I'd forget huh? 😉

Choose the gif / gifs you feel intuitively pulled towards the most ✨

To book a personal reading with me DM or email me at [email protected] with your name and query 🌙

Services offered

Winter & new years readings

Feedback

Thank you for the tip 🌹

Gif 1

Themes :

Expansion, learning and exploration.

Messages :

You'll be feeling a lot more youthful and playful compared to the previous months. Like you've been serious and taking things to heart for so long and feeling like Eustace Bagge from Courage the cowardly dog most of the time but now you feel more like Bugs Bunny. This is the best analogy I can give.

Its your turn to inspire the people around you or those who get to meet you this year.

Some of you might pick up cooking as a hobby or profession or would want to start experimenting with recipes at home or better eating in general instead of eating out.

You'll be showered with compliments a lot this year so if anyone tries to dull your shine you know it's irrelevant.

You'll have some decisions to make in terms of career / study opportunities and you will feel indecisive at first as to which is the better option but trust in yourself to choose the best one.

You'll be getting out more or would simply be on your way to something that leads to a lot of financial bliss.

Things will take off soon and suddenly maybe even sudden travel plans and receiving everything at once that might seem overwhelming and you might get anticipation anxiety, certain jitters or just worrying about what's ahead or even improper sleep. But things will be alright. Keep your focus on the bigger picture.

Make that vision board for the love of God.

Romantically you'll have really high standards. Yet I see you nitpicking yourself. Stop that! (pretty please) I do see you being offered love by someone head over heels for you but you'll take your time opening up and be fixated on yourself and your goals for the most part so perhaps a slow burn in that department or you'll just relish in finding a sense of yourself and the career you've always wanted this year.

Gif 2

Themes :

Dreams, imagination, subconscious, spirituality.

Messages :

You'll be focused on the positive and positive only. Seeing things in your favour. Feeling more optimistic, manifesting friends with the same mindset and in turn finding more clarity. I see that some of you have literally put your foot down and decided that, "nope. Show me how good it can get."

You've matured so much and are at this point rather unfazed by the ups and downs life throws at you. You've always made or will be making peace with yourself. That you don't need to plaster a label on your personality and niche yourself down to be more palatable. You're a mix and match of several things and that's perfectly okay.

You may inherent some wealth. Some of you might move to a new house or redecorate your house in a way you've always wanted. You'll feel like you've achieved something tangible this year that you're really proud of.

There may be a moment where you look back at the past and judge yourself harshly. Please refrain from dwelling in this.

You'll be educating yourself on a certain topic you feel drawn to. Possible topics I'm seeing : how your subconscious works, neuroscience, mythology, language, music, skin (dermatology or cosmetology)

I see you letting go of your sorrows because you have faith that what's yours won't pass you by.

A lot of vivid dreams and possible precognitions. Learning to lucid dream as well.

Romantically I'm sensing there's someone that matches your energy. They will end up being your muse or you'll end up being theirs. You'll grow closer when you least expect it even though you'll intuitively see it coming.

Gif 3

Themes :

Overcoming a dark night of the soul, curiosity, collaborations and connections.

Messages :

Oh you're walking away. Literally. People, places, situations, mindsets, mostly manipulation. It's like you finally decided to pack up and leave and the right opportunity showed up for you to do it. I see relief after grief.

You may be managing two jobs/income sources/multiple daily life things. At first it might be difficult but you'll soon get the hang of it and also find time for yourself.

I see some of you getting into skincare and wellness. Even fragrances? Things that make you feel calm and are therapeutic. You have neglected yourself for a long time so now that you've finally decided to make yourself priority little things like this feel like therapy almost. As if you're pretending to be in a vouge beauty secrets video just for yourself.

I would like to remind you, if no one has. I'm very proud of you.

There will be a lot of boundaries you'll establish this year. Be mindful not to end up being too sharp tounged to people who really do mean well. Not everyone is out to get you.

Things are changing this year and even if this change feels uncomfortable due to its newness. Its something you've been wanting. Also, improved finances. Sudden windfall even. Making the right connections that lead you to your own growth be it personal growth or growth in business or otherwise. By the end of the year you'll feel like you have more than enough. That you don't need to feel on the edge all the time. Like the bright sunny morning has finally come after a long stormy night.

Gif 4

Themes :

Self expression, travel, foreign cultures and strength.

Messages :

I can hear Freddie Mercury sing, "I want to break free." loud and clear near my ears.

I see you rebranding and reconstructing yourself. It reminds me of Maxine looking at the mirror and saying, "I will not accept a life I do not deserve."

