#semester starts soon so I won’t have time to make art on mondays. thank god

[ra-vio]

Two-Bee

[everybodyscupoftea]

the art of making a move at a kegger

jj x reader

word count: 2877

warnings: drinking, cursing, and towards the end almost sexual content but not actually

synopsis: harboring feelings for jj + getting drunk doesn’t always equal the smoothest of times but it all works out in the end

requested by @maybebanks​ really hope you like it!

JJ wasn’t on your radar until he slept through three quizzes in a row during your 8:00 a.m. English freshman year. He sat across from you, and you thought he was pretty cute, even when he started showing up wearing Pike letters. Which coincidentally is when he started falling asleep during quizzes.

One morning, when the professor left the room and you were packing your backpack, you heard JJ clear his throat. You glanced up, unsure if it was for you or not, and caught him smiling at you sheepishly.

“Hey,” he mumbled, running a hand through his unruly hair, “I was wondering if you had the readings for Thursday, I lost the syllabus.”

You pulled out your planner, “Yeah, it’s Act 3 of Hamlet and a part from the textbook on dramatic irony, pages 176-179.”

He quickly jotted it down on the corner of his notebook and smiled tiredly at you, “Thanks so much, I can’t keep failing these fucking quizzes, my grade is cheeks right now.”

“Is everything okay?” you cautiously asked, you didn’t want to push but you were a little concerned about the cute boy.

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair again, “Hazing shit, they’re making the new pledges stay up. I haven’t slept a full night in two weeks.”

“That’s, uh,” you weren’t really sure what to say, “not okay?” You settled on.

With a shrug, he tugged his backpack up and pushed in his chair, “Yeah, well, I guess it comes with being a legacy.” And then he was gone.

After that first interaction, you and JJ chatted every so often. Sometimes you’d let him cheat off your quizzes because they were pointless anyway and sometimes, you’d ask your professor to repeat one of the questions so he could get a second chance to answer if he was running late.

The last day of the semester he brought you coffee, “I just wanted to thank you for everything this semester, and I was hoping I could get your number so we can keep in touch.”

The next semester you had two classes together, much to your shock. When the two of you started to hang out outside of class to study for statistics, you learned some stuff about him. He was from the Outer Banks and he had a rough childhood. He was also receiving the Pell Grant so school was totally paid for, his only expense was the frat.

You also learned that the two of you were the same major and had to take all of the same courses, so the two of you decided to try and register for some of the same classes. It didn’t always work out, you had priority scheduling as a note taker for at least one class every semester and sometimes when JJ went to schedule, your section was already full. But sometimes it did work out.

Either way, the two of you always studied together. You used to go back and forth between apartments, one week was yours and one was JJ’s, until he moved into the frat house and no work was meant to be done in those walls. That atmosphere was conducive to parties only, something else JJ loved.

One afternoon, fall of your sophomore year, JJ balled up a piece of paper and threw it at you. It bounced off your forehead landed in your open coffee cup, and you looked up and glared at him, “Was that necessary?”

He gave you an innocent look, “Do you have plans next weekend?”

“I mean, we have a test the next Monday so I’ll probably be studying.”

JJ took the last sip of his coffee, “I have a formal and I need a date, wanna go?”

“Not particularly,” you responded with a shrug.

“No strings attached,” JJ told you, “promise. My friend from home, Kie, normally comes with me, but she has her own shit to do, and me and you get along. If you don’t go, I’ll have to take a stranger and then I’ll be bored.”

You’d been to some of the parties his frat threw, you knew he wouldn’t really be bored all night, he just didn’t want to have to actually work to get a date. Not that he’d have to work hard, his good looks would pretty much guarantee him a date. But you were a little intrigued, so you agreed.

“Great,” he told you, clapping his hands, “let me know what color your dress is and I’ll get a matching tie.”

“Fancy,” you told him with a smile.

“Kie loves matching, she’ll be proud,” JJ responded, and it made you really curious about Kie and the rest of his friends, but you didn’t ask.

Eventually you would get to meet them. JJ invited you to go home with him for spring break and he showed you around the Outer Banks, took you surfing, and threw a party that almost rivaled the ones his frat normally threw. Meeting his friends was nice, but really getting to know JJ was nicer. That’s when you started to complicate the ‘no strings attached’ deal, you felt yourself catching feelings.

By the time senior year rolled around, you were the most tired you’ve ever been. School was hard, having a job while doing school was harder and your social life was suffering. You still hung out with JJ a lot, mostly to study or to unwind and just watch TV, but he was really the only person you spent time with on a regular basis other than your coworkers.

