#behave in the notes or else ill turn off reblogs. i am not in the mood for shit.

[theforesteldritch]

It's really fucked that when I google 'intersex' the news articles that come out are all mocking the US gov recognizing intersex awareness day. Calling us 'frankensteins' 'sick in the head' 'defective genetic fuck ups'. I saw a completely batshit conspiracy theory that the US government 'created' intersex people a few decades ago to 'attack traditional values' or something. Forget about all of us who don't live in the US, forget about the historical records of intersex people, to the point where we could test DNA from prehistoric skeletons preserved a certain way and could find that they're intersex. They keep going. They say, someone 'needs to step in and study how these get passed down so these people don't reproduce'. Just literal fucking eugenics. Even beyond their hatred, their intersexism, their transphobia, it makes me even more sick to my stomach is that none of the facts, none of our history matters. They're not just uninformed, they don't give a shit. And the reason, the fucking reason people were losing their shit over the fact that the US state department recognized that we exist, is that they they think that all of the US government's attention should apparently be to supporting Isreal bombing and killing thousands of innocent Palestinian civilians. They want nothing but killing and bloodshed and violence and death and apparently the acknowledgement of intersex existence is too much of a fucking distraction for them from their fucking need for violence. And even if they wanted something else, something harmless, a government agency puts out a TWO PARAGRAPH STATEMENT and they think it will fucking shut other things down. And while recognition is nice, the bar is so fucking low that saying 'hey these people exist. they deserve rights' about intersex people is a FIRST, and people think that two fucking paragraphs is too much. I feel sick and angry. People want death and killing and violence and to fucking cheer over the killing of innocent people over TWO FUCKING PARAGRAPHS that say I exist and am a person.

[shimakaze-revivalism]

alright.

i made dawn's acquaintance shortly before leaving on a trip to visit my longtime girlfriend sybil and my girlfriend jackie, who at the time i'd known for less than two months. i had been very isolated, both before this time and during it. at sybil’s prompting, i had recently joined a server run by bryn, the first community i had been a part of in a very long time. i met jackie there, and she had been the first person i'd talked to at length besides sybil for about two years. i first messaged dawn to clarify something i'd seen her say:

"Which deaths matter: Those killed by their partners, or those dying alone in garages full of carbon monoxide, with nooses around their necks, with excess drugs in their systems?

Of course all kinds of transfeminine people are at risk of both kinds of death, but we know that the proportions between demographics differ. We also know who makes the news and who dies alone."

this was a patently ridiculous thing to say. i knew that at the time, and her noncommittal yet revealing explanations further confirmed it. she went on to map out her trans-lesbianism-moralizing stance, implicitly, evasively equating nonwhite death by transmisogynistic violence with white transmisogyny-fuelled suicide, blah blah. i let it pass, valuing interpersonal civility as i did at the time, and hoping to make friends by default.

i mention this because it would set the tone for our dealings from then on.

we developed a fairly active friendship. beginning from early on in our relationship, dawn took great care to emphasize the existential gulf between our embodiments, never quite laying it bare, but making it clear that she was uniquely disadvantaged as compared to myself, who was, in turn, uniquely privileged over her. i should state plainly and crudely for clarity's sake that i am a mentally ill chinese trans woman dropout, who was, at the time, underweight and extremely isolated. i would continue to be those things, sometimes increasingly, throughout the course of our relationship. dawn is white and transfeminine.

also beginning from early on in our relationship was her insistence that i never make reference to jackie's and my relationship, which she also applied to jackie. this was enforced through negative reaction (harshly scolding me, blocking me for days, then acting as if nothing had happened). this was, ostensibly, due to her unreciprocated desire for jackie to be her girlfriend. i would say that it is a very irresponsible rule to impose upon someone who spoke regularly to 3 people in the world. it's worth noting that dawn did not impose this same rule upon bryn regarding her relationship with jackie, for reasons unclear to me.

dawn would often voice her grievances with jackie; her erratic availability for commitments, irregular response times to messages, refusal to enter into a codified romantic relationship; once, the fact that jackie had failed to do something sexual when dawn wanted her to. my girlfriend became an entity i couldn't fawn over, save for platonically, but one who i must always be ready to accept criticism of. you can imagine that this was not conducive to the honeymoon period of a young relationship, not that i would fault dawn for this particular action, in isolation.

