#hopefully it’s my last one of classes then I just have to finish my thesis over the summer

[astrxealis]

i am so exhausted i barely have anything to do for the rest of the school year as in. just a few more projects. and then done. but i'm already Finished af. anyway i hope you all are okay, take care okay <3

[candypop-snowdrop]

ough I am super sad about the upcoming semester

[leilakisakabiri]

request: Hi can you do where the reader is wearing Gavis hoodie and she accidentally stains it and starts freaking out. Thank uuu and i love ur writing

I Got You (Gavi)

Summary: You need Gavi to come help you after you get yourself into a bad situation.

Warning(s): None

A/N: Thank you so much for the request and for your support! Requests are open. Currently working on The Promises We Keep Pt 2. Also, guys if I haven't done your request yet, don't worry, it probably means it's gonna be a long one.

Word Count: 3.1k+

Masterlist

It was a Saturday night in Barcelona, and you were holed up in your room, feet tucked under you, a knitted blanket over your shoulders as you read over the words in front of you for the hundredth time.

While the city was alight with people getting drinks, dancing, and laughing, you silenced your phone, closed your blinds, and put your headphones on to quiet any outside noises. 

You had decided to stay in this weekend, caught up in writing an essay for your criminal law class that was worth 50% of your grade. Safe to say you did not take it lightly. You had been hunched over your computer for the last nine hours, brain numb and fingers aching as you had tried to come up with a thesis and strong argument for your essay. You had blocked out this weekend to finish the essay, letting everyone know ahead of time not to contact you unless it was an emergency, including Gavi. 

Gavi had been gone for the last couple of days, traveling around Europe for the last leg of La Liga, and he had been adamant about spending as much time with you as he could once he got back - before his summer schedule kicked off. However, that hope was quickly cut short when you informed him you most likely wouldn’t be able to see him at all this weekend due to you being stuck finishing your essay. 

Although he had tried to convince you to change your mind, bribing you with the idea of endless cuddles and then promising to be as silent as possible while you wrote when his first idea didn’t work, you relented, knowing that having him around would be a major distraction, one that you couldn’t afford. 

“I’m sorry Pablo I don’t think I can this weekend. What about Monday?” You asked hopefully. 

He sighed over the phone, his face pulling into a frown, “I can’t. We’re leaving Monday morning for France.”

You bit on your lip, feeling bad, “I’m sorry I just really need to focus this weekend.” 

He nodded, “I get it. It just sucks. I wanted to see you at least once before I’m gone again. But it’s fine – I’ll survive.” He replied dramatically. 

You grinned, “Well I’ll miss you Pablito.” 

“I already miss you.” 

The smile on your face only grew as your heart warmed at his words, “I’ll text you if anything changes. Have a great game, I’ll be watching.” 

He gave you a wink, “Damn gotta show off now that my girls watching.” 

You giggled at him, “Bye Pablo.” 

He mocked your tone playfully, “Bye Y/n.” 

That was last week, and now you were nose deep in your essay, textbooks scattered around you as you looked for possible quotes to strengthen your thesis. You had been so busy scanning the words on the page that you hadn’t noticed your phone buzzing non-stop next to you. 

Once you saw the glow of your phone screen curiosity got the better of you and you flipped it around seeing you had eight missed calls from your best friend. 

Your eyebrows knitted in confusion, it was almost two in the morning, she would for sure be at a club right now, happily dancing the night away with your friends, so why was she consistently calling you? 

The phone buzzed once again and this time you were quick to answer. 

“Hello, Gia, what’s going on?” 

Her voice was slurred on the other end, but you could sense the panic regardless, “Y/n? I don’t know where I am, I was with the others but then I went to the bathroom, and I then couldn’t find anyone anymore. And this guy won’t leave me alone-”

“Gia, where are you? I’ll come get you.” You cut off her rambling, already rushing to put on your shoes, essay long forgotten. 

She hiccupped, “I’m at Macarena. I’m sorry no one else answered.” 

“No, no problem at all. I’m coming right now, Gia. Don’t move. I’m glad you called.” You comforted her. 

The club was only a twenty-minute walk from your house, and seeing as you didn’t have a car or the time to wait for public transport, it was your best option. 

You cursed yourself for not answering sooner as you rushed to get your keys, grabbing a random hoodie on the way out. 

Although summer was beginning to creep into Barcelona, the nights were still chilly with cold winds rushing through the area. 

You sped through the streets, walking with purpose as you finally reached the club. You were severely underdressed for the club wearing a random hoodie and yoga pants. You saw the line for the club was still extremely long, wrapping around the corner and you knew you had no time to waste. 

You took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself, you were never one to break any rules or ask for any special favors, but now seemed like a good time to start. 

You walked up to the club bouncer, ignoring the nasty look the guy at the front of the queue was sending you, “Excuse me. I need to get in right away, my friend is inside alone, and I need to help her.” 

You heard the guy next to you scoff. 

The bouncer looked at you unimpressed. “Sorry sweetheart. You want to get to her, you have to wait in line.” 

You relented, “Sir please, just look at my outfit,” you said gesturing to yourself, “clearly, I’m not here to party, I just need to get my friend and leave. You can even come with me!” 

He gave you an apprehensive look, taking in your appearance, “I can’t leave my post.” 

You groaned, “Fine, then can someone else escort me? I can literally call her right now. She’s not in the right head space.” 

He squinted his eyes at you, “You look familiar.” 

It finally clicked. This is where you had gone with Gavi and his team, celebrating after they had won a final a few weeks ago. They had treated you like royalty, blocking off a whole section just for you, the club owner even making an appearance to congratulate the team.

You didn’t like to use the fact that you were dating a well-known athlete as a way to get special privileges but if it meant helping your friend then you would do it. 

“Yeah, I was in VIP a few weeks ago. I know the owner, so please let me in.”

“What’s his name?” 

You racked your brain trying to think of that night, “Santiago. It was Santiago!” You replied, finally remembering. 

The bouncer gave you a once over before he finally nodded begrudgingly, “Fine – but be quick.” 

You heard the other people in line begin to argue but you quickly thanked the bouncer, rushing inside, not wanting to wait long enough for him to change his mind. 

God bless Gavi.

The place was packed, bodies pressed together so closely that you had to squeeze in between heavily making out couples and groups of friends to make your way to the middle. The strobe lights were going crazy, changing every few seconds to the beat of the music. There was a DJ booth twenty feet above the crowd playing EDM Spanish music and the crowd was going insane, chanting along. 

You hit your head on your forehead as you realized you forgot to ask her where she was. 

You pulled out your phone, letting out a breath of relief when she answered, “I’m here Gia. Where are you?” 

“I’m at- I said no, stop, I’m at the bar.” She huffed. You felt your anxiety rise, who was she talking to? 

“Ok, I’m coming.” 

You pushed through the throngs of people, finally spotting the bar, seeing her leaning against the counter, hands flying as she argued with someone. 

You walked towards them hearing the tail end of their conversation, a bad feeling in your stomach.

“Gia!” You yelled, coming to stand next to her. 

She gave you a relieved look, falling into you, the effort of standing up being too much. 

You caught her, hugging her back. 

“Oh wow – two for one. I got a buddy that would love you.” 

You steadied Gia looking up to see the guy she was talking with giving you a smirk. 

You held his gaze, annoyed, “No thanks. We’re leaving now.” 

You went to turn but he caught your wrist pulling you back, the drink in his hand sloshing,

“Woah, don’t go yet, the fun’s just getting started. Look my buddies are in VIP we can hook you up.” 

You yanked your hand away, giving him a disgusted look, “First don’t touch me. Second, we’re leaving.” 

“You’re not leaving.” He persisted. 

You raised an eyebrow, “Fucking watch me.” 

He reached for you again, but you were prepared, grabbing his hand, and flinging it off you, as you weaved into the crowd, ignoring his shouts. 

You let out a breath as you stepped outside of the club, grateful for the cold air after sweating through your hoodie in the packed club. 

You adjusted your hold on Gia, holding her waist as you started the trek back to your apartment. 

She stumbled over her steps as you walked, giggling, “Oh my god Y/n your bleeding!” 

You gave her a confused look, dragging her, “What?” 

She giggled again, reaching for your hoodie, “It’s coming from your stomach, look it’s red!” She pointed at your shirt. 

You looked down and you stopped in your tracks, breath hitching as you began to panic, “Oh shit Gia I’m wearing Gavi’s hoodie!” 

She stopped as well, letting go of you as she plopped onto the ground, staring up at you,

“So?” 

“So? He’s going to be so mad at me. That dick spilled his drink on me. This is a white hoodie – who knows if it will come out?” You stressed.

“It’s-" she hiccupped, “fine.” 

You shook your head, “No It’s not it’s his favorite hoodie, I didn’t even realize I was wearing it. Fuck, I have to clean as soon as we get home.” 

You started walking before you realized she wasn’t following you. 

“Gia?” 

You turned around to see her slumped against the sidewalk, eyes closed. 

You rushed to her side, shaking her, “Gia? Gia, are you okay?” 

She hummed, “I don’t feel so good.” 

“Can you walk? We’re almost halfway there.” You asked, helping her sit up so she was leaning against you. 

She groaned, “I’m going to throw up.” 

You looked around anxiously, unsure of what to do. You had left the main strip of clubs and restaurants, and were now on a back road, walking in an area that was dimly lit and that you weren’t too familiar with. 

“I can call an Uber.” 

You reached into your pocket, cursing yourself as you realized you had forgotten your wallet in the rush to get to the club. 

“Shit, I don’t have my wallet. Do you have yours?” 

“Antonio.” She groaned, leaning her head against your shoulder. 

You let out a huff, contemplating what to do. You attempted to get her to stand up once again, desperate to get out of the area, but she couldn’t stand, and you weren’t strong enough to carry her the rest of the way. You chewed on your lip debating a solution, but you didn’t want to do it unless it was the absolute, last, last resort. 

You spent the next five minutes calling all your friends, but no one answered. You groaned, frustrated, knowing you had run out of options. 

You heard your friend beginning to doze off and you shook her, “Gia stay awake.” 

She moaned, “Y/n I really don’t feel good. I don’t know what’s wrong.” 

Your finger hovered over the contact, and you finally pressed it, feeling the guilt build inside. 

It rang seven times before going to voicemail. You called back. 

On the third ring, the line finally connected, 

“Y/n? Why are you calling me so late?” Gavi’s voice was thick with sleep, his words murmured. 

Hearing his voice sent a pang of relief through you, and suddenly you didn’t feel so alone,

“Gavi I’m sorry. I really need your help.” 

He was up in an instant, wide awake, “What’s wrong?” 

“I’m stuck in the middle of the road with Gia. She got drunk and I went to get her but now I’m worried there’s something wrong. She can’t get up and we’re all alone. I don’t have any money. I called our friends, but no one answered, I-I didn’t know what to do.” You rushed out. 

You heard his breath accelerate on the other end of the line, “Ok don’t worry baby I’m coming. Send me your address, everything’s going to be okay. Just stay on the phone with me.” He reassured you. 

You nodded before realizing he couldn’t see you, “Thank you so much Gavi.”

You heard his car door open, “Anytime. If anything happens like this again you call me first, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

You stayed on the phone with him, rubbing Gia’s shoulder to comfort her, readjusting her whenever she began to doze off. 

Finally, you saw a familiar car pull onto the street, and you waved your hands, trying to get him to see you. 

The car made a quick turn and then Gavi was rushing out, a worried look on his face, 

“Oh thank god you’re okay. I was so worried.” 

“I’m so sorry for waking you. Thank you for coming.” 

“Y/n stop apologizing.” He said, helping you carry Gia to the car. 

Upon feeling that she was being lifted, her eyes shot open, “Y/n what’s going on?”

She glanced over to her left seeing Gavi before she turned to look at you, it took two seconds for her eyes to widen and then she was whipping her head back, “Gavi? The hell y-you doing here?” 

You giggled at her abruptness, “I had to call for help.” 

She turned to you, snuggling into your shoulder affectionately, “You’re the best Y/n. She was a rockstar today.” She spoke, as you both pushed her into the car. 

Gavi raised his eyebrow at you as you both got in, “A rockstar eh?” 

You rolled your eyes, “She’s just spewing nonsense.” 

Gia groaned in the back, hands clumsily coming to slap your shoulder, “Ehh don’t lie Y/n. You should have seen the way she talked to those guys – even I was scared.” 

You saw Gavi’s grip on the steering wheel tighten, his posture stiffened as he looked over at you,

“Guys? What guys?” 

You opened your mouth to reply but Gia beat you to it. 

“This one guy, he kept trying to get me to come with him, but then Y/n was like no way we’re leaving, and then he started hitting on her, but then he tried to grab her, and she karate chopped his hand! He was so embarrassed!” 

You felt yourself blushing at her recollection of events, “I did not karate chop his hand!” 

