#i really fucking hope this was the hardest content lecture of the semester

[extemporaneousmusings]

12/6/23

Pictured: a sketchy lil map I made for my class with the major Bronze Age Civilizations designated

Today I:

-spent the entire fucking day synthesizing prehistory from the Paleolithic Period --> the Bronze Age Collapse in the Middle East and Eastern Mediterranean. This is not my area of expertise, and in fact covers like 5 different distinct fields of study that I am not presently getting a PhD in. But I think my lecture is super solid and much better than the examples I was working off

-didn’t have to do anything for dinner, E took care of it entirely

-am going to wind down reading a wesper fic Jamila recced me!

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 5: Logicality

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 5 - Any intense emotions your soulmate feels you will also experience.

Content Warning: strong emotion (duh), yelling, food mentions (one line).

Word count: 1.8k

He remembered back in high school, when things had gotten rough for him. Not that they had a reason to. Virgil had told him countless times that it was okay that he didn’t have a reason, he was allowed to feel sad just because, but his childhood friend’s words meant nothing during the times he was curled up on his bed at three am with a black hole in his chest, quietly sobbing apologies to the soulmate that could certainly feel his sadness as intensely as he did. If it was just him suffering, it wouldn’t have been so bad. 

When university began, and his mental health began to improve, Patton was giddy. It took him a few months to adjust to missing his family, getting used to the crowded dorms, and the increased pressure of classes. Except now the classes were about things he really enjoyed, clearly pushing him forward in his Psychology career, and the people were so much nicer than in highschool. Bullies didn’t really… exist in college, not the way they did back there, and he found himself flourishing. 

But now, no longer constantly focused on his mental health and that alone, a part of him, deep inside, was a little bit worried that he didn’t even have a soulmate. He never really felt the strong emotions his friends claimed to feel, emotions clearly detached from them but oh so real. Virgil was privy to spurts of pure courage, almost ecstasy, that would have him jumping off his bed to pace on the floor with a huge grin stretched across his face, trying to dispel the energy. Janus, a friend he made in one of his psych classes, sometimes talked about the negative emotions he got from his soulmate, the surges of hatred and bitterness that made him curl his slender fingers around the nearest object until it snapped or his fingers cramped up. The borrowed emotion, both good and bad, were something Patton hadn’t experienced yet, and the implications of that frightened him. He wanted a soulmate so badly… he would be crushed if he didn’t have one.

These were the thoughts rushing through his mind as the three of them walked into Philosophy 109, Virgil and Janus having an animated conversation about last classes homework. Something about Karl Marx; he wasn’t sure what they were torn about, exactly. He always had a tough time listening in this class, not due to the content of the lectures, but just because something about the prof set him on edge. Virgil offered that ‘his voice is kind of irritating’ and Janus pitched in that ‘his slides are always sloppy’, but none of that was quite… it. It wasn’t anything he could put a finger on, but just walking into the classroom had him stewing slightly. 

Just as Janus was seemingly reaching the peak of his arguments, hands waving wildly, Virgil dug his elbow into Patton’s ribs.

“Hey, did you want to get dinner after class or wait until before English?”

The elbow in his side hurt, and before he realized what he was doing, Patton had shoved Virgil off of him. The shorter man stumbled, nearly knocking into the professor that had just walked into the room before catching his balance. His brows furrowed.

“Dude, you good?” 

Patton’s eyes widened, almost comically, “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I don’t know where that came from. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Virgil glanced at Janus, who merely shrugged, “Class is about to start.” He gestured meekly at their usual table and they sat, Patton taking the aisle spot before Janus could. Another look was shared between the other two. Patton was usually overly eager to sit in the middle, giggling at Virgil’s snarky notes and stealing Janus’ snacks, but right now he felt on edge. Defensive. Angry. 

Huh- that was new.

His leg shook under the table as the professor greeted the class, nearly knocking Virgil’s travel mug off the table if it weren’t for his quick reflexes. He was running frantically through his mind, trying to find the trigger that had caused his anger. The day so far had been nothing unusual; morning classes and lunch at the cafeteria (grilled cheese, heck yeah), study session with the dorm in the lawn outside his building. Nothing had gone wrong, and even if this prof wasn’t his favorite, it wasn’t anything he couldn't get over so why-

Oh.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, it occurred to him that these weren’t his feelings. This wasn’t him. And that thought alone should have snapped him out of it, should have made him jump up and dance on the table because oh my goodness he actually has a soulmate, his worries were for nothing!

Except he couldn’t. Virgil’s concerned glances were increasing in frequency as his pen dug into his paper, trying his hardest to concentrate on the lecture over the raging blood in his ears. His teeth hurt, and he realized he was clenching his jaw hard enough to bite through rock. His leg still jittered, his notes were becoming more sloppy, and for the love of god, if this prof doesn’t stop talking I’m going to-

“WILL YOU SHUT THE HELL UP ALREADY?”