I actually see that something that has been challenging for you suddenly just being swept away. Like you really don't have to physically exhert yourself so much. Drop the baggage my loves. Not yours to carry this year.

Its okay to manifest or seek the easiest ways. Simplify things for yourself.

I see a lot of you just realizing your worth and falling in love with yourself. Looking the way you want, dressing the way you want, courting yourself and taking yourself out on dates to the point your standard is you yourself. Honestly? Truly? Love that for you.

You'll be very determined. Like nothing stands in between you and your desires. You know what is yours. Period.

You'll realize how a simple perspective shift and not forcing yourself to do something or reacting is the key to getting what you want.

Some of you will love to document moments for yourself a lot. Maybe invest in a Polaroid camera or digital or point and shoot camera for yourself.

There's so much creative spark around you, I just see you going at with no desire for perfection. Simply fun.

You'll reap your rewards especially monetary. And have several projects to look forward to. One symbol that might follow you are spiders or spider webs or little stars when something good is about to happen.

Romantically? Oh you will be pursued alright but why am I getting y'all just don't pick up on hints? I'm literally hearing the song Loco by Itzy for y'all. So you'll be having an impact on maybe many people but you'll be oblivious to it. I think you're choosing peace and harmony so you'll rather want to be around who feels the same and go with the flow.

If you're already taken I just see more harmony and cooperation in your existing relationship.

#Pick a card #PAC #pick a card 2023 #pick a card reading #2023 Messages #Spirituality #psychic readings #tarot readers of tumblr #Pick a pile

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minilibrarian · 2 years

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Today’s grabs 📖

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neurocleansed · 3 months

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Dr Psalm, accredited inventor of Sanitization and previous head of the Department of Sanitization — current head of the Department of Neuroscience at the Kamabo Corporation

#Splatoon #Splatoon 2 #Octo Expansion #Splatoon art #Splatoon OCS #Octoling

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faaun · 2 years

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IM SO HAPPY RN

#maths + CS + neuroscience profs got back to me at once and told me i can join omgggg #sjfjfn aaaaaaaa #personal #ONE OF THEM IS THE MANIFOLDS ONE #theyre not gonna let me take the exams bc i would be going over the credit limit by wayyy too much and also the department is rly strict #etc but i can audit it AKA it would show up on my records + i can attend the classes lectured seminars tutorials etc etc #but also he sent me an email abt how the exams work.. which suggests hes like. yh u can also do the exam #but also do i want to #bc on one hand it wont show up as a 0 credit module #on the other hand im already doing too much . so to say. if that makes sense. xoxo #anyway im so happy omg

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i-am-minty-fresh · 15 days

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I’ve always viewed myself as someone with a poor memory. Someone who isn’t smart. Someone who lies because they are afraid of not knowing and being seen as stupid.

Today I went to a lab to shadow a graduate student in the neuroscience department. She’s doing research on the effects that anti-aging supplements have on pregnant mice. She’s whip smart.

Since she’s also my TA in another class, she noticed that on an introductory assignment I wrote down that I know a lot of ocean animal facts, so she asked about what I knew. I told her what I knew. I told her about the biology of sharks, the evolution of whales, the controversy around carcinization, how sunfish got their name, the reasons that dolphins are fucked up, the importance of isopods in deep sea environments.

She asked me what my major was and I told her I’m a psych and political science major. I explained my interest in learning behavior not just in isolated events but rather throughout history in the form of worldwide policy. I informed her on Milton Friedman and the role he had in fucking up South America, and on Classical liberalism v. Modern liberalism and the common arguments.

I informed her on how caffeine negatively interacts with adderall and how people with ADHD commonly report that caffeine in fact makes them tired, on auditory processing disorders and what makes them distinct from being hard of hearing, on how/why autistic people have a hard time regulating volume.

I told her some of the steps in preparing a body, I informed her that you can ask for a taping of your own surgery, I told her different toxic paints, I told her the proposed uses of a spinosaurus’ spines.

She called me smart. She called me impressive.

The minute I learn something is the minute that knowledge becomes assumed. If it makes sense than, to me, it’s not impressive to know.

But to her knowing all of that makes me smart. It makes me impressive.

I think I like her view of things better.

#minty musings #autism #adhd

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catboybiologist · 1 year

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Random actual vent that is probably more venty than my usual random little things, but occasionally I have to step back and think how asinine the salary system for PhD students can sound to people outside of academia. I really just want to like... lay it on the table, because it really is fucking dumb and I occasionally want validation that its fucking dumb.