“Yes, you did. It was like in midair when he was talking about his friend that liked you, and then I blinked, and it was gone!”

“Did he try anything?” Gavi’s voice was hard, as he looked at you.

You shook your head, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, “No don’t worry. We were fine.” 

You felt his body relax under your touch, and one of his hands came to grip your own, “You should have called me sooner. I’m sorry you had to deal with that asshole.” 

You felt your heart flutter at his words, “Don’t worry I handled it. But thank you, next time I will.” 

Soon you were pulling up to your apartment and hauling Gia up your steps. 

“I really wish we had an elevator right now.” Gia groaned as she was being half pulled, half carried up the steps. 

You made eye contact with Gavi after hearing her statement, and you had to bite your cheek not to laugh out loud, 

“You and me both G.”

Finally, you reached your apartment, and all let out a sigh of relief as she fell onto your bed, passing out almost immediately. 

You cringed as you saw her head land centimeters away from the sharp edge of one of your textbooks. 

You reached over, clearing the space so she was able to sleep without the risk of a concussion. 

You looked up once the area was cleaned to see Gavi looking at you intently, a weird expression on his face almost like he was stuck in his thoughts. 

“What? Is everything okay?” You asked unsure, looking down at yourself. 

That’s when you realized. 

You were still wearing his hoodie, the one that had a massive red stain on it now thanks to the jackass at the club. 

You had completely forgotten about it. 

You quickly apologized, “Gavi I’m so sorry. Gia called and I was so worried so I grabbed the first thing I could find – and then the guy kept grabbing me and had this drink – anyways,” you let out a huff, “I’m really really sorry, I can buy you a new one.” 

Gavi stared at you in surprise, shocked by your outburst, “Y/n relax. It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry I know how much you love this sweatshirt.” 

Gavi shook his head slightly smiling, you were just so adorable, and he physically couldn’t hold back the words he’d been dying to say any longer, “I love you more though, so it’s fine.” 

“Wha-what?” You stumbled over your words, clearly not expecting such a big revelation.

“I said I love you.” He said it with so much confidence, almost like he was reciting a fact, something that couldn’t be changed, and you melted a little at how sure he sounded. 

You didn’t know what to say, your brain still playing those three words on a loop. He loved you. He had said it first. 

The silence stretched on and now it was his turn to get nervous, “Is that okay?”

Your mouth was still open in shock, but you quickly recovered, 

“Yo-you love me?” Your voice cracked. 

“Well, yeah�� why would I not?” He asked, eyes locked on yours.

You shook your head, a smile gracing your features as you took a step closer to him, “I love you too, and I’m sorry-”

He cut you off with a sweet kiss, pulling you closer into him, as he slid his hands under the sweatshirt, fingers gently squeezing the soft flesh of your hips. 

Your lips moved in sync and your hands went to play with his hair, gently tugging. 

You heard him let out a groan and you bit his bottom lip instinctively. 

He pulled away out of breath, a dazed look in his eyes, “Joder, you can ruin all my hoodies if this is how you apologize.” He muttered breathlessly. 

You rolled your eyes, smiling as he brought you back into him for another kiss. 

[floralcyanide]

ʜɪꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴘʀᴏꜰᴇꜱꜱᴏʀ!ᴊᴏʜɴ “ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ” ᴇɢᴀɴ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ

Today is your first day pursuing your Master of Arts in History, and the first day you meet your advisor, Dr. Egan, Professor of History.

pairing: professor!john "bucky" egan / fem!reader

warnings: none

author’s note: peep the somewhat grey hair edit of bucky I made lol, this is such s elf indulgent au because I am a history major looking to go into my master's and also I want to be a history professor so yeah ((: I will either write this as an actual fic but idk yet!! enjoy (:

masterlist | divider credit: @cafekitsune

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

✦ It’s your first day on your path toward your Master of Arts in History. You’re meeting with your advisor today, who will help you on that very path and hopefully guide you to its end with success.

✦ Apparently, your advisor is prevalent around campus despite you never having a class of his. Your university is quite large, so even though your focus is American History, and so is his, it’s not unheard of to never have met him.

✦ He wasn’t too into social events held by the history department, which is understandable. You loved attending them in your later years of being an underclassmen. But they can be overwhelming at times. 

✦ You wrap your knuckles against the wooden door before you, and before you can finish knocking, a tall, salt-and-pepper man swings the door open with a dazzling smile.

✦ “Welcome, I’m Dr. Egan. I’ll be your advisor for the rest of your time here on campus.” He offers a hand for you to shake, which you happily take. His grip is firm, but so is yours. You were taught to look someone right in the eye while shaking their hand firmly- but not too firmly. Dr. Egan picks up on this.

✦ You’re one of three female history majors in the entire department going toward a Master’s and one of about twenty altogether in the major. So, of course, you’re going to need a firm handshake and steady eye contact to get ahead in your field.

✦ “Quite a handshake you have there,” Dr. Egan says, taking a seat behind his desk. He waves a hand for you to sit in one of the chairs in front of it. “Thank you,” you say, “My grandfather taught me always to have a perfect grip.” “Your grandfather was right,” Dr. Egan nods, “because in this major, being an equal with the males will take you far.”

✦ Your grandfather and father were history buffs and even lived through major historical moments, like the World Wars. So your goal in life is to teach others about what they loved so dearly and went through so harshly.

✦ Your mother had you just a few years before your father was shipped off to England, so you spent the beginning of your school years without him. Your grandfather filled in the gaps you missed from your father, thankfully. Sadly, your grandfather passed just last year, but you aim to carry his legacy and intelligence.

✦ “I’m aware, unfortunately,” you grimace at the thought of the male-dominating discipline, “But I’ve made it this far, and I’m not backing down.” “Great, I’m glad to hear that. Especially since you’re the first student I’ve ever advised for a Masters.” “Really?” you ask, a little surprised, “Then we’ll do this together.”

✦ Dr. Egan winks at that and dives into what research will be required for your first paper. The topic is based on the thesis statement of your final project, a little warm-up, as Dr. Egan called it- to the real deal at the end of your two years of studying. You go on to tell him that you want your thesis to be about the pilots of World War II, but you don’t elaborate on why. 

✦ Dr. Egan tilts his head at you when you don’t explain why you chose that exact topic but let it go. He’s had to learn that everyone has skeletons in their closet, as well as personal things, and not just him.

✦ You can’t help but take in his appearance. His outfit consists of a brown tweed blazer and a white button-up with black slacks. His hair is curly and graying on the sides, and he has a faint stubble with a notable mustache on his upper lip. Dr. Egan held himself carefully but confidently, like he’d been hurt by something but still had an ego of sorts. It reminds you of your father and grandfather. You weren’t sure why.  But you’re going to figure it out.

✦ Dr. Egan is in his 40s now and picked up college again after leaving the military due to PTSD. He eventually got his Ph.D. in History and is now a professor, and has been for a few years now. He enjoys his job. Dr. Egan (or Bucky, as we know him) loves that he can focus on American History without living through it, so he teaches it. Bucky tries to avoid WWII as a topic because he doesn’t want students and staff to know he served. He thinks it will hinder their outlook on him. 

✦ Bucky has only known you through letters and now an hour of talking, but he already expects a lot from you. He knows you are skilled and passionate about history. When you look at him, though, he feels you can see right through him. Bucky doesn’t know how to gauge that quite yet.

✦ You bid farewell to Dr. Egan after about two hours of getting to know each other's basic info as well as what’s expected of your MA in History. You leave, letting out a deep breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding as you walked out of the office. You’re still nervous, but not about your Master’s anymore- it’s about how you’re going to manage the next two years with a man like Dr. Egan.

[brb-on-a-quest]

Day Fourteen Day Fifteen Day Sixteen

im SOOOOO SORRY that I left you guys hanging those two days! *cries* the first one I genuinely forget, and the second I was too busy to do it- and I think that this is not the first time this might happen, since the farm (oh yeah, if you're not one of my regular followers, you should know I'm a farmhand lol) is picking up steam, during my down time Im trying to do more physical rest for my body to recover. which means unfortuantely, Ive been spending less time on here in general, and that my longer posts that take more time to write have had to pause for a while.

so, I'm sorry to say but this is the last day i'll be able to do this for a while, but maybe forever. I've had so much fun with it and loved to see everybody's different answers, and how we've all connected!! but for at least a few days/weeks, I need a bit of a break lol. if anyone wants to pick up this game again, with the same list of people I've given already or different ones, you are more than welcome to! and I'm not leaving Tumblr, I'm just not going to do this particular ask game anymore.

our final question: what is something that you you want in your life, and what can you do to achieve it? what steps do you need to take to earn the life you see yourself living?

thank all of you so much! I hope to return again maybe sometime! I wish you all the best :)

Awww no worries gracie! take care of yourself first. Def appreciate all the work it must've taken to come up with good questions. I'll be sure to haunt your inbox soon with hopefully some equally thought-provoking (or not) questions.

ok, actual question: our final question: what is something that you you want in your life, and what can you do to achieve it? what steps do you need to take to earn the life you see yourself living?

To be honest, this question has haunted me for the past...well since before high school. (has it really been almost 10 years since I was a baby highschool freshman?). To be also perfectly honest, my depression and anxiety were so bad I was never convinced I would make it as far as I did... which allowed me to put off answering the question for a long while until the Hour of College Applications approached.

Well, against all previous conceptions of my future, I am still alive and about to graduate in December (literally how) and set to walk across the beautiful stage in May to get my undergrad diploma with some kind of academic honors (I forget the Latin for it). Definitely not the highest GPA, but I am relatively proud of myself considering the effort and, for lack of a better phrase, blood, sweat, and tears that have gone into this. So, steps that need to happen in order to graduate

Pass classes (Preferably with A's but I'm also in a position where hopefully my self-esteem won't die with a B or 2).

Write and Finish my thesis (shaking crying throwing up I don't have enough capacity for this even if it's only 15 pages in Spanish)

Study and hopefully pass a GRE (graduate school readiness exam I think? 'cuz I'm told it's a good idea for master's school applications I can not stress enough how much I hate standardized tests and am so anxious about this that I haven't even opened my books yet, I've just been throwing myself into thesis research instead; I 'know not all schools require this but I'm going into something that's not my major, so I feel some kind of need to prove myself).

Apply to graduate schools for counseling!

Only four things... it shouldn't be so bad.... one would think... (can I please just skip to the part where this is over why do people call college the best years of my life).

The other thing I want to work on is just being a better person and in particular a better friend. My goal is therapy, particularly pediatric therapy because it's such a neglected area where I'm from and also in general I think because there tends to be stereotypes of "oh children can't have mental health problems." but doing that means I want to develop more compassion, friendliness, and patience and gentleness and actual listening skills while being assertive...yk an environment that nurtures personal and other's growth. Which is really hard. Progress has been made but still more to go.

[senzasord]

Life update - haven't done one of these in a while, but I reached a save point, so a good time for it.

Read more break because it's longish:

- finally finished the assignment that was due in april. Far too late to submit, but I've emailed my course advisor (and will over the next week build up the courage to email my unit coordinator as well). I don't have to process this until next year when I re-take the unit, but if you don't count my capstone assessment for prac next year, then that was my last assignment for my masters of teaching. I'm frustrated with how long it took, but I really enjoyed completing it, and maybe I'll get to implement it one day (it was a proposal for a classroom intervention)

- mum and older sib finally found a rental, and also grandad's will has been done, so for the first time in my life I'm not worried about mum having money. Hopefully it lasts - it's not too much, but enough that i can breathe, and mum's getting better with money too, so it should last a bit. I actually really don't know what to do with myself.

- Cody has an infected paw. Vet wants to do exploratory surgery. I'm worried because of his age, but they wouldn't recommended it if they weren't sure he couldn't handle it. Now that mum can afford it, it's been scheduled after the move

- Singing lessons are going well - won't go into it too much because I've been doing that enough on the other blog. Almost done for the year though. I hope to rebuild my practice over the summer

- Had another big flare from around mid-July to end of August, and spent September recovering from it, but doing better now. It's been really frustrating because the whole point of moving my prac was to have this half of the year to work on my health (e.g. starting the CHOP protocol to manage my POTS better), but most of the time has been taken up by flaring and finishing that assignment (which was, of course, delayed because of the flare). I've been trying to make peace with it by reminding myself the flare would have happened anyway, and it's been informative to know I can finish anything given enough time and not forced to quit for the start of a new unit. Also, class doesn't go back until February, so I still do have a lot of time. I might have to move my prac again, but again, that decision is a long way off. My brain is just good at dilating and shrinking timeframes in an unhelpful way. Knock on wood for no more big flares for the rest of the year (and not catching covid third year in a row! Now that the flare is over and my assignment is finished, I can get my booster finally)

- Now that flare is over, slowly reconnecting with friends I haven't been able to stay in touch with. Slow going, but it's been good to see people and talk to people in real life who aren't my coworkers, my housemate, and my doctors. Also means I get to enjoy better the company of my friends of my weekly discord game. They'd never admit it, but I can be pretty annoying during a flare, so I'm glad we might get a reprieve from me for a while

I think there's other stuff, but those are the big ones. I've promised myself to do no teaching study for a few weeks. But I do have start all the admin and house things i"ve been putting off - I currently have 8 empty butter containers soaking for recycling that have been slowly collecting in the fridge since february. I hope I don't make a fool of myself by being optimistic - I could have another flare tomorrow. And I'm still exhausted all the time, but at the moment it's less so, so for the time being, I'll take the win.