along the way, i started wanting a codified romantic relationship with dawn. this made it difficult for me when dawn would constantly talk about how attractive various people in her life were and how virtuously they conducted themselves interpersonally and sexually. of course these are natural and normally innocuous things to talk about, but the frequency was very high, often coincided with vulnerable periods for me, and often felt pointed. once i said something to dawn about how i cared about her and was worried that i was a diversion to her. she chose to tell me that she had just got done having the same conversation with someone else.

dawn bemoaned her lack of partner(s). the fact that i was partnered, as most of her friends were, was something i was made to feel a lot of guilt over. my relationship status was one of the things that she made clear set us apart, made us unequal. i heavily internalised the message: dawn was a traumatized, mentally ill, isolated, alienated, pitiable girl (and i wasn't).

in july of 2019, i had been flippant about the difficulty for the game master in balancing the mechanics of the tabletop rpg monster of the week, and responded excessively flippantly to her explanations. (consulting the logs to write this post filled me with anger on behalf of the girl that i was at the time; an anger she didn’t know she was entitled to). i won’t claim that it wasn’t wrong for me to behave that way, i will just say that i apologised as soon as she expressed that i had upset her. she took the chance to re-emphasize how i was a hurtful, maladjusted person, and responded to my apology by once again defining me into the category that her abusers and oppressors occupied. 

two weeks after that, i was in the middle of an involved babysitting session which i couldn't feasibly take a break from when dawn told me that she had decided to sever ties. we had a short, nominally-civil discussion. i swallowed everything, apologized to the end for whatever infinite wrongdoing i was guilty of. i couldn't process what was happening quickly enough. before i could absorb it, we'd said goodbye and i had been rather unceremoniously blocked on discord. i needed so badly to cry, to scream and clutch myself. but, like i said, babysitting. less than 3 hours after this happened, after I'd had some time to myself to absorb it, i sent her a single tumblr ask; a parting shot that i’d been denied. a desperate, manic attempt to feel real, to feel like i was my own person, she would smugly make her smoking gun of my boundary violating behaviour. that was the last i ever contacted her. 

after her severing ties, my isolation was heightened, particularly within the shared space of bryn’s server. i stopped participating, and soon left. how could i act normally and joke about video games when i shared a space with someone i wasn’t supposed to be around? would it be a violation of boundaries to riff off something she said? to express affection for my girlfriend who she still talked to? and what was the point? i didn’t know anyone else particularly well, and these were some of the women who i was so much less interesting and virtuous than. 

i never talked about dawn to anyone besides sybil or jackie until now, when she made a post featuring screenshots of my blog and then publicizing my 8 month old tumblr ask. such was the extent of my poisoning her friends against her. bryn and her girlfriend took issue with dawn’s mistreatment of them for reasons entirely separate from myself, and certainly not at my prompting.

for my part, seeing friends of jackie’s reblog from dawn and seeing them in the notes of her posts about me has been intensely paranoia-inducing, primarily due to the escalating severity and danger of the charges that she began to lay against me in these posts.

that’s about it. thanks.

--

tldr, dawn is a white transfem and i’m a chinese transfem. we were both very isolated and new to bryn’s server, began a friendship during which she positioned me as being essentially different and more privileged than her, grouped me with her oppressors and abusers, and undermined my relationships, including with my girlfriend who i’d only recently met. after the relationship ended, she effectively barred me from the only community i had, and later started alluding to me being a predator.

also check out these excerpts, both from the same post she made:

[theonlyjelly-iwillput-inmybelly]

Escapade-Chapter Three

A/N: Hiya nerds, it’s ya boi Cole, this time with Chapter THREEEEE (3)! This chapter is the first in the story to feature some Logicality, so I hope y’all are hype because I SURE AM.

You can read... 

The fic in its entirety on my AO3 (the link will take you to the beginning of the story) 

Chapter One on my Tumblr (this will take you to Chapter One only) 

Chapter Two on my Tumblr (this will take you to Chapter Two only)

Thank you so much you nerds goddamnit you’re great

Please let me know through a comment, reblog, or message if you want to be added to the taglist! Chapter Four is scheduled to be posted on Monday. Reblogs spread the angst

Tagging people at the end. If I forgot your name, PLEASE TELL ME 

As Roman had been galloping across his kingdom thinking of nothing in particular, the rest of the Sides were having a very quiet meal in the mind palace commons. Their thoughts were all focused on the Prince in one way or another. Conspicuous only by his absence at the head of the table, the sides kept casting glances to his throne-like chair whenever they made small attempts at conversation.