Note that this is all coming from a traditional lab sciences, in the US perspective. Also, I'm really fucking ADHD and have a really, really shitty brain for bureacracy, so this is a rant and isn't really intended to be informative and might be wrong in places, its just me word vomiting.

Let's start with something straight off the bat- grad school isn't really school. It's work that creates value for the university, and you happen to take one or two courses on the side that the university has determined will make you better at that work (your mileage may vary). It's an entry level job, essentially. You create value for the university in one of two ways- you either contribute to research that gets them grant money, or you teach undergrads that pay tuition. We'll get back to how that affects you later, but first lets talk about something else: what the university claims they pay you vs what you actually get paid.

On paper, my income is approximately 3 times as much as my actual, take home income. There's two reasons for this. The first is that I am technically charged tuition by the central university, which is then immediately paid off by the source of my income. In official job titles, that's technically included in what you're getting paid, although most universities don't even bother advertising that. The other confounding factor is that you're literally always considered part time. The exact % time varies depending on your exact schedule, and of course your university, but its actually weirdly consistent even between universities. Technically, the work you do on your thesis isn't "work", and the university doesn't technically pay you to do it. Even though the work you do on your thesis literally generates revenue for the university in the form of grant overhead. But we'll get to that. If you're a researcher for a given appointment term, you're expected to also do research activities that are unconnected to your thesis- which is ridiculous, because there's no lab in existence where the work isn't all interconnected in some way.

Half time appointments are common, but lots of different percentages exist.

So, if you ever see a figure that says that a grad student position is paid at about $80k a year, that's whats going on. The highest take-home income I have EVER heard of in the US for PhD students is $54k, at Stanford neuroscience. I think its a bit higher now, but that at least gets you a ballpark. Most STEM PhD students on the high cost of living coasts are paid 30-40k ish, and in cheaper areas you can expect to take 5k off of that. These are for degrees that usually make six figures on the job market.

And then there's the other convoluted problem- the source of the funding. This is where the academia salary model really has a unique brand.

Basically, when you're a PhD student, you're not working one job for the full 5-7 years. You're constantly flipping between job titles within the university, and who exactly is paying you changes as a result.

The most basic distinction is researcher vs teaching assistant. TA is easy- you work "part time" (but oh my god those workloads are not part time sometimes [although the class I'm TAing now is very chill so its w/e][fuck you molecular genetics at my master's uni tho]), and the department you're teaching for pays for your tuition and your salary as a result.

Researcher is a bit weirder. Basically, each lab is conducted as its own independent financial unit, managed by a Principle Investigator (PI, or to any grad student, the professor/boss/research advisor/liege/monarch/authority of the lab). The PI is constantly writing lab wide grants to supply the core funding of the lab, including the salary of the grad students. Grants can be pretty general, but there are also very specific ones that check in how the money is being spent. These include training grants/fellowships/tbh the name is arbitrary for a lot of these. Those are grants that are written to supply the salary of a specific grad student.

Couple things to note- the university charges the PI in a lot of ways on this. Notably:

They charge tuition on every grad student, as mentioned previously, which under a researcher appointment is paid from the PI to the university.

They charge overhead on grants- basically, they take money out of every grant the PI gets.

If the previous two sources aren't enough, oftentimes universities will pay rent on the amount of building space a lab takes up (although this is very inconsistent between universities)

Researcher appointments are considered favorable to teaching appointments, because they mean you can spend more of your time on your thesis. But, its dependent on whether your PI has the funding to pay you all that, which is a big if. So, every quarter or semester or year or however much your university decides to renegotiate it, you essentially switch jobs, in a way. Obviously its a lot more simple and streamlined than actually switching jobs, but your title, responsibility, source of income, and sometimes your actual pay changes constantly.

And to anyone who has been through a PhD, you're nodding along like this is all the basic stuff, because all this is so NORMAL. Like this is all the normal system, and this is the bare basics of it as well. And it's weird that it's normal, right? Like, most of my career has been tied to academia, so I don't have a fantastic benchmark for this, but this isn't how it works outside of academia like... at all.

Over the course of late last year and bleeding into this year, multiple graduate student unions have had strikes or negotiations regarding pay scale, but its been a very difficult situation for the average grad student to untangle because of how weird the source of pay is. Because technically, even though you functionally work a single, salaried job with slightly changing obligations, what's happening behind the scenes is that you're essentially hopping between jobs every couple of months. In an ideal system, those jobs always have the same pay, but that's increasingly becoming not the case. Sometimes that means getting paid more overall, sometimes slightly less. Union negotiations have made this pay slightly higher overall, but its still a mess of a system.

And obviously, there's paperwork associated with so many of these steps.