Edit: my friend just finished their thesis!!!! WAHOOOOOO!!!!

[archaeostudies]

19.6.2024

soo, last week was real tough. i was finishing an essay and i wasn't home. good news is that i've already submitted that essay and now i just have to finish my Archaeological Theory paper and i'll be done with this semester (kinda of, bc there is no break for the thesis).

this paper i'm writing right now is about my one of my favorite subjects: postcolonialism!!

weekly log:

▪︎ writing and (hopefully) finish my final paper

▪︎ my last spanish class is tomorrow!! my tutor said i'm nailing it already so I just need to keep praticing :)

[lottiestudying]

Honours in Australia? How does one?

So it occurred to me recently that Honours is something quite specific to Australia. Obviously the term exists in academic contexts elsewhere, but we don’t use the term in the same as say, the US.

Essentially, Honours is the Australian equivalent of a British Undergraduate thesis, or maybe a research capstone project in the States. It’s completed after you have met the graduation requirements of your Bachelors, and most will just leave university to enter the workforce at that point. But for those of us with specific research interests, or needing it to qualify for better paying entry level post grad jobs, or wanting to stay in academia, it’s quite important. It generally requires an average of 70% across undergrad (around a B, although higher for more competitive degrees, like psych).

It’s essentially a PhD compressed into the space of a year (often called a mini PhD). In the end, we produce a 20,000 word thesis, as opposed to 100,000 for a PhD (or around that). We take classes in semester one—compulsory research methods, & some relevant electives (I’ll share mine later), and then thesis writing era begins in semester 2 (although we do a lot of prep writing, like lit reviews & survey design) in the methods course).

We also have a supervisor as you would in a PhD. Some departments provide you with a supervisor, others you have to find as you would a standard PhD. I went with a Professor I had in my last year of undergrad, whose general research interests matched with mine.

Grading is based on the British system (First/Second/Third etc, with breakdowns in between (High 2:1 verse low, for example), although our grade boundaries are different (80% for equivalent of an A. Above 90s are rare in undergrad).

In the end, we re-graduate with our main degree (for me, Bachelor of Political Science), but with Honours this time (I deferred my actual ceremony because having two doesn’t make sense when I already have a second degree to finish).

Anyways, so that’s what I’ll be doing this year. Lots of reading, researching, assignments, and lots of other stuff happening in my life too. Hopefully this can explain what the little Honours brackets in my bio means.

Feel free to drop any questions :))) Wishing you all a (belated) happy new year.

[ultdyknn]

hi all!! ヾ(＾∇＾) it's been a while

so many things have happened since i last posted, and a whole summer has gone by!

firstly, i have gotten back into creative writing again! i've always been into writing my own short stories and mini novels since forever, and now i've found the motivation to pursue this again.

for six years i've been working on a passion project of mine, which is a novel covering both period fiction and fantasy. it's even influenced a lot of my artwork, which has actually sparked my motivation to actually finish the novel. maybe i'll post some parts of the novel on here..? (ー_ーゞ ... stay tuned i guess?

last time i posted, i was looking forward to zb1's debut (10/7). let me just say.. i'm so so SOOO glad that they went with a fresh whimsy concept and not a hardcore and dark concept that has been plaguing boy groups since 4th gen started. i've been seeing more groups start to shift away from the hardcore concepts and i couldn't be happier.

also, my two zb1 albums came in last month and guess who's card i pulled?

not just one hao.. but TWO hoas??? i've never been this lucky before when it comes to pulling photocards ＜("0 ")＞

in addition to zb1, i've been catching up with groups that i've previously been fans of. nct dream also had a comeback in july 'ISTJ' and it's sooo good!! renjun has been killing it this comeback this is HIS era. let's go renjun you go renjun!!!

i didn't pull renjun this comeback but i've been collecting some of his photocards from this album and the previous album. i've been getting back into investing in photocards which i'm not too proud of, considering that it's a big investment depending on which idol's cards you want to collect.

unfortunately for me, all my favorite idols are really popular, meaning their cards cost a lot more.

i'm trying to be smart and not overdo it though!! i don't want to go broke again (◞‸◟）.....

in other non-kpop related news, i got a new laptop!! my old one gave up on me so i had to use my mother's personal laptop for the rest of the spring semester and for my summer classes. i'm not normally a picky person, especially in times like this where i take what i can. but... given how old it was... it was absolute hell trying to get things done with it.

i'm actually a pretty busy person, and a lot of my work requires me to have a good-working device with working internet. this spare laptop was barely getting me through that, and it became almost impossible to get anything done.

and finally!! i was able to save up enough money this summer to get a new laptop! and it was perfect timing since i go back to school very soon..

anyways.. school starts very soon for me. it's my last year and then hopefully i'll be done for good. i'm a little nervous because of senior thesis work, but i have a really supportive department (we're very small so we all know each other pretty well) so hopefully i'll be okay. hopefully, this year will go pretty smoothly and it'll be another good year.

again, i'm sorry that i haven't been on here a lot. hopefully i'll be able to stay on here enough that i can give monthly updates, but we'll see. until then, i hope this finds you in good spirits! love yas <33 !

to sign off, here's a funny cute pic of renjun that i've been cheesing over since two days ago

-Starr ☆

17.8.23

UPDATE!!

i totally forgot to mention that i watched barbie and oppenheimer a couple weeks ago and both are so so good!!! i was going in thinking i'd like only one of them, but actually loved both them near equally!

well... i actually think i liked barbie a little bit more. i think it has to do with being afab and being someone who has the female perspective and experience of a woman living in this world. i think that it's really sad that critics have labelled this as an "anti-man" and "preachy" movie when that wasn't the point at all. barbie actually talks about how the patriarchy is harming both women AND MEN! it talks about how even men are also victims of a social structure that they created.

i could talk about barbie forever, but i don't want to add too much to this post since it's already so long (~_~;)

maybe i'll talk about barbie and oppenheimer another time, since i have so many thoughts on both of them. overall, it was a good experience and recommend both movies to anyone who hasn't seen them yet. 10/10 for both to be honest...

anways.. signing off for real this time!

-Starr ☆

[itsjustanne]

Senior Diaries 12/3/2022

I turned my undergrad history thesis in last night. I also shared it with my former advisor, who retired after my sophomore year, and one of my favorite professors who is unfortunately not returning to campus after her maternity leave. Both of them have relayed to me that they will take great joy in reading my paper and that they want to see me to discuss it and my plans for after graduation.

I see my former advisor for coffee on Tuesday and hopefully my professor and I will see each other in the spring semester. I will have submitted applications to graduate schools by then. The only stopping me from submitting them now is the financial aspect, I need to pay to get my transcripts and to pay the application fees. I plan on doing that with my next paycheck, so in the meantime i want to have everything else ready for submission.

The only other thing is asking my current advisor if he's willing to have himself put down as a reference. So far I've only gotten one application started, for University of York, and it's so different fro American schools. I only need to provide contact information so that if they feel the need to ask for further information about myself and my work they can. I remember applying for undergrad and I had to have letters of recommendation submitted to the commonapp by my teachers.

Usually by this time on a Saturday I would have already been up and ready and have gone to the farmers market. But I think I deserve a bit of rest today. I don't really need anything at the market and I'm only on campus until next Friday; then it's home for the holiday break.

It's very bitter sweet. I have officially completed one major, and I won't be taking another history class until the second half of next semester. My roommate is moving out permanently as she graduates early and will be totally finished with her degree by next Friday. One of our friends who graduated last year lives just down the street, but I will be almost completely alone in the spring. I plan on taking myself on adventures and pushing myself past my comfort zone a bit. I already enjoy doing things on my own, but this will really be my test of what it might be like in the future.

I have never made friends very easily. I have two, maybe three, close friends at home. One of whom is my sister (in wall but blood). And here on campus I have my roommate and maybe one other person. So it will feel very odd to be in such a big apartment all by myself.

On the bright side, one of the other history majors lives above me and both of us have another senior thesis to work on in the spring so hopefully I might have some more interaction than what I think I will. and all of the history majors are planning on doing something in the spring, drinks or dinner maybe. And all of us want to get a picture with my former advisor as he was one of the best professors this school has had and we've all had at least two classes with him. He also opened our first year here at the first year seminar with a speech that touched me so deeply I got a tattoo to remember his words.

This has been a rather long entry and I have nearly reduced myself to tears. So enough of that- I'm going to get dressed to face the day and start on some research for my next paper and work on putting together applications.

[repo-net]

Month of Nagisa - I'm Still Me

(IT IS OCTOBER 23 AS I POST THIS. HAPPY NAGISA DAYYYY FOR 2022, HERE'S TO ANOTHER YEAR AND FOR HOPEFULLY HITTING 1000 NAGISAS IN MY ALBUM SOON)

Another 7pm evening where I sit down on a desk, a cup of ramen noodles on the side as I type at a computer for hours to search all across the internet for the notes and answers I need while I try to finish the thesis paper that got handed to me last minute.

Really, what was our professor thinking? Does he genuinely expect us to finish a four page paper before his class tomorrow morning? We're not lab rats who can pump out product after product at inhumane speeds. Not all of us, at least.

Look at me and my genius self though, complaining about how much I detest the work I've been given yet finishing it anyways. I haven't changed at all, have I? I guess some habits just never die, no matter how hard I try to put them away.

It's bizarre to think about in general... there's so many ways my life could've turned out differently. For better or for worse, really. But what can a man do about it other than just ponder of what could've gone right, and what could've gone wrong.

Yeesh, look at what's happened. I'm doing work on an ever-approaching deadline with absurd expectations. It's not as severe as it used to be, but it doesn't make me feel good either way. You're still outclassed in that department, Father. No one can touch you when it came to burdening me the way you did.

Burdens... it's safe to say I still carry far too many of them for my own good. It's not like I'm completely innocent either. I had far too many chances to do the right thing, and yet I stood idly by and let people get out of control and die. I lie awake at night thinking about whether what I did was just, and yet I remember the hollow gratification I felt when you two died.

... And I know. If there's one thing I would've wanted, it's that you would've loved me. I wanted to see you be proud of me more than anything else. But now... I feel like redemption for myself is a far-gone conclusion and isn't ever something I could really truly achieve in it's fullest capacity.

I look around me and notice the picture frame I have on my table. A group photo of me and the most important people in my life. Me, and four other kids in a classroom posing with one hand each from us forming a heart. It was childish, but we were kids back then, so why would I get mad about that?

Even if you four have wronged me at some point in my life in one way or another, I wouldn't have traded the experience and time I had with you all for anything in the world. I just wish for one of you... we could've ended on better terms. I don't mind if you hate or don't care about me, I just wish I could've had closure and told you that I think you still have a chance to turn things around.

Heh, I talk about redemption for myself a lot but you four have far more opportunities for it than I. Maybe the road'll be shaky at times, but I think you'll all get there. Doesn't matter to me if no one else believes in you, I always will. I learned with all of you that family wasn't connected by genetics nor name, but rather by bond and growth.

We all screwed up. Massively. Fought back against a world that wronged us, and innocents got hurt in the process. But there's still hope for you all... and if I'm still alive despite everything I've been through, from near-death experiences to the hell that my own blood put me through, then I might as well keep thinking there's hope for me too.

People are going to keep bringing my past up as I get older. And that's fine. I don't expect or need people to forget about what I did, or forgive me at all. I just want them to know that I'm not the same idiotic kid I was back then. The Nagisa Shingetsu that tried to repress himself for a hopeless goal is long gone, and what I am now is a Nagisa Shingetsu who's going to keep at it. Not for anyone else's expectations or satisfaction, but for myself.

I hadn't lost my heart. I just finally figured out to open up and listen to it. And that's all that matters now. I'm still me.

[oneoftheprettynerds]

Devout Worshipper: Dark! Peter Parker x Professor!Reader

A/N: So this girl here tried something else. I’ve been wanting to upload since long but this got delayed a lot and now I have several WIPs but finished this first. Sorry not proofread. I’m still discovering my writing style and my forte and thank you for staying and witnessing my experiments! Wear safety goggles please.

Summary: The best of all the educators yet, both smart and stunning, became Peter’s mentor in university. Peter grew too much of a liking for her, from a clingy scholar to her devout worshipper.

WARNING: STORY AHEAD HAS NON-CON, KIDNAPPING, POSSIBLE DRUGGING, UNHEALTHY BEHAVIOUR, OBSESSION. DNI IF TRIGGERED.