Patton peered at the two other sides, one of whom was naturally sullen and the other of whom was being unusually silent. He watched with mounting concern as Virgil merely swirled his fork in his spaghetti, his cheek resting on his hand and his mouth turned down in a scowl, and as Logan merely nibbled on his pasta, his expression suggesting his mind was quite obviously somewhere else. Every once in awhile, his brows furrowed in what Virgil called his ‘recalculating’ face, an expression that was characteristic of the side’s train of thought being derailed.

Patton decided to lighten up the moment. “Well, I’m sure the spaghetti isn’t that bad, kiddos!” he lightly chided, causing Virgil to jump and Logan to recalculate.

Virgil sighed, and pushed his plate away. “Sorry...I’m not really hungry.”

“I find that I’m also having difficulty focusing on eating when I’m finding my thoughts straying towards the safety and wellbeing of Roman,” Logan said monotonously, taking a small bite anyway just to please the moral side.

Virgil seemed to loosen. “You’re worried about Roman?” he asked. While his question sounded slightly scorning, Patton and Logan both knew it concealed Virgil’s relief at not being the only one worrying.  

“We both are, kiddo.” Patton replied, watching Virgil closely.

The anxious side swallowed thickly, not making any eye contact. However, he spoke up, his tone tentative. “...I-I...I thought I was being stupid, worrying about him...even though he’s only just gone.”

Logan and Patton exchanged startled glances. It was rare for Virgil to open up about what he was really feeling; he usually cracked an inappropriate joke or behaved in some other crude manner whenever he was experiencing an unpleasant emotion.

“It is not stupid to worry about his wellbeing, Virgil,” Logan said, “He is a part of this family. And after all, I guess it can be argued that I, too, am worried, and I generally do not participate in stupid activities. You can reassured by that fact.”

“Thanks...I guess,” Virgil grumbled, frowning but raising his eyebrows at Patton, who looked proud at Logan’s attempt to be reassuring.

Logan nodded. “It is also perfectly natural for you especially to be... disturbed by Roman’s absence. As your mate, it would be rather surprising and suggestive of ill emotion if you were not worrying about him, or missing him.”  he added.

Patton winced; Virgil was still very touchy about discussing his newfound relationship with Roman with the other two. He quickly intervened before Virgil could flip up his hood and sink out of the room.

“What he means, kiddo, is that it’s OK to be sad. It’s OK to worry too, because...well…”

He had wanted to finish his sentence by saying he could be in trouble, but he could not bring himself to say it.

“Because he could be in danger.” Virgil finished for him, his voice flat.

“Well, yeah.” Patton said sheepishly, “I guess I didn’t have the heart to say that, though. Eh? Eh? ” he said, elbowing Logan until the logical side gave a mechanical laugh that had an undertone suggestive of a desire to enter the next life.

Virgil flipped up his hood, and hunched his shoulders.

“Roman will be fine, Verge,” Patton said quietly, reaching across the table to gently pat Virgil’s bowed head. Logan pulled a skeptical expression, and Patton ferociously leveled a glare at him.

“I agree, Virgil,” Logan said quickly to appease Patton, his voice as monotone as ever if only a tiny bit strained, “Roman knows how to handle himself, and he knows the terrain.”

Virgil was not really listening. Tears were forming in his eyes, and his heart was racing with the uncomfortable speed of an impending panic attack. His lungs felt tight, and his fingers and nose began to tingle with the onset of hyperventilation.

But suddenly, Virgil could feel a gentle pull deep in his mind. He listened hard, and heard a strong, steady heartbeat. A warm, tender aura of protectiveness and reassurance seemed to emanate from his brain to the rest of his body. He could feel the ghosts of Roman’s arms around his waist, and he could hear him taking deep calming breaths. Roman was trying to tell him that he was, and was going to be, alright. The worry in Virgil’s chest was gradually replaced with a knot of aching yet pleasant sorrow.