So in my last post, when I said "getting a grant", that was what I was referring to- applying for training grants that will guarantee that I don't have to teach extra or get extra money from my PI for the time I'm here. I'd love to get more teaching experience, but ofc I want to do it when I want to, not when I have to. I'm applying for multiple training grants over the next couple of months that will hopefully fund my salary specifically, and hopefully I'll get at least one of them. And tbh, I don't even care that much about teaching, I more want them because it'll dramatically simplify all this for me.

I love what I do to death, but untangling this shit is what gives me imposter syndrome more than anything. I think my arrogant streak shows when I can genuinely say that I've never felt imposter syndrome based on my scientific knowledge. I have felt it over two things- my motivation/productivity (which is a different rant entirely), and the fact that I am really, really bad at untangling the level of bureaucracy required to just... exist here. Just give me my fucking paycheck and let me do my science, and tell me when you want me to teach.

#vent post #like an actual one lol

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atinylittlepain · 2 years

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Firehouse Harrington - Chapter 7

fireman!Steve x f!reader/f!oc

series masterlist

Steve struggles watching his girl pave her way to a bright future. Will he be able to stand by her side? Or will he let his mind drown him in doubt?

warnings | 18+ SMUT, dubcon, rough sex, degradation, use of safe word, serious angst, alcoholism, y'all been warned

a/n | there's no two ways about it, this one is rough, heavy on the angst, light on everything else, thus is life with toxic steve

...................

She hasn’t felt this nervous in a long time. She looks at her reflection in the full length mirror of the hotel room, smoothing her palms down her dark green dress. It’s the most grown-up thing she’s ever worn, she had bought it just two weeks ago from a secondhand shop, a vintage fit and flare wrap that stopped at her shins, simple black heels on her feet. She needed to look adult tonight, professional, but dressy. The neuroscience department at her school was throwing its annual holiday banquet at one of the fancy hotels in the city, and she had been invited amongst a small number of other students. The faculty only invited those at the top of the class, and she knew it was a huge compliment, and also a huge opportunity. It’d be a chance to talk to the heads of the doctorate program at Indiana University, a golden ticket that she wanted badly. Needless to say, she was a tangle of nerves getting ready to head down to dinner.

“Holy shit.” She’s broken out of her swimming mind by Steve’s breathy words, turning around to see him leaning against the bathroom door frame. She has to take a sharp inhale to stop herself from letting out her own curse at the sight of him. He’s wearing a perfectly fitted black suit, crisp white shirt underneath and a tie hanging undone around his neck. She’s never seen him cleaned up so nice. Her eyes finally flit up to his face, seeing the slack expression as he takes her in. She blushes under his hungry gaze, quickly moving over to him and getting to work on his tie. He rests his palms on her waist, dipping slightly to squeeze at the softness of her hips.

“Thank you– you look so fucking beautiful right now.” She finishes doing his tie, smoothing her palm down the length of it before finally looking back up at him. His eyes are practically melting at the sight of her, all soft and sweet. She leans up to plant a quick kiss to his lips.

“You’re welcome, handsome. God– I just feel nervous.” She chews at her bottom lip, brow creasing as she looks at him. Steve is quick to bring his palm up to her jaw, thumb lightly coaxing her deep frown away.

“Don’t be, huh? Already know you’re gonna be the smartest one in the room, honey. Nothing to worry about.” She snorts, shaking her head lightly.

“I doubt that. But, thank you, Stevie. I guess we should probably head down.” He nods, stealing one more kiss from her before resting his hand on her low back as they head out.

“I’ve got you, baby. Be right beside you.”

…

Steve is out of his fucking depth, and he realizes it very quickly once they get down to the banquet hall. First of all, he hasn’t worn a suit in years, the only reason he has this one is because his mom sent it to him to wear to his grandma’s funeral three years ago. He’s just lucky it still fits. Second of all, the instant they walk in, people are on her. It’s clear she’s golden to these people, a top student with promising prospects, and while Steve wants to only feel proud of her, he can’t help but feel frustrated by how he has no goddamn clue what they’re talking about. Phrases are getting thrown around like “ischemic infarction” and “diffusion tensor imaging” and “ideomotor apraxia” like these are things normal people talk about. But it’s clear that it is stuff she normally talks about by how easily she can work the conversation with these eggheads.

Meanwhile, everytime she introduces him to another colleague of hers, Steve gets a little more tense under his shirt collar. He can see the question on their faces when she tells them what he does for a living, a look that says why the hell is she with him? As the night continues and all he can do is smile and nod, pretending to understand what they’re talking about, Steve starts to wonder the same thing.