You sat on the teacher’s desk, going through the latest thesis published by Dr. Banner last week. He had given you one of the several copies and asked you to go through it and your judgement on it. The classroom was slowly filling in as the scholars stacked in, their buzzes growing loud with each passing trice.

You were on the last paragraph of your current page when a slight thump made you break out of your stupor, you tilted your head up to find a brawny youngster leaning in front of you, with his hand planted beside your ass on the ebony desk. He had blonde locks with grey eyes and was definitely a sports’ team captain, basketball you believed, who had his own posse of wannabes behind him.

You kept the paper down in your lap and met his eyes again with an inquiring look. “Yes?”

“You seem new. Me and my guys will save you a seat at the back, so come there when your little reading session is over, babe.” He said smugly, his eyes brimming with mischievousness as they dipped to your cleavage not-so-subtly and stood there gawking while he awaited your response.

You paused to see the whole class had gone quiet watching your encounter with the jock. You gave him a sickly-sweet smile as you nodded shyly for show and he tapped your knee with his other hand before leaving. As soon as his back faced you, you rolled your eyes so hard at his antics you heard the first-benchers gasp. You could still hear him talking to his ‘friends’, “I love myself a badass girl like her.”

You returned to your thesis but before you could finish the last few sentences, the bell rung and you had to stop. Thanks blondie.

You got down from the desk, jumping on your black heels as you made your way over to the door, closing it as lock clicked into place.

The entire class was watching you with quizzical glances as you stood in front of your desk this time and wrung your hands together, “Good morning class and congratulation on making it to your second year in college, I will be your mentor and also your lecturer for biology for this semester and for those who pass, also their next one.” The entire class’ jaw slackened and you giggled lightly as waited for them to digest the news, and then told them your name.

“I know a lot of you see science itself as a chore but since you’ve already taken it, I suggest you try to pay attention as you will have to study it anyways. However, because I can relate to your struggles, I will try my best to be a companion or advisor, whichever way you prefer it, and help you get through the class with flying colours hopefully. So, ask me anything, no matter how stupid or absurd you believe your doubt or query is. I’ll answer as many times as you ask and trust me when I say that I am a woman of my word. You have any questions for the semester?” You finished with a bright smile on your face as you saw the students in the front relax slightly. At least you had their approval.

“Ma’am” The blonde kid started without raising his hand, stressing the word unnecessarily as he and his horde sniggered at some stupid inside joke, and continued, “Can I have your number?”

Some of the students gulped while the others leaned forward interested in your response. That kid thought he could fluster you by putting you in a weird spot. He smirked arrogantly, leaning back in his chair as you raised your eyebrows.

“That, Mr.?” You paused as you lingered for his answer, which came almost immediately.

“Flash Thompson, but you can call me whatever you want baby.”

His friends hooted at his pickup line, some praising his smoothness while some high-fived him.

“That, Mr. Thompson, is an excellent example of the stupid questions I mentioned formerly. Thank you for helping me make it clearer to the rest of the class, an extra point for you in the first grading assignment.”

His face fell as his jaw ticked and you turned to face the rest of the class again, “Though I suppose I will give you my number but for emergency purposes only, you can contact me on my e-mail though which I will be using most frequently. You are supposed to mail me majority of your papers this semester and the grading pattern is expected to change this time around but I will inform you of that when the time for the first assignment comes around. Any other questions, and if possible, a bit wiser ones?”

Peter knew he liked you that day. You were attractive and stunning, yes, that too in the natural way, without make-up and tight clothes. But of course, there was more to you than that, you were smart and witty, hence a young lecturer in this esteemed college and you being a science enthusiast as well was like chocolate chips on top of a well baked dessert. You were spirited and jaunty and your sardonic and sassy replies were never degrading or humiliating. The five-year difference between you and the class made you their elder sibling rather than professor.

The first benchers worshipped your intellect while the last benchers adored your sarcasm. Everyone could see how you gave your all to teach, every trick for learning, showing real skeletons and organs in formalin, easily becoming the favourite mentor ever. You could easily be labelled as the university’s crush of the year.

But Peter soon began to despise that. The perverted comments by the students and jealous, snarky remarks by the plastics irked him. He was enraged by the geeks admiring you but baffled all the more by the strange palette of emotions he had never suffered before.

The sheer envy he was sinking in had never even surfaced while he dated Liz or MJ. For him you were a Goddess, tons divine than his exes or any other female for that matter, who should be properly worshipped and treasured.

He knew these sentiments weren’t right, but in this twisted world where he had combatted with unnatural beings and seen unimaginable horrors, he began to believe morality is just fiction used by the herd of inferior men to hold back the few superior men.

It was the last day before spring break and no matter how much your pupils loved you, it wasn’t enough for them to not get distracted and murmur around. Only half of your entire class’s strength came and that half somehow managed to create more ruckus than usual. Even you were minutes late, not in the mood to teach this aloof and uninterested batch of youngsters.

You sat on the table and crossed your legs, which was somewhat your habit that you weren’t really proud of but continued to indulge in nonetheless, and cleared your throat times to catch the attention of the unmindfully fantasizing students.

The baritone of the males and shrieky pitches of the females made you clutch your head. You were sure going to end with disprin at the end of day. You clapped loudly and effectively so, gathered the class’s attention, but by the roll of their eyes and glares on their faces, you deduced they weren’t happy. Who would have thought?

“Okay, before you all slaughter me to the netherworld with your lethal gazes, let me make it clear that no teaching will commence today.” The class hollered appreciatively and whistled, while you paused to let them do so. Teaching on the last day before a vacation was like speaking to yourself only but with the consequence of your name being added to several hitlists.

“I’ll distribute the graded assignments submitted last Thursday and then, since I’m required to clock thirty minutes of educating at the bare minimum, we can play something, maybe you have some talents to show, principles to mock or some gossip to attend to.” The college kids laughed at your poor joke, perhaps too thrilled for their break that nothing could make their mood sour. “We’ll see accordingly, but first, raise your hand when I say your name, I want to learn at least the names of the students who bothered to come to uni on the concluding day.”

You distributed the papers back, making sure to associate each name with a face and the students took them stuffing it straight inside, not bothering to check their scoring and possibly wreck their mood.

“Peter Parker?” A hand raised in the second last row shyly, a flustered boy with glasses on his nose and a hoodie covering his head. He barely made eye contact and you smiled at his nervy, edgy form hoping to ease him a bit. Your heels sounded heavy against the few stairs as you made your way to the back, the class buzzing with laughs as students barely paid you any heed.

The draught of epinephrine Peter felt was unlike anything he had ever felt before, nothing like the anxiety on the battlefield or the excessive sweating while impressing Mr. Stark. The apprehension he felt was decuple that.

It’s not like he had never talked to you afore, he constantly asked clever doubts, which he knew the answer to already, of course, to make an impression on you, but that was with a two feet and 7.5 inches of teacher’s desk in between. Yes, he measured. He had even made sure a couple times, let’s be honest, more than several times that his Goddess had arrived her fascinating abode safely.

But this time, they’d be hardly half a foot apart and the anticipation was tearing him apart. He did want her close, in all ways possible, but was he ready enough to not make a fool of himself? All his previous conversations were thought out meticulously and beforehand but was ready for a spontaneous interaction?

“Good job, Smart Cookie.” You mused at Peter with a wink and dropped the paper on his desk as he looked at you with those innocent, doe-eyes of his, his cheeks and nose a tad bit rouge.

Peter’s hearing ability got lost as the sound of his heart pumping blood filled his tympanum. He could only watch you retreat back to the front of the class, your hips swaying invitingly in that damned black pencil skirt as you called another person’s name.

Smart Cookie was his favourite nickname now.

It was pretty late when you left the university premises, finishing up all you had to and even preparing for your first week of teaching after vacation because you knew how procrastinating errands went.

You couldn’t almost believe how you were on the adult end of things, making sure and guiding other people. With the job, came a lot of obligations that you had to fulfil and being responsible was hard, really demanding. You suddenly had a lot of reverence for all the teachers in your life, from kindergarten to your degrees.

You were on a sabbatical from research temporarily, signing a teaching contract for three years minimum and you were satisfies with the refreshment. Interacting young, curious minds was almost like a recreational activity you indulged in free time and the various angles they approached science at even taught you something. The scholars found it in themselves to even question well-established biology.

Slightly humming, you made a mental checklist of what all was left to do for your solo, self-discovering trip the next week. All that you should pack, clothes according to the weather in the hills and enough emergency eatables. Maybe you could revisit the work-in-progress papers of yours or maybe it would be a leisure excursion only.

Only you never made it to your flight.

 The pounding of your head made a thrumming noise in your head, increasing its tempo and volume with each passing instant. Your eyelids felt heavy and opening them felt like a chore, which even more difficult considering the light that flooded your vision with every bit they opened. Your senses felt overwhelmed being burdened and strained with their everyday tasks after what you assumed to be at least hours of inactivity.

The sudden spike of pain shooting in your head made you jerk your hand to clutch your throbbing forehead, only to fail and find your hands bounded to something. They weren’t cuffed or shackled, nothing dug in your wrist either. Maybe a rope but the texture wasn’t rough enough. After what felt like minutes, you opened your eyes and sat up, as straight as your confined self could, and looked around.

The room was shades of grey and blue, a giant bed was where you were sitting. The giant ceiling to floor windows beside you, cast enough moonlight in the bedroom for you to see the entire bedroom. The view outside was so picturesque, that you had been gawking were you not afraid of your surroundings. You could discern you were high up, with how small the vehicles looked and another wave terror ran through you.

A white desk with a blue chair had a laptop atop it, also sitting beside several books. You would have noticed them being your subject and recommendation but you were scanning your brain as to how you landed here. With your vision now clearer, you saw your restraints to be like silk but no matter how hard you pulled, they didn’t snap.

You were full on panicking and staring wide eyed when the laptop entered your vision again. There was no other electronic except it and you calmed yourself to think rationally. Deep breaths, in and out. Your best bet right now was to hope that the laptop was connected to someone’s wifi.

You slid off the edge of the bed and tried to cut the weird silk ropes with bedside table’s corner. It took some time but you succeeded, your hands freed from the poster of the bed as you made your way towards the laptop, after checking the locked door of course.

Another wave of panic ran through you when the laptop wasn’t connected to anything and all available connections were password protected. You noticed the laptop to be brand new, and of a very expensive company that was out of your budget. You also noticed the OS was very different, not the usual Windows you ran. Your AI Cortana in this overpriced gadget, was named Karen.

You still refused to wait for your captor to show up and snooped to find something on the laptop, anything. There was no profile of the owner but you did manage to find at least three GB of videos and images.

Your hands froze and eyes widened when you saw the security footage of your building’s outside, the little bakery’s neon sign confirming the location. The videos were the same, of you entering and exiting every day, just the dates on the videos varied.

Another folder had clips with the same dates, but they were in the lobby of your apartment, your potted plants outside your door the affirmation again. It showed you getting milks and newspaper every morning, ordering take out several days and placing the garbage bags outside.

The earliest date in each folder was after your first month of moving here, second week of teaching probably.

When you opened the third folder, as the video started your hands covered your mouth as you tried your best to hold back the sob and making a noise. The screen showed two camera screens, both inside your apartment. The first showed the living room clearly and your kitchen and you concluded it to be behind some article on the bookshelf.

The other screen showed your bedroom.

You could still see the floral bedsheet with the white quilt atop it. Your red suitcase that you took out from the storage for your trip this morning, resting beside the wall. Your lamp switched on from when you mayhap left it on, already late for the last day of work. As the time hit 12 AM at the bottom of the screen, the video ended and played again. There were even more folders and you wondered how far would the surveillance go, till your bathroom?

Your abductor had live footage of your house being sent to his laptop and that scared you shitless. This was not a random crime, that ransom could end. You were here for something, some sick purpose you didn’t even know. Was this a hate crime? Would you even make it-

“I really wish you hadn’t looked there.”

The deep, familiar voice amplified your fear and you turned your head slowly, almost comically to look at him. Another gasp escaped your lips as you found warm eyes of your student and brows furrowed in confusion and fear when you saw the deranged lust in his eyes. Was this some sick prank?

“What am I doing here and what is this?” You gestured to the screen playing footages of the inside of your house. Seeing someone familiar and the probability of this being a prank should have calmed you somewhat but the revolting trick and the strange darkness in the boy’s eyes made you even more wary.

As he took a step closer, you hastily climbed out of the chair and backed away, nearing the bed again as he locked the door and closed in on you. He made a move to snatch you and you jumped to the other side of the bed barely missing him by an inch. You reached for the door hoping to find it unlocked but it didn’t even budge.

You pulled even harder while being painfully aware of how that kid from your class just sat on the bed and observed, having the utmost confidence in the door. Your frenzied state got a jump-scare when a female voice broke the silence, “Authorization to access locked doors is granted to Mr. Parker only, please refrain from damaging the property, Mam.”