Roman couldn't have chose a better time to be reassuring, for Virgil found himself instantly calming down. He sighed deeply, feeling returning to his fingers and his nose. He suddenly felt deeply exhausted.

“Yeah,” he said, looking up at the other two with a sad expression, “he will be okay.”

With this, he rose, and cleared away his dishes. Without another word, he went down the hallway and into his room. Logan and Patton listened as his door clicked gently shut.

There was a heavy silence at the table as Logan and Patton continued to gaze at the spot where Virgil had disappeared. Patton released a heavy sigh, and his comforting smile was replaced with a dejected frown.

“I think it would be unwise to remain so... optimistic about Roman’s overall chances of returning from his venture unscathed, Patton.” Logan murmured quietly, turning to look at Patton with heavy eyes.

Patton rose, and quietly began to gather up his dishes. “I know, Lo. But what am I going to say to him?” he said, gesturing limply to where the anxious side had disappeared, “He’s so fragile already.”

Patton placed his dishes in the sink and began wiping the counters, unable to look at Logan for fear of breaking down with all of his worry. He heard Logan rising, a rush of water from the tap suggesting he was rinsing off his dishes.  

“I suppose the wisest course of action would be to conceal our true thoughts on the matter from him, and try to convince him that our false optimistic words and actions are genuine,” Logan said quietly, causing Patton to turn around and see him wringing his hands through a dish towel, his mouth a thin line.

Patton grinned. “You’re learning,” he said, leaning up to quickly peck the logical side on the cheek, “And I’m proud of you for the way you acted towards him earlier.”

The corner of Logan’s mouth twitched. “It was a little difficult, concealing my take on the manner, but I have taken to studying psychology lately so that I may better be able to interact with him should he be feeling mentally or emotionally ill.”

Patton broke out into a huge grin. “This is why you’re my hero.”

Logan smiled.

Meanwhile, back in his room, Virgil was listening intently to Roman’s heartbeat. He wondered whether Roman had found the note he had snuck into the care package, and whether or not he was cold, or scared, or lonely. Despite Logan and Patton’s kind words, he found himself being gripped once again by an anxiety attack. His heart beat uncomfortably fast, and skipped beats. He let out a whimper, and began to dread the long night ahead of him.

But before he could even begin to take calming breaths, a sudden wave of intense warmth and gratitude swept over him. The goosebumps on his arms vanished.  Blinking, he sat up, rubbing his arms to alleviate the sudden, unknown feeling. Was he experiencing a mood swing? No; he could feel Roman’s heartbeat without even focusing, and suddenly he knew that it was Roman that was making him feel this way.

Virgil smiled, and knew Roman had found his gift.

And with the warm sound of Roman’s heartbeat in his mind, he was able to lay down and calmly try to sleep.

Try was the key word. He found it hard to sleep when he felt the cold, empty space beside him.

Taglist:

@celiawhatsherlastname @monikastec @jordandobbertin @greymane902​ @lostgirlgwen @kittenvirgil @iamahumanwaitnothatsalie @logan-logic @jet-black-hearted-girl @gay-ace-trash @shadowjag @thestoryoferissur @lexboydfandompanda

@randomficsandthoughts you didn’t ask to be added to the taglist but you seemed pretty enthusiastic about chapter two so I’ll tag you just in case you want to keep reading???

[abbygkane]

Please tell me we didn’t have sex last night (3/4)

You can read the first part here, and the second part here

So because I originally promised to update this a couple of days ago, you’re getting a slightly longer chapter! You’re welcome ;) Thanks for everyone who liked/reblogged and commented, I love all of you! 

After finishing her shower and drying herself off, Abby feels much better. Her headache is reduced to a minor throbbing and her nausea is nearly gone. Entering her bedroom, she quickly puts on some underwear, a pair of leggings and a baggy sweatshirt. Marcus’ shirt is still lying on the bathroom floor and after debating for a couple of seconds she picks it up and throws it in the laundry basket. They might not have parted on the best of terms, but Marcus did take care of her while she was being ill, so washing his T-shirt was the least she could do. She might not be brave enough to drop it off herself, but she could always ask Thelonius to make sure Marcus got it back, they were friends after all.

Abby’s just about to turn on her laptop to go over some notes when a noise and a muttered curse from outside her bedroom makes her freeze.