At first, Patton thought he was the one who said it. His note paper had been ripped from his notebook, crumpled beneath his fist, and Virgil and Janus sure both looked shocked enough. But then the voice continued, coming from the back of the class.

“You’re a terrible professor, are you aware of that?! Did you get your teaching degree from a fucking Dollar Store?! I’m surprised you graduated middle school, you half-witted, socially insensitive, entitled, piece of-”

“Mr. Starr, out of my classroom! Now!” The prof bellowed, causing Virgil to shrink into his hoodie. The man flew past the three of them, slamming the door behind him. Patton didn’t even realize he was following him, water bottle in hand, until the prof tried to call him back to his seat, which he ignored. 

That was his soulmate, he was sure of it. 

By the time he was standing in the empty hallway, his rage had started to calm down. His hand was starting to unfurl, leaving red crescents in his palms from his nails, but he could still feel the simmering anger rolling and lapping at his insides. Curling around his stomach, pushing at his heart, twisting in his fingertips like a flag in a gentle wind. 

A slam down the hallway reminded Patton of what he’d set out to do, and he took off after the sound, hoping and praying that he wouldn’t lose the man he was chasing. After that freak-out, he wouldn’t be surprised if the man dropped the class, since he obviously hated the prof so much. And he didn’t get a good enough look at him, so if he lost him now, who’s to say when he would find him again? 

Patton exited the building, assuming this was the door he’d heard a moment ago, panting slightly. He surveyed the parking lot desperately, the lawn surrounding the building, the walkways leading across the campus like vines, and… yes! There he was, standing against one of the trees, head tucked to his chest, hands shoved into his pockets almost aggressively. 

This is stupid, what are you even going to say? He pondered as he crossed the grass quickly, sizing up the man in front of him. Black button up, blue jeans, hair pushed out of his face, and Patton was reminded of just how gay he was. This man was gorgeous, in an I-could-kill-you kind of way. 

He didn’t acknowledge Patton as he approached, but he could see the man watching him out of the corner of his eye suspiciously. Wordlessly, Patton handed him the bottle of water, trying to hide a smile when he took it hesitantly, popping the top off and taking a sip.

“Thank you.”

“No problem,” Patton squeaked, taking it back when he was done.

“I didn’t expect anyone to follow me.”

“Well…” He gestured to himself lightly, giggling, “I’m here.”

The man stood his ground, seemingly uncomfortable with the attention, “You don’t have to stay. I wouldn’t want you to fall behind.”

“Nonsense!” Patton grinned, “I’ll just steal a friend’s notes. Plus, I’m sure you need someone to talk to.”

“I don’t want to bother you-”

“I’m not bothered! I’m serious. Sit down.” Patton gestured at the ground, flopping down onto the lawn. He looked at him warily, like he was weighing the pros and cons in his head, before joining him, leaning against the tree.

“I’m Patton, by the way.”

“Logan.” 

“Nice to meet ya, Logan! So, why d'ya scream at Jacobson like that?” He said it lightly, but he didn’t miss the slight wince from the other. 

“I’m sorry you had to see that. I’m not generally one to lose my temper. It’s just…” He looked like he wanted to apologize more, stop talking, like he was being a nuisance. Patton gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile and a nod, which seemed to be enough to spur the other on.

 “I can’t stand him. He injects his own philosophies and values into the concepts we’re studying, and it muddles the main ideologies to the point where it’s hardly about the original topic anymore. It’s as if he’s teaching a course on himself.”

“Why don’t you just drop it?” He hadn’t meant it to sound so cutting, but if Logan was bothered, he didn’t show it in the small shake of his head.

“I need the credit. And by the time I realized how flawed his lessons are, it was past the drop date. I didn’t have time to fill out the paperwork, so I figured I’d muscle through it.”

“Well… it is half way through the semester, so you did pretty good.”

He murmured something under his breath that Patton didn’t catch, something that sounded suspiciously like ‘not good enough’, before looking up to meet Patton’s eyes for the first time. Boy oh boy, if Patton hadn’t been able to breathe before, he was fairly certain he would die at this point. 

“Why did you follow me?”

It was at that point that it occurred to Patton: he had no proof. Sure, the rise and peak of his mysterious anger coincided perfectly with Logan’s outburst, but if their interaction so far was anything to go by, this guy wouldn’t fully trust something that wasn’t one hundred percent factual. Claiming to be his soulmate might just scare him away, and for all that was good and holy, Patton didn’t want that to happen. So… he’d waited nineteen years to meet his soulmate, he could take it slow. Bring up his history with depression, the emotions that Logan must have felt at the same time, and maybe, hopefully, let him come to his own conclusions. He wasn’t in a rush.

“I just thought you might want a friend.”