Ever since Thanksgiving, Steve has been trying hard to be better for her. He even started seeing a shrink at the VA center once a week, something that he still thinks is useless, but he really likes the proud look she gets when he tells her he has another appointment. He stopped drinking, at the therapist’s behest, and hadn’t had even a glass of wine since November, but he’d be hard pressed to admit that it really has been calming down his headaches. He’s trying everything he can to keep her, but tonight, he’s never felt so close to losing her as he watches her shmooze out a path for her future. Steve excuses himself from her side, and while she shoots him a questioning look, she’s quickly folded back into a conversation about something called transcortical sensory aphasia. He sulks over to the bar, and for the first time in a month, he orders a drink.

…

She only catches a glimpse of Steve out of the corner of her eye, her stomach drops when she sees that he’s at the bar. She nearly excuses herself from the small group that’s collected around her, but just then someone blocks her view of Steve. The man is tall, in a smart, navy-blue suit, dark curly hair and a crooked grin as he holds out his hand to her.

“So you must be the one everybody’s talking about. Pleasure to finally meet you, I’m Thomas Klein. I’m one of the–” She cuts him off, eyes wide.

“Oh! I know who you are. You’re the doctoral candidate doing research with Professor Malcolm– it’s fascinating stuff you’re working on, really.” She’s completely embarrassed by her outburst, but the man seems to take it in stride, raising an eyebrow at her and smiling. The truth was, everyone in the department was talking about Thomas and his groundbreaking work looking at language circuitry. He was sure to be published by the end of the year and receive his degree in one fell swoop. He was practically a celebrity amongst the neuro students.

“Well, I’m flattered that the golden girl of the neuro department has heard of me. And I’m not only a doctoral candidate, you know. I also happen to be on the admissions board for the graduate program.” She smiled brightly, shaking his hand back.

“I wasn’t aware of that, congratulations, that’s a huge responsibility I’m sure.” She absolutely had been aware of it, and had been hoping to talk to this man tonight in fact. But he didn’t need to know that.

“It certainly is. But students like you make my job easy.” Her heart jumps in her throat at his words. She had applied to several graduate programs, but she wanted so badly to stay at IU to continue her studies. She told herself it was because the supervising professors were doing research in the areas she was interested in, but deep down she knew a large part of it was wanting to stay close to Steve. She grins at Thomas and he offers her his arm.

“I think we’re getting ready to sit down for dinner, I’d love to hear more about your research proposal. May I take you to your seat?” She nods, loosely taking his elbow as they walk over to the table. She glances briefly over her shoulder, trying to find Steve in the crowd, but Thomas once again draws her attention away as he begins asking her questions about her area of study.

…

Steve’s had two tumblers of whiskey, but when he sees some guy putting his hand on her low back and walking her over to the banquet table, something burns harder inside him than booze ever could. He takes his glass with him, pressing up off the bar and stalking through the crowd. He sees red as he watches the man pull out her seat for her, his head filling with static at the way she smiles at him as she sits down. The man takes the seat on her right and Steve is quick to slide in on her left. The fire licking up his spine is soothed for a moment as she turns and smiles at him. He brings his arm to rest on the back of her chair, shifting to turn slightly toward her. Her eyes dart to the table where his other hand is resting around his glass, the ghost of a frown pulling at her lips that she’s quick to hide.

“Hi, Stevie. Let me introduce you to Thomas Klein. He’s an admissions fellow for the doctorate program here.” Steve tries to stretch a tight-lipped smile across his face, nodding at the man, Thomas Klein, who holds out his hand for Steve to shake. He’s quick to take his hand away from the brisk squeeze, settling it back around his glass.

“You must be the firefighter boyfriend. I just think that’s great that you serve our city like that. Hats off to you, man.” Steve’s fingers flex around his glass. He glances at her before settling his gaze on the man who’s offering him a grin he’d like to wipe clean off his face.

“Thanks, yeah, it’s, uh, it’s good work.” Thomas doesn’t seem too interested in hearing anything else he has to say, focusing his sights back on her.

“So, you were just starting to tell me about your research proposal.” He glances at Steve before continuing, “has she told you about this?” Steve’s jaw ticks, he shakes his head. She never talked about grad school stuff with him. She brings her hand to the top of Steve’s thigh, squeezing lightly.

“Well, I’d like to look at neuronal changes and regeneration in concussion patients.” Steve feels his stomach drop. He’s not really listening anymore, static once again in his mind, the voices around him a low hum in his ears. The only thing he can really think about is what Eddie had said a few weeks back to her.

“Is that why you’re with Steve? Are you running experiments on him?”