There was someone in her apartment

Feeling a slight panic attack coming up, Abby glances around her room, looking for her phone. When she doesn’t immediately find it, she starts to search her room for something she could use to defend herself. Her gaze lands on her bedside lamp and she quickly unplugs it before picking it up.  

Quietly opening the door, Abby makes her way to the kitchen, adrenaline coursing through her veins only to abruptly come to a halt when while rounding the corner she comes face to face, or rather face to back, with none other than Marcus.

Wait, what? What is he still doing here? And is he making breakfast?

Apparently, after leaving her place he came back because here he is, standing in her kitchen, wearing only a pair of jeans and his shoes while preparing, by the smell of it, French toast.

How did he know that she loved French toast?

Abby realises she’s standing in the middle of her hallway, holding an unplugged lamp above her head as if she could strike any minute, looking entirely ridiculous while wordlessly staring at the naked back of Marcus Kane. 

And boy was that a sight for sore eyes.

She briefly blushes at the sight of several nail marks on his back, did she seriously leave marks all over his body,  before clearing her throat.  

“Marcus?”

Abby observes how his body briefly tenses up, before relaxing and she can’t help but admire the way the muscles in his back flex.

Marcus slowly turns around with a bashful look on his face, only for a frown to take its place when he notices the lamp she’s holding in her hand.

“What’s with the lamp?”, he asks, looking entirely confused. 

“I thought you left and that there was an intruder”, she explains.  

“Oh, I uhm-”, Marcus mutters before turning around so he could turn off the stove before facing her again, “I did leave, but only to buy some ingredients you didn’t have.“

“Ingredients?”, Abby repeats while putting the lamp down. 

“Yes, to make French toast. I did promise to make you my recipe”, he nonchalantly clarifies, as if that should be obvious. 

“You did?”

“Yes, last night. You don’t remember?” , he slowly says, still looking a bit confused.

“Are you alright?”, Marcus continues as he takes a step in her direction, his eyes flickering over her with worry audible his voice.

Abby gives him a small and hopeful reassuring nod, “I’m fine, but to be completely honest, I don’t really remember a lot from last night”

“Ah”, he exhales, and suddenly he looks less comfortable about standing in her kitchen, half-naked. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Uhm, well, it’s all a bit hazy”, she confesses, “I remember playing beer pong, Callie leaving and you coming up to me, calling me difficult”

“That’s all?”

“Yeah”, she admits, nervously biting her lower lip.

Marcus’s eyes go wide and his entire body just slumps down, and Abby can’t help but compare him to a puppy who lost his favourite toy.

“Then this –”, he gestures to himself and the food, “must be pretty confusing to you”

“It is”

He looks at her intently for a couple of seconds, before somberly giving her a small nod.

“Thought so. Right, well, I think it’s best if I just left then. The toast’s nearly done, I already cut the fruit and there’s a mug of ginger lemon tea on the table for you, which will help with your nausea”, he mutters quickly, avoiding all eye contact, “Have you seen my T-shirt?”

 “Uhm, yes, I put it in the laundry basket in my bedroom”, Abby replies, feeling bewildered by the turn the conversation has taken.

“Great. I’ll just go get it and then I’ll be out of your way”, he states while moving passed her.

Abby honestly doesn’t know why she reaches out and gently grabs his wrist, because the last thing she remembers from last night is arguing with him, and before the party she believed they mutually hated each other. But there was something in the way his body deflated when he realised she didn’t remember anything, something in his look of defeat, but acceptance when she had asked him to leave earlier, that prompts her to do so.

“No, Marcus wait please”, she softly utters, while closing her fingers around his wrist.

He snaps his head around so quickly that Abby’s surprised he doesn’t pull a muscle. His eyes briefly flicker to her face before settling on the sight of her hand that’s wrapped around his wrist.

“You went through all the trouble to make me breakfast. Why don’t you join me?”, she proposes, while subconsciously gently caressing his skin with her thumb.

“You sure?”, he asks, still sounding hesitant, but there’s a gleam of hopefulness in his eyes.

“Yes, besides you have apparently promised to make me breakfast and I might not remember a lot from last night, but I do know that you’re a man of your word”, she teasingly offers with a small smile.