So some tech-boy with a rich background is set on you?

“Please sit on the bed and I’ll explain, please.”

His doe eyes would have fooled you were you not extremely aware of your environment due to the adrenaline coursing through your arteries. He was an exceptionally good actor, you had to give him that. You prided yourself to be an excellent judge of character and here this guy had deceived you for three months.

The AI called him Parker, what was his name again?

Patrick? Peyton? Peter? Yes, Peter Parker.

“Peter?” You softly called out and his eyes widened as a blush crept up to his cheeks as he relished the fact that you remembered his name. You sighed internally, praying that this was a case of a harmless crush gone wrong and he was just innocently hopeful. The image of his dark, lust covered eyes crossed your mind to make an argument but you pushed it aside to calm your nerves and stay as relaxed as you possibly could with all that was happening.

“I know that this is all a big misunderstanding but you are really scaring me here. Can you please at least let me out of this room to somewhere open?” You looked at him, hoping to talk him down and get out. You didn’t think he would hurt you but you weren’t willing to take any chances with this maniacal youngster either.

“I’m sorry but I can’t do that, you’ll run.”

Of course, you’ll run, who wouldn’t?

“Peter, boy, listen to me-”

“No, you listen to me! I admit the situation isn’t ideal and you’re probably terrified because of your meddling but this is all for you! I’m here to protect you! The world out there isn’t safe and your heavenly self needs to be resuscitated.”

“Peter, you’re not making any sense. I’m an adult, older than you and you need to understand boundaries-”

“I’ve seen the way of the world, trust me, in fact, far more than you have! Did you know that raping and murdering women on Asgard is considered a common crime? How Hydra is kidnapping young, bright women to exploit them for breeding projects? How the Red Skull resurfaced and his ideals now include eradicating women from Earth as well?”

“Pete-”

“No, you don’t know! You are just blissfully unaware of this world, so oblivious you don’t even how know the perverted and debauched comments your own class makes?”

His outburst frightened you as you felt yourself losing control of the situation, maybe you never were in control. But now the unleashed fury on Peter’s face told you that had triggered an irrevocable topic.

“Calm down, it’s alright.” You said quietly, hoping to ease him again but his steps towards made you back up yourself to the other side of the bed.

“You, You are still scared of me, aren’t you? You still don’t understand, do you? I’ll show you, show you how much I worship you, the true extent of my devotion.” Every ludicrous declaration of his bit away your hope of getting out.

As he approached you again from the foot of the bed, you jumped across the bed again, hoping to reprise your stunt from before. However, your jumping halted midway as something glued your right wrist to the headboard and you jerked due to inertia of movement. As your eyes looked to your hand, the same silky rope met your vision.

You did not have the time or the wits to ponder over the fluid, about how your abductor shot it or how it wouldn’t budge no matter how hard you pulled. A hand on your ankle prompted you to try one last time as you screamed as loud as you could, for as long as your lungs allowed.

“It won’t work, Mr. Stark got me a soundproofed apartment. Pretty cool, right?”

A sob wracked through your entire frame as the tears descended, the frustration and hopelessness and dread, all attacking you at once. Your legs kicked and flexed and when your left fist swung, he restrained all your limbs after dodging, of course.

“I just want to love you, is it too much too ask?” He asked in a quiet whisper, his hands undressing you cloth by cloth; first unzipping the side of your pencil skirt and unwrapping it, then unbuttoning your blouse. When he brought out a pocket knife, your eyes instinctively closed, a “Please don’t hurt me” falling from your lips.

“Never.” He replied with absolute assurance.

The blade cut through your blouse first, leaving you in your garments while Peter sat back on his knees to admire you. You’ve been flattered with the adoration in his eyes had you not gone through the mayhem that you had.

His hand caressed your curves, feeling the soft skin underneath as he took his time admiring you, committing each feature to memory while your tears poured, your eyes never leaving the knife he held.

The blade invaded your privacy once again as it took away your last pieces of defense, leaving you utterly nude and your cries wreaked havoc in the otherwise quiet room. Your eyes found Peter face and you noticed his eyes twinkling in admiration trailing up and down your body several times. His disciple complex was scaring you, you almost bordered considering his Goddess belief.

“So stunning.” He whispered as he came down to kiss you, his lips meeting yours in this bruising embrace of both your mouths and as he began to undress himself simultaneously, his dramatics became the least of your concerns. The thought of the inevitable future made home in your mind and gave you one last bout of courage to try and fight.

The restraints on your limbs didn’t even budge and every fleck of hope deserted your body when you saw the chiseled abs on his scarred torso, his biceps bulging and silently warning you into staying put. He made quick work of his remaining outfit and his hard, angry member was bigger than you had anticipated.

You had not expected a stereotypical nerd to be packing, with muscles and brawns, hardly to even expect him to be the largest among the ones you had ever experienced.

“Please don’t.” You mumbled, defeated, knowing he would not listen. You closed your eyes expecting the intrusion to get it over with. You were caught off handed when you felt him shift and devour into your pussy. He feasted like a man famished, his tongue leaving no area unlapped. The sparks in your abdomen made you queasy and giddy at the same time, you could barely open your eyes due to the intensity of his actions and when he added two of his shockingly calloused fingers, you let go of the coil in mere seconds.

Your limbs sat limp while your vision whitened, your mind foggy and hazy, deprived of all sensibility. When his thick thighs rested on top of yours, your gaze ascended to meet his already staring pupils, the warm, honey brown orbs now a black abyss. You couldn’t even protest in your blissful state as lined himself and entered your cavern, which was lubricated enough courtesy of him.

The stretch burned but as he rocked himself and thrusted with a rhythm, the pleasure started building from scratch. Each push was sturdier than the last and every spot he hit managed to make your breath hitch. Your hands and legs freed as the fluid perhaps melted but the last of your energy was being used by you to stay conscious. When he descended to kiss you once again and trailed kisses to your collarbone, your hands held onto him for support, his biceps providing anchor to you, made of pure muscle.

His teeth bruised your skin as he lightly bit your neck, reaching his end and releasing his load. The warmth that filled you made you let go, his orgasm encouraging another one from you.

Your eyes drooped, your body filled with exhaustion due to all the struggling as you curled in to your side and wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to forget your abductor and the forceful, mind shattering ecstasy you felt. Your refused to think about the guilt and the uncertainty of your impending doom in the hands of this maniacal student of yours. You just wished for sleep, for some peace alone.

The wish of yours was not granted when you felt Peter slide behind you, his hand wrapping around your middle as if you were lover. You still gave into slumber, but not before feeling him peck your shoulder with a promise.

“This devotee of yours will worship you forever and always, Goddess.”

[the---hermit]

Hello there! Since for some reason there is now over 1000 of you following this sideblog, and many weren't around when I first posted an introduction, I decided to create a new one. Plus in less then a month this blog will turn 1 year old! So, I guess this is a good moment to do this.

about me

my name is Cris, I'm 22, I'm bi, and I use she/her pronouns out of habit, but honestly I couldn't care less

I'm from Italy

I study history in university, and I am currently at the end of my third year (it should tecnically be my last year, but I still have a few exams left, plus my final thesis, so I will be graduating a bit later)

I have studied languages in high school so I also speak English (duh) and a bit of French (I have forgotten the majority of things I had learned in my German class, but I'd like to pick it up again)

I'm a pagan witch, I love gardening and nature in general, and one of my biggest hobbies is to dry my own herbs to mix them into herbal teas

other hobbies include reading, drawing, writing, cooking and going on walks in the woods

about the blog

this is actually a side blog! My main blog is @cri080799 it's an old mess of random reblogs.

I also have a witchy sideblog called @the-hermit-witch

I created this studyblr/bookblr/whatever last year, to help me stay motivated, and it has worked very well so far. I like to think of this blog as a journal more than everything

I mainly post about what I am studying and reading

on the topic of books I am also pretty active on Goodreads (there I post book reviews both in English and Italian depending on the language of the book I read)

I met some amazing friends thanks to this blog, and hopefully I will meet more!

goals

at the moment my main goal is the keep my motivation up as much as I can. In the past year it hasn't been the best, so I am working on that

finishing all the damn exams I still have to do

write my final thesis

hopefully graduate as soon as I can cause I really want to be done with all the stress

useful tags in the blog

#the---hermit : the tag for all my own posts

#cris speaks : mainly me ranting about stuff

#reblog : pretty self explainatory, everything I reblog from other people

#self reblog : no idea why I am mentioning this but sometimes I reblog some of my old posts and tag them this way

#tips : this is possibly the most useful tag, everything of my own or that I reblog that has study tips, or organization tips and so on

#quotes : again pretty self explainatory

#note to self : stuff I reblog that is maily positive things I should remind myself more often

#book review / #book recomendation : again pretty clear, usually it's me ranting about books I read, with no spoilers

#ask / #answered : usually how I tag the answer from my inbox (btw it's always open, so come and say hi if you want)

#random history fact : I only have a few out at the moment but there's so many little facts that are worth sharing, so keep an eye out cause there's going to be way more in the future

a few amazing studyblr of friends / mutuals I've made in this past year :

@peregrination-studies, @contre-qui , @justanotherstudyblrinthecrowd , @sage-studies .

a few studyblr that inspired me to start this sideblog :

@myhoneststudyblr,@rylie-studies , @serendistudy, @starrystvdy and @gaaandaaaalf.

I am surely forgetting about someone or about something, and for this I apologize. As I have said my inbox is always open so come say hi, I am now going to end this post or else I'll just randomly keep ranting about useless stuff.

[neighbourskid]

Dave? Dave.

It's been quite a bit since I've written anything here, huh? Well, I guess as it has been for pretty much everyone, life has been kinda strange for a while now. Despite vaccine roll-outs and continually changing safety regulations, there's still a global pandemic on, and everyone is trying to navigate this reality the best they can. For once, we are all, generally speaking, in the same boat now (sure, there are huge differences between countries because capitalism fucking sucks and rich greedy humans are once again proof that things need to change asap, but overall, we all have to deal with this pandemic).

But I don't actually want to talk about the pandemic, it just exists as a frame of what I do wanna talk about.

As I have mentioned before, when the pandemic hit, I was in the last semester of my undergrad studies and writing my Bachelor thesis. Or that's what I was supposed to do, anyway. I did do a lot of reading for it, early in the first lockdown after university closed and we were all attending from home. I was lucky, I had no classes, I only had like three scheduled meetings to check in on progress of the thesis, but otherwise I was free of zoom calls and attempting to attend university digitally. So I read.

After a while, reading became taking a book with me into the sun, glancing at one or two pages, and then just napping for most of the day, and spending my evenings either playing video games or watching some tv show or movie. At some point, I felt like now was the perfect time to rewatch all fifteen seasons of CRIMINAL MINDS, so I did that, instead of writing my thesis. I still occasionally read, but most of the days I just felt exhausted and unmotivated so I stayed in bed and binged my crime show.

As the deadline for the thesis started approaching, and the time I had left fell under a month, a switch in my brain seemed to be activated and, oh, hello, suddenly there was a certain drive there for that thesis again. Which lasted exactly until an email from university dinged into my inbox a few days later, informing me that I would get another month for my thesis, due to the pandemic. And away that motivation and drive went, immediately.

Not much later I had a session with the therapist I was seeing at the time, because of the hormone treatment I had started early that same year. I had talked to him about my concern that I might have ADHD before because I didn't feel like there was anything we needed to talk about related to my transition, so I brought it up again here. I told him how my thesis was going -- or rather, how it wasn't going at all -- and finally, as I told him about some of the issues I experienced while trying to do work for it, he acknowledged that I may indeed have some attention regulation issues. He prescribed me medication to try out, and -- wonder oh wonder -- suddenly I was writing my thesis. I ended up finishing it on time (even though a week before I had a moment of "all of this is garbage, I will never pass, I should start the whole thing from scratch") and got a decent grade for it, too. I've been on those meds since.

Over the last, I don't know how many years, I've always known that there was something a bit wonky about my brain. There were always these things that seemed to come so easy to other people, and try as I might, I just couldn't make them happen. I, presumably, had a lot of neurotypical friends. I also have friends with depression, BPD, anxiety disorders and other neurodivergencies. I have family members with autism. I know my mom suspected I might be on that spectrum as well.

Reading up on many of those things I never felt like any of them described what I was experiencing. There were certain traits, sure, but mostly there was a lack of what I actually did experience in most of them. Even ADHD, when reading about the "required" issues and traits, doing those self-diagnosing questionnaires, I just never saw what I felt represented. And then I started reading about what people with diagnosed ADHD had to say about how they experience things. I ignored the more medical or clinical information, and just looked for people talking about how they navigate their lives with ADHD. And then all of a sudden it was, oh, yeah this, this is relatable. This is where my brain's at.