He tosses back the rest of his drink, craning his neck to find a waiter to signal for a top-up.

…

She has Thomas practically eating out of her hand over dinner as he gushes about her work. Steve, however, is a different story. She’s been trying to keep track of how many times he’s had that glass refilled, but she’s lost count as she struggles to keep a worried eye on him while also presenting herself well to a group of people who could literally hold her future in their hands.

He’s sulking, she knows this look well, and she figures it’s his all too familiar jealousy creeping in from the way he’s openly glaring at Thomas. Quite frankly, she’s starting to get pissed that he’s acting this way when she’s on cloud nine at how well this night is going for her. She keeps her hand on his thigh, checking in with light squeezes every now and then, but Steve is unmoveable in his brooding stupor. The only sign of acknowledgement she gets is his hand that’s draped over her chair brushing her arm from time to time. She’s realizing that he must be really drunk to be so quiet. She had learned early on that drunk Steve ran a spectrum. It was at about a moderate drunkenness that he got loud and violent, but she actually preferred that to this stage, the point where Steve had gotten enough drink in him to go practically catatonic.

“So Steve, what do you think about all of this one’s amazing work?” Thomas has turned his attention back on him. Steve tilts his head back a bit, eyeing Thomas. She winces at the low grumble of his voice. Yeah, he is really drunk.

“Well I guess it’s all a bit over my head. But it’s certainly something else.” She doesn’t have time to cringe at his words, not when he’s leaning in and planting an unpleasantly wet kiss on her cheek that she tries not to flinch away from. Steve huffs, slumping back in his seat. She’s scared to see Thomas’ reaction, but he appears unphased by it, maybe just interpreting it as a sweet moment of affection. But she knows better. That wasn’t affection. That was a reminder of a claim. Steve seems done with the interaction, but Thomas isn’t quite finished.

“Have you ever thought about going back to school yourself?” She takes a sharp inhale, her shoulders tensing at his question. She’s afraid to even see what Steve’s expression is now.

“You know, Thomas. I really haven’t. Probably couldn’t hack it with the likes of you.” Thomas laughs, but she’s horrified.

“Steve.” He just huffs, raising his hand to flag another waiter down to fill up his glass. She grabs his wrist and presses it back down on the table. He glares at her, but she’s too upset to care. When she speaks, it’s a hushed whisper. She hates how much like her mom she sounds.

“You’ve had enough for the night. I think you oughta just go lay down. I’ll be up later.” His eyes flash, something that she thinks could be hurt, but it’s gone just as quick and he scoffs, shaking his head. He slowly gets up from his seat, letting his hand linger heavy on her shoulder before he turns and shuffles out of the banquet hall. She knows it could have been worse, that Steve could have made a scene like he used to when they first started dating. She really thought they had worked past that. Obviously not.

…

When Steve gets back up to the hotel room, he promptly keels over the toilet, emptying the contents of his stomach as his head starts to pound. He rests his forehead against the cool porcelain, letting out a garbled groan. His mind is a swirling flash of words and images. What Eddie had said, the way she was smiling at Thomas, and the way she looked at him when she told him to leave. Perhaps mercifully, it wasn’t long before his thoughts were silenced by the sweet slip of sleep that tugged him under, slumping him down splayed on the bathroom floor.

…

The party went late, much later than she expected. But, it was a huge success. She gets onto the elevator with two offers from supervising professors to pick up her research proposal, as well as a shining recommendation from Thomas for the graduate program. She can’t help but smile to herself, heels in her hand, as she rides up to her hotel room floor. However, the minute the doors open, her stomach sinks as she’s reminded of what, or who, is waiting for her down the hall. She sighs as she unlocks the door, rolling her shoulders back and bracing for whatever mess she’s about to walk into.

She’s surprised to find him sitting in an armchair, his back to her as he seems to be looking out of the floor-to-ceiling windows. She drops her heels with a soft thud that he doesn’t turn his head to acknowledge. When he speaks his voice is hoarse, but clearly sobered up. His casual tone scares her more than his shouting ever could.

“How was the rest of your night?” She quietly pads over to stand in front of him. He keeps his gaze firmly on the horizon, not even glancing her way.

“I-it was really good actually. I think they’re gonna take me on next year.” He sniffs.

“So am I gonna have to come into your little lab? Or have you already gotten what you need from me?” She’s shocked by his words. She hadn’t even considered that this was what he got so upset about. While he had made it clear he didn’t want anyone digging around in his head, she thought he’d at least be proud that she wanted to study something that so clearly affected him. That had clearly been a mistake on her part. She sighs, kneeling down next to his chair. She tries to take his hand in hers, but he jerks his arm away, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Steve, that isn’t what my research is about.” He finally looks at her, an angry glare that makes her heart jolt.