“That I am”, Marcus admits with a smile of his own, “But I want you to know that I don’t want to intrude or anything. I mean I can –”

Abby swiftly cuts off his rambling by giving his wrist a light squeeze, “Marcus, I would like nothing more than if you stayed for breakfast”

The dazzling smile he bestows on her makes her extremely grateful and happy that she had stopped him from leaving.,

The fact that the same smile also makes her want to say, screw breakfast and drag him to her bedroom for more lascivious pursuits and this time she will definitely remember them, is something Abby doesn’t want to dwell on.

*last night*

“No way”, Abby exclaims with a giggle. 

“I assure you that’s exactly how it went”, Marcus promises in a very serious manner, but his eyes are twinkling with mirth.

 “Oh my god. I wish I could have seen the look on Thelonius’ face”, she laughs, shaking her head in amusement, while making herself more comfortable on the couch.

“Yeah, it was pretty hilarious”, he acknowledges, before taking another sip from his beer, “Do you want another one? Or perhaps something else?”, he asks, pointing at her drink.

“Uhm”, she quickly drains her bottle, “Something else please”

“Sure. Anything I shouldn’t get?”

“Perhaps no tequila. I feel like I already drank enough of it to last my whole lifetime”, Abby replies with a smirk.

Chuckling, Marcus rises from the couch, “No tequila it is. I know where Ben hides his whisky. You want some?”

“Oh, yes please”

“Kay, I’ll be right back”, he promises before disappearing into the crowd.

Abby watches him go with a small smile on her face. If anyone had told her she would be having a conversation with Marcus Kane without yelling and actually enjoying herself, she would have suggested they got their head checked out. But here she was, they had been talking for - she didn’t even know for how long - and she hadn’t once had the urge to punch him. Her eyes had strayed to his mouth more times than she was comfortable admitting to, but she had noticed his eyes wandering as well, so she’d say they were even.

And he also hadn’t been lying when he’d mentioned he could be pleasant. When he wasn’t bent on being an enormous jerk, Marcus could be amusing and even charming. The fact that he was handsome, didn’t hurt either.

While waiting for him to come back, Abby lets her gaze wander across the room. Everybody seems to be having a great time. Spotting someone from her year, she gives the girl a short wave when she can feel her phone buzz. Turning on the couch, so she’s sitting sideways on it with her right leg curled beneath her, she pulls her phone out of her pocket. Noticing that it’s a text from Callie, a smile appears on her face. 

Everything okay? x

Smiling at her friend’s concern, she promptly texts back. 

Yes. I’ve actually been talking to Marcus. You okay? x

She has barely pressed send when her phone buzzes again.

Ooooh, it’s Marcus now??? :D (and I’m fine) x

Rolling her eyes at her friend’s text, Abby types a reply.

Yeah, yeah. You were right. He isn’t that bad x

After a couple of seconds, she gets another text and when she notices that it’s in all caps Abby can’t help but laugh.

OMG STOP THE PRESSES ABBY WALTERS JUST ADMITTED THAT I, CALLIE CARTWIG WAS RIGHT ABOUT SOMETHING AND SHE WAS WRONG! THIS IS A MIRACLE. THIS DATE IS ONE FOR THE HISTORY BOOKS xx

Abby’s in the middle of typing a reply when Marcus returns with their new drinks. Acknowledging his presence with a warm smile she nods to her phone, “Gimme a second. I just need to reply Callie”

“Sure, no problem”, he replies before sitting down on the couch again, and Abby can’t help but notice that he’s sitting closer than before.

Yes, well you can gloat another time, Marcus is back from getting new drinks. Behave Cartwig x

Her friend immediately replies. 

Right back at ya Abs, I’m too young to become an aunt x

Putting the phone away, she accepts the cup with a smile.“Oh, wow, you’ve certainly been generous with the amount of whisky”, Abby comments after glancing into her cup.

Marcus merely shrugs, the same half-grin of before making a reappearance and just as before it makes her skin tingle.

“Yes, well, I couldn’t bring the bottle with me and I really didn’t feel like leaving you every couple of minutes for a refill”, he confesses while intently gazing at her.

Oh my god, Marcus Kane was flirting with her and goddamn he was good at it.