Suddenly it made sense that caffeine didn't do nothing for me, that a nice, warm cup of coffee put me right to sleep. It made sense how, after only a month, suddenly a well beloved hobby or tv show was suddenly of no interest whatsoever. Staring at the wall for three hours instead of doing a simple task. Drawing in class so that I could pay attention to what is being said. The inability to remember much of my life before 6th grade. Having to bounce my leg so I could read a simple text. Needing to visually break a book down into chapters with colourful post-its to keep me from being overwhelmed by the length of the book. And so many other things. Suddenly, there was a reason for that.

I've always liked doing personality quizzes. Or doing stuff related to my zodiac sign even if I don't believe in astrology per se. Finding out what my Enneagram number is. Or my Myers-Briggs type. Not because I think those things define me or describe me to a T, but because they give me a vocabulary. They give me options. I love answering a bunch of questions and then getting a wall of text telling me This Is Who You Are and then I get to pick out what is accurate and what isn't. It gives me words to describe who I am that I didn't have before.

And it is the same thing with posts or videos of people with ADHD. It gives me a vocabulary for the things I experience and it lets me express those things in a way I wasn't able to before. Before, I was like, doing things that my brain doesn't want to do, feels like running headfirst into a wall because there is no way above, around, or underneath it. There is no door, no ladder, no tunnel, no nothing. There is only running headfirst into it until maybe, hopefully, it cracks. Preferably before my head does. But that is exhausting and most of the time, I prefer to not get through the wall at all, if what it takes is going headfirst through it. Now, I know that what that is, is a dopamine deficiency. The task that needs doing, the task that this wall is, doesn't give my brain enough dopamine. There is no satisfaction, there is nothing to gain from that task, so the brain isn't interested.

One of the things that I recently discovered and helps me a lot in this quest of figuring out how my brain works, is this guy Connor on tiktok, who also has ADHD. His videos are both hilarious and informative. And also incredibly relatable. They might be silly haha funny videos on the dear old internet, but I walk away from most of them going, oh! oh that makes sense, good to know.

He occasionally talks about how ADHD is completely misnamed and how Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder does not actually accurately describe what exactly people with ADHD lack. In one of his videos, he calls it DAVE instead. It's silly, and sounds a bit dumb, but I kinda like it. Dave. Dopamine Attention Variability Executive-Disfunction. Dave. I like Dave.

Y'know, I don't mind having ADHD. Presumably, I've lived with it my whole life so far. And it's annoying as shit some of the time. Especially when things need to get done and they just won't. But I don't mind that, especially now that I know that this is what it is. I've always feared that if I finally do go to a therapist and try to figure out what my brain is up to, they'll just tell me that I'm fine and there's nothing to worry about. And at first, my therapist did say I was psychologically unremarkable. But I guess if you've lived like this your whole life and nobody has really picked up on it, even a therapist doesn't notice (it's called masking, I've learned, thanks Connor).

But knowing is good. Knowing means I can learn things that help. I can take medication when needed. And, looking at the grades I'm currently getting in my graduate studies? Hells yeah, taking that medication and knowing how to deal with certain aspects of my brain helps a lot. It is incredibly funny to me that the best grades I have gotten in my entire academic career have been achieved in my Master's studies during a global pandemic. There is currently an actual real possibility that I may graduate summa cum laude. In my MA. That is insane!

Anyway, I am avoiding tasks by writing this right now. Oh, the irony. I'm gonna try and do those tasks now. Y'all take care. Cheers!

[firebrands]

finally, then once more; steve/tony

Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Explicit, 6.1k of a college au and the four times tony asks steve to fuck him, and the one time steve finally does | Stony Bingo Prompt: loss of virginity | on ao3

Maybe Tony’s lack of sleep is to blame for how he doesn’t check to see who’s taken the seat on the bar beside him. He’s too busy typing, cigarette hanging loose from his lips, trying to make the most of his waking hours before his vision gets blurry. Based on experience, that happens when he hits the 28-hour mark.

Whoever’s sitting beside him has their knee pressing against Tony’s. Tony can feel the warmth through his tattered jeans, worn down at the knee.

The man beside him clears his throat, and Tony looks up.

It’s a good thing the cigarette is almost done, because it falls out of Tony’s lips. He stares, slack-jawed, at the absolute specimen in front of him.

“Uh,” Tony says, very eloquently.

The man smirks, and Tony has to suppress a shiver.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks, all buff and blonde and blue-eyed and perfect.

Tony tilts his head, mirroring the man’s smirk. “If you wanna get arrested, be my guest.”

The man groans. “What the hell are you doing at a bar, then?”

“Smoking and working,” Tony says, laughing a little. “The cafe I was at closed.”

“And what, you don’t have a place to stay?”

The question hits too close to the mark.

“No smoking in the building,” Tony says.

The man nods. “And how old are you, exactly?”

“Old enough,” Tony says, shifting so he’s fully facing the man.

The man snorts. “You one of them geniuses who got accelerated through school and went to MIT early, then?”

“Maybe,” Tony sniffs, takes in the gray henley, sleeves smeared with a bit of paint. “And you must be, what, a liberal arts major at BU?”

The man arches his eyebrow. “Steve Rogers,” he says, extending a hand. Tony grins and takes it.

“So what’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?” Tony asks, resting his elbow on the bar and lighting a cigarette.

Steve shrugs and takes a sip from his beer. “Well I was gonna buy someone a drink, but it seems like a glass of milk is more appropriate.”

“Are you calling me young?” Tony gasps, affronted.

Steve raises his eyebrows, biting back a smile. “Not calling you old enough, either.”

“I’m eighteen!” Tony says, furiously tapping his cigarette on the ashtray.

Steve laughs. “And easy to rile up, too,” he says.

Tony rolls his eyes. “I’m not taking this,” he says, putting out his cigarette with a huff. “I’m going to find somewhere else to work where beautiful blondes won’t be distracting me.”

“Oh, believe me. I think I can take your full attention,” Steve says, leaning back on the chair.

Tony stops packing his bag and stares. It’s a bit unfair, how gorgeous he looks even in the awful lighting of the dive bar.

“That’s not fair,” Tony says, brain to mouth filter completely shot as he teeters dangerously close to exhaustion.

“I’ll tell you what’s not fair,” Steve says, straightening up a little. “Is how you manage to look absolutely gorgeous even if I can tell you haven’t had any sleep.”

Tony groans and rolls his eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Yes, you are,” Steve says, raking his eyes up and down Tony’s body.

Tony bites his lip, excitement thrumming in his gut.

“And you have a bit of ash—” Steve murmurs, leaning close and thumbing at Tony’s cheek. “There you go. Perfect.”

He’s close enough that Tony can feel Steve’s breath on his cheek, and Tony turns his head a little, jaw still cupped in Steve’s hand, to brush his lips against Steve’s wrist.

He’s close enough that Tony can hear Steve suck in a breath.

Steve looks at Tony, and Tony meets his gaze, challenging. Steve smirks, biting his lip before leaning close and kissing Tony. It’s mind-numbingly sweet—Steve’s lips are soft, and he uses his hand on Tony’s jaw to angle the kiss so they slot perfectly together. Tony parts his lips almost immediately and swallows down a moan when he feels Steve’s tongue in his mouth.

They pull away slowly, and Tony’s happy to see he’s not the only one who’s breathless.

“I’d ask if you wanted to get out of here,” Steve says, smiling at Tony. “But I figure you have a deadline coming up, right?”

“Who cares,” Tony says emphatically. He wants to keep kissing, wants to feel Steve’s skin, wants to maybe, finally—

“I care,” Steve says, eyebrow cocked. “Give me your number, and call me when you’ve turned that in.”

“You are unbelievable!” Tony hisses, but types his number into Steve’s phone anyway.

Steve laughs, and sends Tony a text. “Come on, let me walk you home or something,” he says, taking Tony’s bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

“First of all,” Tony splutters, following Steve out of the bar, “I can carry my own bag. Second of all, can we focus on ‘or something’?” Even though Tony suggests it, he’s already wincing at the idea of Steve in his room, especially given the state he’d left it in, all those hours ago.

Steve takes Tony’s hand in his. “Where to?”

Tony makes more disgruntled noises as a blush heats his cheeks. “You’re the worst,” he says, as he leads them to his apartment, which is thankfully, barely a block away.

“Do you wanna come in?” Tony asks hopefully, standing outside his door.

Steve grins and leans down to press a kiss to Tony’s cheek. “Next time, maybe.”

Tony pulls Steve in to kiss him properly, filthily, hoping that it gets the message across.

Steve squeezes Tony’s hand. “Come on, you’re a genius, aren’t you? I’m sure you’ve heard about delayed gratification,” he teases, right before raising Tony’s hand to his lips.

“Oh,” Tony says, all rebuttals whiting out of his brain at the tenderness of Steve’s lips on his knuckles.

Steve smirks up at him. “Yeah, oh. Go finish that paper, then we can talk.”

Tony makes a disbelieving noise, not knowing what words to say first, and Steve presses a kiss to Tony’s forehead. “Good night, Tony.”

He disentangles their fingers and gently pushes Tony towards his door. Tony keeps shaking his head, unable to wrap his mind around everything that’s happened.

“Good night, Steve,” he mumbles, finally turning around to open the door. He throws a glance over his shoulder and sees Steve walking backwards onto the sidewalk. He meets Tony’s gaze and waves.

  ***

 Three days later Tony meets Steve for dinner in a small Chinese restaurant.

“Hi,” Tony says tentatively. He’s dated, of course, back in high school, all those girls and boys that Howard would turn his nose up to. And in college, too, starting out with drunken kisses that turned to coffee dates, soured only when faced with Tony’s schedule and sleeping habits.

This feels—it feels new. Possible. Tony’s wrapping up his last semester and he only has his thesis to finish, and after that… Well, he’ll worry about after when he has to.

“Hey,” Steve says, grinning at Tony like he hung the sun. “Eaten here before?”

“Can’t say I have,” Tony says, eyeing the menu. “You order.”

Dinner is pleasant, Steve talks about his thesis project, and listens intently when Tony talks about his. He asks a lot of questions, and Tony can’t help but smile when Steve’s face looks so pensive, as if he’s trying to puzzle it out on his own.

“We don’t need to talk about it,” Tony says, as a waitress clears the table.

“I want to, if you want to,” Steve says earnestly. “It’s just so different, I can barely wrap my head around it.”

“Yeah,” Tony laughs. “Science, huh.”

Steve snorts, pays for dinner, and offers to walk Tony home.

“You wanna—” Tony starts, chewing on his lip.

“Yeah, for a bit,” Steve says. “Can’t stay up too late or I’ll be useless in class tomorrow.”

Tony laughs, leading Steve inside. “Can’t relate.”

“Yeah, what’s a proper sleeping schedule, right?” Steve teases.

They sit down on Tony’s couch and Tony clears his throat.

Steve huffs out a laugh, leans close to rest his hand on the back of Tony’s neck. “Been wanting to kiss you all night,” he murmurs.

“Good,” Tony says, before leaning up to press his lips against Steve’s.

The night devolves from there, Tony’s hand sliding up Steve’s shirt, Steve’s fingers carding through his hair. Tony’s about to reach down and undo Steve’s pants, Steve’s lips on his neck, sucking and biting, and through the haze of Tony’s groans, Steve pulls away with a start.

On the table, his phone is buzzing.

“Ah, fuck,” Steve says, picking up his phone.

“What is it?” Tony asks, a little annoyed at the disruption.

“I set an alarm for midnight,” Steve says sheepishly

“Why the fuck—”

 “Because we both have class tomorrow and—”

 “Just stay,” Tony says, pressing up closer to Steve. He kisses his neck and murmurs, “Stay and fuck me.”

Steve chokes, sputters, then clears his throat. “Next time,” he says, laughing a little, before kissing Tony on the lips and bidding him good night.

 ***

 There are a few more next times that culminate in heavy petting and Tony having to jack off on his bed when Steve leaves, but it all comes to a head one Saturday night when Steve invites him to a party at one of his friends’ houses.

“His name is Bucky,” Tony says, for the second time that night.

“Yes,” Steve answers with a sigh. “Yes, his name is Bucky, Tony. Jesus.”

Tony laughs. “What the fuck! That’s so weird. Like he never tried to change his nickname when he moved to college?”

“I may have had a hand in none of them ever sticking,” he says, laughing a little as he opens the door for Tony. Steve holds his hand as he guides them through the throng of people already inside, drinking and dancing and laughing. He finds his friends in the kitchen.

Tony stands to the side as Steve goes around hugging everyone in greeting, then Steve turns to him, beckons him closer and says, “This is Tony.”

Tony’s greeted by a chorus of “Hi, Tony!” and Steve introduces them all in turn; Natasha is leaning on the counter, smoking a cigarette. Sam is beside her, pouring shots. Bucky has his hand in a jar full of salsa, and declines to shake Tony’s hand.

They offer Tony a shot, and then a bottle of beer to chase it down.