“Oh, it’s not? You can honestly tell me that you didn’t decide to study concussions because you’ve seen how fucked up I am? You’re not just trying to figure out why your boyfriend is such a fucking freak?” She rapidly shakes her head no, going to reach for him but thinking better of it, instead wringing her hands in her lap.

“That’s not it at all. Steve, I– I’m inspired by you– by your resilience.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes but she presses on.

“It’s true! I don’t think you’re a freak, Steve. I think you’re amazing. I only know a sliver of what you’ve been through– but the way that you keep going, keep trying? That’s why I want to do this work. That’s what I want to understand. How the human brain–”

“You know, I’ve heard enough talk about the human brain to last me a lifetime tonight.” She presses her lips in a thin line, feeling a prickly heat creeping up her throat, a combination of tears and her resurfacing anger. She lets out a bitter laugh that finally gets him to look at her again, obviously taken aback by the sudden shift.

“Why can’t you just be fucking happy for me? Goddamnit!” The volume of her voice surprises even her, but clearly not as much as it does Steve, whose brows have shot up his forehead, mouth agape. She’s practically seething as she glares at him, her fists clenched in her lap.

“Do you even care that I basically just got into grad school? Do you even care that I worked my ass off to get in at IU? Do you know why I did that, Steve?” He swallows hard.

“It was so I could stay close to you! You fucking asshole–”

“Did you fuck him?” She chokes on her words, face crumpling in confusion.

“What? Who are you even talking about?” They’re both standing now, pressing into each other’s space. Steve sneers.

“Oh, I think you know who I’m talking about, sweetie. You only had him practically up your skirt the whole dinner.” She scoffs.

“Are you seriously gonna do this? Is it that hard to believe that I’m getting in on merit alone? Is that how little you think of me?” His eyes are cold but his grin is wicked.

“Well, you’ve always been such a little slut for me. Not too hard to imagine you’re sharing the love with doctor dipshit.” It’s hard to fight with Steve, mostly because it seems like his anger never wavers. And he always fights dirty. But she on the other hand is already feeling the flames fizzle out into tears at his cruel words. She shrinks back from him, scrubbing harshly at her eyes.

“Fuck you, Steve. Just– fuck you.” She goes to walk away from him, but he grabs her arm, spinning her around and shoving her up against the window, his other hand pressing into her hip as she lets out a gasp.

“What’d I tell you, huh? You don’t fucking walk away from me.” She shudders under his hard gaze.

“I’m not in the mood for this bullshit.” In a flash, his palm is splayed on her throat, fingers just digging in under her jaw and making her heave.

“See, I don’t believe that, doll. I’d bet all of Thomas Klein’s brain cells that you’re soaking your panties right now. I know you. And I know you like a fight.” She can’t respond, can’t even think with the way his grip on her throat is pressing in closer and closer until it’s all she can do to take quick gasps of breaths. Just as dark spots start to muddle her vision, he lets go and she slumps into his grip, coughing on ragged inhales. All she can focus on is the dark chuckle vibrating in his chest and the tears that are now dripping down her face. Steve’s palms drag down her thighs, rucking up the skirt of her dress before letting it fall back in place, squeezing at the swell of her hips.

“Such a pretty dress, doll. Who’d you dress up for tonight, hmm? Wanted to look nice and proper for all your colleagues?” Her head is still reeling as she presses back up against the cool glass. Steve drags his hands up, harshly squeezing at her breasts before skimming along the dipping neckline of her dress. His gentle touch is a stark contrast to the way he grabs the neckline and rips it straight down the middle, tearing the fabric right down to her navel. She gasps in shock at his action, a pure knife of despair twisting deep in her belly.

She goes to speak, or even push him away, but he’s already overwhelming her again as he shoves two of his fingers into her mouth, making her choke at the way he presses down on her tongue.

“Little slut like you doesn’t need a dress like this, isn’t that right?” He’s a barrage of hands that she can’t cut through as he takes his fingers from her mouth and immediately bunches her skirt up, shoving his hand down the front of her panties and roughly dipping inside her. She hates the satisfied look on his face, but can’t deny the pleasure that instantly runs up her spine.

“Ah, baby, I guess I was right. You feel how wet you are for me? Do you hear it?” She does, the squelching of his fingers as he thrusts up inside her ringing in her ears. They’ve always walked a fine line between play and pain, a line often blurred by high tempers. But she’s never seen this look in his eyes. It’s cold, almost vacant, and it makes her shudder in his hold.