“Well”, Abby softly utters while shifting a little bit closer until their legs touch, “I like the way you think”

“Hmm, do you now?”, Marcus murmurs back, his eyes momentarily dropping to her mouth before focussing once more on her face, “That’s different”, he adds with a smirk.

“There’s a first time for everything”, she quips with a wink while leaning forward, realising that it would give Marcus another glimpse of her cleavage.

“There certainly is”, he gulps and Abby feels a thrill of excitement course through her at his obvious appreciation.

“How about we toast to that?”, she proposes and she has to bite on the inside of her cheek at the way Marcus has to tear away his gaze from her cleavage.

“Uhm”, he murmurs, a blush noticeable on his cheeks, “Sounds like a great idea”

How can somebody be so damn sexy yet adorable at the same time?

“Okay then”, Abby states before raising her cup, “To second chances”

Smiling, Marcus raises his cup as well, “To second chances.”

Abby has no idea how she ended up in Marcus’ lap, one minute they had been sitting close, talking about something and his hand had been gently running up and down her thigh and the next thing she knew, he had pulled her into his lap before devouring her mouth. But as she grabs a fistful of hair, she honestly doesn’t couldn’t care less and by the way he just moaned against her mouth, neither does Marcus.

As he slips his tongue past her lips, Abby tugs at his hair, pulling him even closer. The growl he emits in response makes her instinctively grind her hips against his. A move he eagerly welcomes, if the way his hands palm her bum in order to guide her movements is any indication to go by.

Pulling back when breathing becomes a necessity, a wave of arousal crashes over her at the sight of his swollen lips and tousled hair.

“You wanna come back to my place?”, she asks, feeling timid all of a sudden as if they weren’t basically dry-humping in the middle of a party a couple of seconds before.  

“Really?”

Abby can’t help but smirk at his baffled expression before pressing a quick kiss against his lips. “Yes, really”

When he doesn’t immediately respond, Abby can feel her cheeks redden from embarrassment.

“Oh god. You don’t want to. I’m so sorry”, she rushes the words out, while moving from his lap, only to fall back with a squeal when he pulls her back.

“Abby trust me when I say that there’s nothing I would rather want then to go back to your place. But I like and want you, Abby. And I don’t mean just physically. I mean, obviously physically as well because I’m sure you can feel just how badly I want you- ”, he smirks at her giggle, “but I also want more of this. More talking and getting to know each other. And I also would like to take you out on a date. Like a proper date. Not just drinking cheap whisky in cups while being surrounded by drunk college students. I mean, if that’s something you want. If you just want tonight, then I’m fine with that too, because to be honest, I’m already amazed that we actually kissed. So yeah –”, he trails off, looking slightly nervous.

Abby simply stares at him. She has been so blind these past two years. 

“Yes,” she exclaims, “I’d like to go on a date with you. A proper one. But not tonight. Now I just want you naked and on top of me. Or beneath me. I don’t care as long as we’re both naked and in my bed”, she continues with a smirk before kissing him again.

“God, Abby”, he moans against her mouth, “You’re driving me crazy”

Pulling back with a smirk, “Well, you’re doing a fine job of that as well. But let’s go. I just have to let Callie know that I’m leaving with you”, she says before slowly standing up from his lap.

It doesn’t take long before they’ve located Callie. Fingers intertwined they push through the crowd until they’re in front of her friend, who greets them with a smug and slightly drunk smile on her face. 

“Well hello there lovebirds. I’d ask what you two have been up to but by the sight of your rumpled clothes and swollen lips I have a pretty decent idea. You two leaving?”, Callie teases.

Marcus blushes under Callie’s knowing gaze, but he tightens his grip on her fingers and Abby throws him a comforting smile before turning her attention back to her friend.

“We are. We’re going back to my place. Do you have someone to escort you back home? Or are you crashing at Diana’s?”, she asks.

“Crashing at Diana’s”

“Okay, well, text me when you get there, don’t worry about the hour”, Abby states before wrapping her in a short and one armed hug.

“I will. You two have fun”, she replies with a wink before leaving.

Rolling her eyes at her friend’s retreating back, Abby tilts her head so she can look Marcus in his eyes.

“You ready?”

“Absolutely!”, he blurts out, causing her to giggle at his eagerness. 

Pressing one final kiss against his lips, they start to make their way towards the front door.