 Tony’s drunk. He looks at the bottle of vodka in his hands, and sees how he has a few gulps left, so that explains why. Tony looks around the living room, still full of people, and oh, there’s a couple making out against the wall, that’s gross—

By the kitchen, Steve does a keg stand (he’s helped up by Bucky and Sam) and Tony is both horrified by the display, and turned on by the muscular lines of Steve’s stomach that had made an appearance when his shirt followed the force of gravity. The crowd cheers, and people pat Steve on the back as he makes his way toward Tony, a silly grin on his face. He collapses beside Tony on the couch, laughing and a little pink.

“Art major by day, frat boy by night,” Tony slurs, taking a swig before passing the bottle of Steve. Everything’s moving slowly.

“Even drunk, you’re still a smartass.” Steve laughs and wraps an arm around Tony’s waist. “C’mere,” he says, and pulls Tony into a searing kiss.

Tony follows easily, parts his lips open and paws at Steve’s chest. He’s wanted to kiss Steve all night, maybe has, once or twice, but not like this—wanton and reckless.

Tony shuffles to sit on Steve’s lap, and Steve lifts him almost effortlessly when he realizes what Tony wants to do. From this position it’s much nicer to kiss Steve, it lets him press up nice and close so they’re chest to chest. He runs his hands through Steve’s hair, then his shoulders, then his arms. Tony wants. He wants more. He wants it all.

“Fuck me,” Tony whispers, before making his point even clearer by nipping at Steve’s ear.

A laugh rumbles out of Steve as he takes Tony’s face in his hands. “Baby, you’re drunk.”

“Not that drunk,” Tony grumbles, grinding down hard on Steve’s lap.

Steve kisses him, but with less heat. “Still drunk,” he says.

Tony reaches over to take another swig of vodka, annoyed, and wakes up in his apartment, fully clothed.

“God damn it!” he yells, which only makes the pounding in his head worse.

 ***

  They’ve been dating for almost three months, now. “I can’t believe you picked me up in a bar,” Tony says, leaning his hip on the kitchen counter, watching as Steve makes them dinner.

“Well, imagine my shock when, after hyping myself up for thirty minutes, I found out that I couldn’t even buy you a drink.”

Tony laughs, taking a sip of Steve’s wine. “You were pretty slick,” he says fondly.

“Glad you think so,” Steve says, pulling out a spoon from the drawer and dips it into the sauce. He holds it out to Tony.

Tony opens his mouth and brightens immediately. “That’s good.”

“Good,” Steve says, turning off the burner. They’re silent as the pasta cooks in a different pot.

Tony takes a deep breath. He’s been thinking about how Steve has never—how they’ve never done anything below the belt, but have fallen asleep beside each other, or how Steve never really listens when Tony asks him to. He’s fretted about it more than once. And it’s not like they don’t have enough time alone, or that Steve doesn’t want Tony to see his place. He just doesn’t seem to want… that. Tony’s been trying to build up the courage to bring it up, but he’s worried that it might just drive Steve away, or make him think that that’s all Tony wants, which isn’t true, because Tony only has visual and literary references for what that could be like, so.

Steve hums to himself as he mixes the pasta in with the sauce and Tony hands him the plates.

“Steve,” Tony says, eyes on the pasta.

“Hm?” Steve replies, bringing the plates to the table. “Oh, bring the wine, please.”

Tony sits down across Steve and takes another deep breath.

“Tony,” Steve says, looking concerned. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Tony says immediately. “I mean, maybe? I don’t know?”

Steve nods and waits.

Tony shoves a forkful of pasta into his mouth. “This is delicious,” he says.

Steve nods, beginning to eat as well, but he looks at Tony occasionally, worry clear in his face.

“I can do the dishes!” Tony volunteers when they’re both done, because he’s a coward and can’t imagine how to even begin the conversation.

“It’s fine,” Steve says, taking the plates from Tony and dumping them into the sink. “Let’s talk.”

Tony slips out onto Steve’s balcony and lights a cigarette.

Steve leans against the wall.

When Tony turns to look at him, Steve is smiling at Tony in what Tony’s sure Steve thinks looks encouraging. But Tony can see the anxiety in Steve’s eyes.

“SO!” Tony says, clapping his hands together. “Dinner was great.”

“Thank you,” Steve says graciously.

“What do you want to talk about?” Tony asks.

“What do you want to talk about?” Steve asks.

Tony shrugs. “Well.”

Steve motions for Tony to continue.

“Thoughts on sex!” Tony says.

Steve coughs out a small cloud of smoke, and it takes him a moment to catch his breath. “What?”

“With me!” Tony adds, uselessly. It’s like something inside him has unhinged his jaw and now he can’t stop. “What are you thoughts on having sex with me!”

“I—” Steve sputters. “What?”

“Because we’ve never, and that’s weird, right? We should. Maybe. If you want! I’m down.”

Steve cradles his head in his hands. “What is happening?”

“Do you not want to? Because that’s cool too!” Tony says, pacing around. He takes a long drag off his cigarette.

“Of course I want to!” Steve says, exasperated.

Tony stops, turns to Steve, and stares.

“Then why—”

 “Because you’ve never done it before, Tony, and I don’t want to rush into things, and I don’t know if you’re the kind of person who cares about who they do it with for the first time, but I’m that kind of person, and I want you to be sure—to be sure, about me, I mean.”

Tony stares some more.

Steve raises a shaky hand and takes a drag. “I didn’t want you to feel that we had to have sex for this to work out.”

An emotion Tony can’t name rises up from his belly, fills his throat, and comes tumbling out of his mouth. “I fucking love you, you dumb log of a man,” Tony hisses.

Steve drops his cigarette at the same moment that Tony slaps his hand over his mouth.

A small laugh is beginning to bubble out of Steve, and he crosses the space between them in two large steps. He cups Tony’s jaw in his hand and uses the other to pry Tony’s hand off his mouth.

Steve is grinning ear to ear, and he laughs a little before he says, “I love you too, you gremlin masquerading as a human.” He kisses Tony, gentle and sweet and loving, and Tony melts into him, pulls him as close as he can, because wow, wow.

Steve leads them back into Tony’s apartment, bumping into his bookshelf as they wind their way to Tony’s room. “Not tonight,” Steve says, and Tony nods, dazed and more than happy to fall asleep in Steve’s arms.

  ***

 One of the nice things about Tony’s apartment is the way it catches the sun. When he wakes up, it’s to the sight of Steve leaning against his headboard, bathed in sunlight as he reads a magazine.

Tony sighs, content.

“Good morning,” Steve says, setting the magazine aside. “Sleep well?”

“Like a baby,” Tony admits, shuffling close and tilting his head up.

Steve huffs out a laugh and grants Tony’s unspoken request for a good morning kiss.

“Are we going to fuck now?” Tony asks, shifting to rest on his elbow.

“Are we?” Steve teases.

Tony pouces on top of Steve, pinning his hips down with his own. “Yes, please.”

Steve laughs, resting his hands on Tony’s waist. “Who am I to deny you?”

Tony kisses him, then makes his way down Steve’s neck. He’s seen videos, he knows what to do, or at least, sort of. “I want to…” Tony starts. “Could you just. Lie down?” Tony asks.

Steve nods.

“Tell me what feels good,” Tony says, and Steve nods again, understands that for now, Tony needs to be in control.

Steve is content to lie back and watch Tony, a faint blush dusting his cheeks and neck. He lets out a soft moan when Tony licks his collarbone, and Tony watches as Steve fists the sheets when he takes a tentative lick of Steve’s nipple.

“You like that?”

“Yes,” Steve grinds out.

“Okay,” Tony breathes out, and Steve shifts again. Tony bites his lip and blows at the stiff peak of Steve’s nipple.

“Jesus christ,” Steve curses.

Tony laughs a little to himself, then continues down Steve’s torso, licking at the muscles of Steve’s abs, until finally, he is stopped by Steve’s boxers.

Steve chews on his bottom lip.

Tony looks up at Steve. “Please?”

Steve continues to bite his lip as he raises his hips, hooks his fingers under the band, and slips off his shorts.

Tony stares. He’s never actually seen Steve’s cock until this moment, only felt it once or twice, and always through layers of Steve’s jeans. Nothing could have prepared him for this moment.

“I—hng,” Tony says, staring. He licks his lips. “You’re—” Tony sucks on his lower lip. “Wow.”

“We don’t have to—” Steve starts, looking worried.

“Oh, no, we do,” Tony says, “we absolutely must.”

Steve blushes. “Okay.”

“Please do not tell me that you’ve been putting off fucking me because you apparently have the biggest fucking dick in the world,” Tony says, crawling up to gaze down at Steve.

“No,” Steve lies.

Tony laughs and kisses him, swinging his leg over Steve’s hips and pressing his ass against Steve’s cock as he does.

“Can I fuck you,” Steve gasps out. He pushes Tony back so that Tony feels the entire length of Steve pressed against his ass, feels the way that his cheeks are pushed apart by the sheer girth of him.

“I don’t know,” Tony says, a panic seeping into his voice. “Can you??”

“Yeah,” Steve grins, sitting up. “But let me open you up real good first.”

“Holy. Fucking. God,” Tony says emphatically. “You have never sounded more hot than in that moment.”

Steve laughs, pulling Tony close to kiss him. “Looks like I have the rest of the morning to keep impressing you,” he murmurs.

Tony groans.

“I—I want,” Tony says. He reaches out and wraps his fingers around Steve’s cock tentatively. It’s so thick his fingers don’t meet as he encircles his girth. “Can I—?” he asks haltingly, moving back down to look at Steve’s cock, to really appreciate it.

Steve leans back. “I don’t know, can you?” He repeats, a lazy smirk on his lips.

Tony swallows. “Tell me if it’s good,” he says, lowering himself down. He takes a deep breath, and licks the head of Steve’s cock.

Steve groans. “That’s good,” he says, fingers winding around the sheets.

Tony parts his lips and takes it into his mouth. It’s intoxicating, to be this close to Steve, his cock heavy on Tony’s tongue, Steve’s musk permeating everything. Tony has to work to relax his jaw to take more of it in.

Above him, Steve is breathing unsteadily.

Tony breathes in through his nose and tries to go deeper, hyper aware of his teeth.

“That’s good, that’s so good,” Steve says, voice shaking a little. “If you want, with your tongue—“

Tony presses his tongue flat against the underside of Steve’s cock, making Steve groan. “Fuck, yes, Tony, that’s so good,” he babbles, clenching and unclenching his fist on the blanket.

Tony closes his eyes, tries to move his tongue around the silken heat. “Yes, yes, yes—oh,” Steve chants.

Tony lowers his mouth further, slowly, working to accommodate Steve’s cock, then it hits the back of his throat and Tony pulls up immediately.

“It’s too big,” Tony says. He’s surprised by how rough his voice sounds.

“You don’t need to put it all in your mouth,” Steve says, somehow still coherent, but his voice is a bit thready. He focuses his gaze on Tony. “You can use your hand, to help.”

Tony nods like a man on a mission, and takes Steve’s cock back into his mouth. He can feel Steve straining to stay still, and it sends a thrill down his spine.

He begins to pull up just as Steve’s cock hits the back of his throat again, but remembers what Steve said, and uses his hand to follow the motion.

“Oh fuck,” Steve moans. His eyes are trained on Tony’s lips. Tony notices and winks, making Steve groan and look away.

“You’re doing so well,” he breathes out. He threads his fingers through Tony’s hair, and Tony moans at the touch—Steve tightens his grip, and Tony moans some more.

Tony settles into a rhythm as he bobs up and down Steve’s cock; he squeezes his eyes shut as he focuses on Steve’s pleasure. Then he notices that Steve is canting his hips up, following Tony’s movements. Tony groans, wrapping his fingers tighter around Steve’s cock.

Steve makes a broken noise above him and pulls Tony away. “Stop,” he says, just as Tony makes a small noise of disapproval.

“But—“ Tony starts. Steve leans over to kiss him, which, hot, given where Tony’s mouth just was.

“My turn,” Steve says, flipping Tony easily on to his back.

“Hey!” Tony says, but quiets when Steve slides his hands down Tony’s sides and kisses him again. Tony’s so lost in how good it feels to kiss Steve that he barely notices that Steve has lifted his hips up and slid his shorts off him.

“You were so good,” Steve says, before kissing him again, and Tony’s overwhelmed by everything happening seemingly all at once: he’s overwhelmed by how good it feels to be naked around Steve, how it feels to have Steve’s bare skin pressed against his, how it feels to have Steve’s cock thick against his thigh, how it feels to have Steve’s mouth on him.

Steve’s hand is warm on his chest, and Tony nearly jolts out of the bed when Steve tweaks his nipple. “Fuck,” Tony breathes out, because holy fuck, Steve’s kissed his neck before, but this feels too much. He surprises himself with the whimper that comes out of his mouth when Steve licks down his chest and sucks on his nipple.