He’s ruthless as he fucks her with his fingers, all but taking her breath away to the point that she can only meekly gasp out his name a few times before he’s painfully pushing her over the edge of pleasure, a broken sob racking her body as she spasms around his fingers. He laughs in her ear before pulling her by her hips over to the bed and roughly jostling her down onto the mattress, pinning her down with his own hips.

“Steve, please. Will you look at me? Just stop for a second.” He pauses in his movements, his arms framing her head as he meets her gaze for an instant, but he’s gone in a flash, eyes glazing over.

“Tell me, baby. How does Thomas like it?” He sits back on his haunches, quickly shucking off his shirt and unfastening his pants. He pulls out his cock, fisting himself as he hovers back over her. She’s fully dropped into that space only Steve can send her to, and whatever was left of her anger has simmered out to a cool submission.

“There’s no one else, Steve. I-I’m not fucking anyone else. It’s just you– I s-swear.” She’s a sobbing mess of pleas, trying to snap Steve out of wherever he’s gone to, but as he lines himself up with her entrance, he brings his hand back to her throat, cutting off her whimpers as he thrusts into her hard, his hips bruising into hers.

“If you’re so fucking smart you should be able to follow some fucking directions. So shut up and take it.” He’s ruthless, relentless in the pace he sets, the hard slap of skin against skin getting drowned by her choked cries. She digs her nails into his chest, uselessly trying to push him away, create some kind of distance from the way he’s caging her in.

“Fuck, baby– such a good little pussy– always so wet for me, huh?” He won’t let up on her throat, the heel of his palm digging into her windpipe. It’s different from anything he’s done before. Steve can be aggressive, violent even, but when it’s with her, it’s always been calculated, always checking in with her, taking care of her afterwards. Many of their arguments would devolve into harsh fucking, it was the only way they could both simmer their quick tempers enough to be able to actually talk. This isn’t that, and she’s starting to panic. With the way she’s gasping for air, she does the only thing she can think of in this foggy state.

“Red.” She chokes it out, but he doesn’t even acknowledge she speaks, his eyes fixed on where his hips are continuously mashing into hers. She manages to drag one of her hands into his hair, tugging harshly.

“Red– Steve– red.” His eyes finally snap to hers, features immediately slackening. He quickly removes his hand from her throat, sitting back as she scrambles up the bed to curl in on herself against the headboard. All she can do for a moment is take big, gasping breaths, trying to slow down her pounding heart. She yelps when he reaches out for her ankle, skittering further back into the headboard and away from his touch.

“B-baby?” His eyes are wide, searching. She got to see a patient wake up from a coma last month at the university hospital. That’s what she thinks he looks like right now, like he’s not sure how he got here or where he just was. He goes to reach for her again but she stumbles off the bed, pressing up against the wall as she scurries over to her bag. She quickly rifles through the clothes she packed, tugging a sweatshirt down over the torn top of her dress. Steve stands from the bed, shuffling towards her.

“I’m sorry, baby. P-please, I’m sorry– I don’t know what happened–”

“Don’t fucking touch me.” His face crumples at her words, causing him to still, but she tries not to get stuck on the sight, quickly turning back to shove the rest of her stuff into her bag.

“A-are you alright?” Her hands still, save for the tremble still running through her fingers.

“No, Steve. I’m not fucking alright.” She slings her back over her shoulder, sliding her heels back onto her feet and heading towards the door.

“Wait! You can’t leave, baby. Please– I’ll make it better– I swear–” She turns on her heel fixing him with a hard look that makes him hiccup.

“You can’t make this better, Steve. I– I’m done.” He takes a step toward her, but seems to think better of it, dragging his hands through his hair like he’s in agony.

“Y-you can’t be done– I need you– you promised you wouldn’t leave.” She grimaces, scrunching her eyes shut before finally looking at him again. For a moment, she wants to give in, seeing the tears streaming down his cheeks for the first time. But instead she just shakes her head.

“We promised each other a lot of things, Steve. Look where it got us. I’m done.”

…

Steve wakes up late the next morning on the floor. In a pile of torn sheets and ripped-up pillows. He squints around at the room. The bedside lamps have been smashed on the floor. The stock painting that was hung on the wall had been torn through, skewed over the carpet. Steve winces as he flexes his hands, looking down to see a smear of blood and scabs across his knuckles. He glances back around, confirming what he assumed when he sees the perfect hole punched through one wall.

He doesn’t care. Not about any of it. The only thing going through his mind is the image of her walking out that door. That, and how, for the first time, maybe ever, he had sobbed so hard he thought he’d break into pieces.

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