“Like that?” Steve asks, and Tony can’t find the words, can’t find any words at all to express how he fucking loves it.

Steve grins up at him, kisses and nips down Tony’s chest.

“I’m going to suck your cock now,” Steve says, looking up at Tony.

“Okay,” Tony says, because what else could anyone say to that?

Steve smiles, presses a kiss to Tony’s hip, and without any warning, slides Tony’s cock into his mouth.

“Oh my fucking—oh, ah, fucking fuck,” Tony groans, hands flying to find purchase. He mirrors Steve’s actions and threads his fingers through Steve’s hair. It’s wildly erotic, feeling Steve’s head bob up and down his cock, and all Tony can do is watch, transfixed, as Steve sucks him down to the base, and pulls up to suckle at the tip.

Tony doesn’t even know what he’s saying, or if he’s saying anything at all, moaning and groaning at the sheer pleasure of it all.

Steve pulls away with a lewd sounding pop and he looks up at Tony.

Tony stares down at him, dumbstruck.

“All right?” Steve asks.

“Fuck,” Tony breathes out.

Steve laughs, the bastard, and licks a bead of precum off of Tony’s cock. Tony groans.

“Lube?” Steve asks.

Tony swallows and tries to get control of himself. His legs feel like jelly and he wants Steve’s mouth on him again, so he says so.

“Soon, baby,” Steve coos. “Lube first.”

Tony digs around his drawer and feels the bed dip. He turns over his shoulder to check and Steve holds up a pack of condoms in response.

Tony nods, and goes back to searching, stopping only when Steve moves up to kiss his shoulder, his back. “You having fun?”

“Yes,” Tony says shakily. He holds up the tube in triumph, then hands it to Steve.

“More fun in a bit,” Steve says, taking it from him.

Tony huffs out a laugh, and Steve pulls him in for a kiss. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he says, looking at Tony right in the eye.

“I won’t want you to stop,” Tony says, suddenly embarrassed by how earnest Steve’s tone was. Besides, he’d been looking forward to this for literally months.

“Promise that you’ll tell me,” Steve says, taking Tony’s chin in his hand, making Tony meet his gaze.

“Okay, I will,” Tony says, biting his lip.

“Good boy,” Steve smiles, and presses a quick kiss to Tony’s lips before settling back on the bed. “Lie down.”

“Oh my god,” Tony murmurs, but does so anyway. “Should I…?” Tony trails off, not really knowing what to say. The sudden break to search for lube has given his brain enough time to boot up and thus, freak out a little.

“Just relax and let me take care of you,” Steve says, smiling up at Tony.

“You sure?” Tony asks.

Steve’s smile widens. “Yes, Tony. Let me.” He presses a kiss to Tony’s knee, then moves up so he’s hovering just above Tony. He crooks a finger at Tony, beckoning him closer.

Tony leans up, and Steve kisses him, soft and gentle at first, then more passionately when Tony reaches up and touches him.

“It’s easier if you’re on your knees,” Steve says. “That okay with you?”

“Yeah,” Tony says, mirroring Steve’s smile.

Steve leans back and Tony gets on all fours. Steve takes a pillow and places it under Tony’s hips.

“You can rest on your elbows, if it gets too much,” Steve says gently.

“It won’t,” Tony says, sounding much more self-assured than he feels.

Steve huffs out a laugh. “Okay, I’m going to slide a finger in, okay?”

“Okay,” Tony says, looking over his shoulder. He watches with baited breath as Steve slicks up a finger.

“Try and relax for me, okay?”

“Okay,” Tony says, breathing out slowly.

Steve presses a kiss on the apple of Tony’s ass and presses at Tony’s hole.

Tony holds back a gasp as Steve inches it in slowly. It doesn’t feel particularly bad, but it doesn’t feel particularly good, either.

“You’re doing great,” Steve says, moving in and out, and Tony breathes, all anxious anticipation. “I’m going to open you up some more with a second finger, okay?”

“Mmhmm,” Tony says. He closes his eyes and tries to focus on the feeling of Steve’s hands. He has his other resting on Tony’s hip, holding him in place. The second finger proves to have the same effect, and Tony tries not to feel weird about it, and he’s about to ask Steve, should this be feeling good or…?

Except Steve chooses that moment to crook his fingers, hitting that one spot in Tony that makes him see stars. Tony lets out a strangled yelp, and his elbows buckle beneath him.

“There it is,” Steve says, sounding very smug. Tony’s too blissed out to snark back, because Steve keeps rubbing his finger over the spot. All Tony can do is groan.

“Third finger,” Steve says gently, and this—this makes Tony moan, loudly, surprised at how pleasurable the stretch felt.

“Oh god, Steve,” Tony breathes out, rocking his hips back.”That’s—” Tony lets out a strangled groan when Steve spreads his fingers inside him, stretching him even further.

“Good?” Steve asks, pressing a soft kiss on Tony’s lower back.

“Yes,” Tony moans out. “Yes!” he cries, when he feels all three of Steve’s fingers press against that one special spot. Steve keeps fucking his fingers into Tony until Tony’s dissolved into a writhing, moaning mess beneath him.

“Fuck me,” Tony breathes out, “please, please, please fuck me already.”

“You sure?” Steve asks.

“Yes,” Tony hisses.

Steve huffs out a laugh, and his fingers make a lewd sound as he slips them out of Tony. It makes Tony shiver.

Tony feels boneless already, but musters enough strength to look back at Steve, who is rolling a condom on.

“Surprised it fits,” Tony mumbles.

Steve looks up at him, startled, and then blushes furiously.

Tony grins and shakes his hips. “I’m ready,” he says.

Steve chuckles a little, then rests his hand back on Tony’s thigh. “Tell me, okay?”

“I will,” Tony says, rolling his eyes. “Come on.”

“You are so impatient,” Steve says, sounding both annoyed and impressed.

Tony’s about to make another quip but sucks in a breath when he feels the thick head of Steve’s cock press against his hole.

“Oh,” Tony says. He breathes out, trying to relax. Then he feels the ridge of Steve’s cock finally broach the entrance of his hole and Tony nearly screams.

“Holy, fucking—oh my god, oh god, Steve—” Tony groans, turning to press his face into the matress to try and muffle the sounds he’s making.

“I got you,” Steve says, voice tight. “You’re doing so well for me, Tony, you’re doing so good, god, you feel so good already,” Steve says, gripping Tony’s hip.

Tony lets out a long, shaky breath as he feels Steve continue to slide slowly inside him. He bites his lip, and whimpers. “Steve, oh my god, you’re going to break me in half,” he says, breaths coming out short. It’s deliciously excruciating, it feels so good that it almost hurts with how good it feels.

“Halfway there, sweetheart,” Steve murmurs, now rubbing circles on Tony’s hip.

“H-halfway?” Tony chokes out. He can’t tell how much more he can take. Then he feels Steve’s cock press against that same place as earlier and it pushes a moan out of Tony, and now he’s fully lost control of himself, he’s drooling on the sheets, it feels so good, it feels unreal, Tony is going to die on Steve’s cock and that’s okay—

“You’re not going to die,” Steve says, halting Tony’s thoughts. “But keep talking.”

Tony huffs in response, because honestly words are impossible right now, and Steve still hasn’t bottomed out, Steve is still fully stuffing his ass with his big fucking cock and—

“You have the filthiest mouth,” Steve groans. “Are you sure you’ve never been fucked before?”

“Oh I am sure,” Tony manages, before he groans again. His breaths are shaky, short, and his eyes keep falling shut on their own volition; all his focus is spent on the feeling of Steve spreading him open.

Steve groans when his hips finally hit Tony’s ass.

Tony’s too dazed to say anything; he’s breathing through his mouth, and nothing else matters.

Steve rocks against him gently, and Tony nearly cries out. He’s so full, stretched so wide open, it feels amazing.

“Hn—fuck,” Tony breathes out, once he’s finally centered himself.

“I’m going to start fucking you now,” Steve grinds out. “You’re so fucking tight, Tony.”

Tony moans. “I’m going to die because of your cock.”

“Not yet you won’t,” Steve says, and Tony bites back a whine when Steve begins to pull out. “So fucking good,” Tony groans, “your cock feels so fucking good.”

Tony loses himself to the sound of Steve’s skin slapping against his—erotic and physical and wild; Tony feels unhinged, and when Steve adjusts his angle and begins to pound into his prostate, Tony feels his soul ripped out of his body. He’s sure that he’s crying, whimpering, clutching at the sheets, and it doesn’t help that every time Steve fucks him, his own cock gets some relief, pressed against the pillow Steve had put under Tony’s hips in what feels like years ago.

“Oh, god, yes, yes, there,” Tony chants, before biting down on the bed to muffle his screams. It feels like Steve’s hands are everywhere, sliding up and down his sides, tweaking his nipples, and then Tony screams when Steve pushes his cheeks apart, holds his ass open with his thumbs.

“Fucking gorgeous, you’re taking my cock so fucking well,” Steve says, “god you’re so fucking tight, Tony, it’s like your ass was made for my cock,” and holy christ who taught Steve to talk like that.

Tony groans, shifting back a little so he can fuck himself onto Steve’s cock. It seems to punch a groan out of Steve, and Tony feels a little better about being a drooling, quivering mess for however long Steve’s been destroying his ass.

Steve lifts up Tony’s hips a little, his grip tight, and Tony only has a moment to realize the shift in position before Steve’s hand is on his cock and that is it, it’s over, Tony has officially died and gone to heaven, because this is for sure what heaven is: Steve’s cock buried to the hilt in his ass, Steve’s hand squeezing and pumping his cock, and Tony’s moans reverberating in his ears as he finally, finally comes.

It only takes what Tony assumes to be a moment—because what is time, after such a religious experience—before Steve comes with broken sound. It’s wild that Tony can feel Steve’s cock twitching inside him, and Steve stays for a moment until it gets truly, finally, too much.

Steve collapses on the bed beside Tony, and Tony rolls onto his back.

“You okay?” Steve asks, turning to look at Tony. He brushes Tony’s hair away from his forehead and leans close to press a kiss to Tony’s cheek.

“Holy god damn shit,” Tony breathes out, finally getting his bearings.

“Enjoyed it, then?” Steve asks, grinning.

Tony turns to Steve and smiles, exhausted. “I need to take a nap. And then I need you to fuck me again.”

Steve laughs and pulls Tony into a kiss. “Yes, sir.”

[anthropologyapologist]

I don't know what I'm doing with my life/academic career. After the catastrophe of the Spring 2020 pandemic semester where I failed my lab class because that thing was so much more tough online and it was already a tough class in person (someone told me that that class basically broke them cuz the professor is rly stern). After that semester I took the rest of 2020 off since the following Fall semester they didn't offer any classes that I needed and I only need about 4 classes plus my thesis to graduate my MA program.

Then the Spring 2021 semester there was finally one class for me to take. I struggled with it, dealt with my adhd and depression medication tryouts, and barely passed it but I passed it and that's all that matters. Looks like there are no classes for me this Fall 2021 semester but i have signed up for a hands on archaeological methods field class at the local community college because I need hands on exp and I've had no luck with field schools. I also signed up for a GIS class cuz that could be useful for an archaeology job.

But during all of this time I haven't been able to even start writing my thesis. I haven't had a chance to actually look at the collection that I decided to work on because the pandemic shut everything down and the archaeological society that has the collections has been closed. I need to transfer the collection to the university so I can finally see if this collection is even worth writing a thesis on. Kinda wanna switch my topic at this point but I have no idea what to do.

My committee chair hasn't responded to my emails in a while. As far as I know he hasn't been responding to anyone else's either. I am now entering the 4th year of my program (supposed to be a 3 year program) even though I was on track to graduate by the past Spring semester (spring 2021) if the pandemic hadn't happened. Last summer I was supposed to do my field school and write my thesis draft. Finish up my classes in the Fall of 2020, with one class in Spring 2021 and to continue working on my thesis and graduate. But none of that happened and I just feel so hopeless.

I'm looking for work so that i can do something but I haven't heard back. The museum I was volunteering at before the pandemic is hiring so I'm hoping they hire me since I won't need to be trained and it's a state parks job so good for networking. Also throwing applications out to other museum gift stores because I'm literally looking for anything semi related to anthropology. Can't do any archaeology field jobs cuz I don't have the hands on experience but I'll get that done in the next few months and hopefully that opens a few more doors.

I guess writing this out made me realize that I kind of have a plan but it just seems really small. I just wanna be able to save up some money and move out, be on my own and not having my parents support me because it's become a really toxic home life with my parents berating me for any little mistake and never being appreciative of the fact that I literally do everything for them from making sure all the bills are paid on time, doing the secretary work for my dad's business and basically being a parent to my younger brother (I deal with all his school stuff, registration, deadlines, all the paperwork and conferences and I take him everywhere).

I'm just so tired and stressed out and I feel like my life isn't going anywhere.