Late on a Saturday afternoon, you were already in your pajamas, studying for an anatomy test, when there was a knock at your apartment door. Startled, you wrapped the blanket you were sitting under tightly around your shoulders and cautiously walked to the door. Peering through the peephole, you saw JJ standing there, looking at something on his phone.

You threw the door open, “What are you doing here?”

He looked up and smiled, “I’m here to kidnap you.”

“What?” you asked blankly, not really in the mood.

JJ pushed his way past you and sat on a barstool before answering, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how miserable you’ve been lately. When’s the last time you went out?”

And, God, when was the last time you’d done something fun? You sighed, “Fuck, I don’t know, like maybe a month ago when we went to that basketball game.”

With a hum, JJ stood up, “Get dressed, Pike’s throwing a kegger tonight.”

You didn’t even think twice before tossing the blanket onto the couch and going to your closet to find something to wear. JJ turned the TV on while you got fully dressed, minus makeup. Peeking your head out, you caught JJ’s attention, “Can I do my makeup at the house?”

He nodded, “Yeah. You almost ready because I’ve gotta pick up the keg soon?”

“Let’s go.”

JJ locked the door behind you and the two of you walked to his truck. The music blasted as soon as he cranked it up and he turned it down with a sheepish smile, “My bad, the song playing when I got here was a banger.”

Plugging your phone in, you put on the collaborative playlist you and JJ made together. He turned it back up a little and peeled out of the parking lot to the nearest liquor store where his frat normally got their kegs.

You bought cups at the convenience store next door while JJ loaded the keg into his truck, and a few pods because you were low and JJ was almost always out. JJ was leaning against the truck when you met him back in the shared parking lot, and he handed you a Twisted Tea, “For accompanying me on this adventure, madam.”

“Thank you, kind sir,” you responded, cracking it open and took a deep sip before climbing back into the truck to head to the frat house.

JJ left you to finish getting ready while he helped everyone set up for the party. You joined him eventually, having finished your first drink, and helped lock all bedroom doors and put all valuables away.

By the time people started arriving you were happily tipsy, hanging onto JJ while he talked to some of his friends, sipping beer slowly out of your assigned cup at the house. You were over there enough that you’d claimed one of your own and all the other guys that lived there respected it for the most part.

The party started to pick up and one of JJ’s frat brothers called you over to attempt a keg stand. You’d always wanted to try but never had, so you handed JJ your cup and kicked your feet up, trusting the two guys were ready to catch you. They did and someone put the spout into your mouth.

A crowd gathered around you and started counting loudly. You made it all the way to a minute before kicking to be let down. Slowly the two guys lowered your feet and your vision swam while beer bubbled in your throat. You almost choked but managed to swallow while everyone cheered around you. JJ wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “Not bad for a first time!”

He topped your cup off and guided you away. You cleared your throat, “Thought I was gonna puke for a second there.”

“You turned a little green when you first came down, how you feeling now though?”

“Feeling fantastic,” you told him earnestly, swaying in place.

JJ chuckled, grabbing your shoulders, “You got plans tomorrow?”

“Anatomy.”

“So that’s a no, I won’t cut you off then.”

“Don’t cut me off, please,” you told him seriously, trying to focus on his face.

He gave you a little two finger salute, “Aye aye madam.”

You lost track of how many drinks you had as the night went on. Sometime during the night, JJ disappeared and came back with something besides beer for you which was really nice and you thanked him with a kiss on the cheek. He just laughed and squeezed your shoulder before going off to talk to someone else.

When the party started winding down, you attempted to find the Uber app on your phone to call a ride home. JJ tapped your shoulder, startling you, and in your clumsy, intoxicated state, you dropped your phone. It slid out of your eyesight and you glared at him, “Pick it up, J.”

“What are you doing?” he asked, amused.

“Goin home, party’s over.”

“Why don’t you just stay here?”

“Can’t make it up the stairs,” you told him seriously.

JJ raised his eyebrows, “You live on the second floor of your apartment building, at least here you have me to help you up the stairs.”

He had you there. So, you nodded and he took you to the kitchen for a clean cup. JJ filled it with water and made you drink two before leading you to the stairs. You lifted your foot to put it on the first step and almost fell over. JJ reached out but you shushed him, as if his silence would help you focus more on not falling over.

On the second try, you managed to climb up one step and immediately shuffled close to the wall so you could lean your whole body against it for balance while attempting to climb. It was a really slow process, but you were too stubborn to ask for help, and JJ knew better than to try to help you when you were feeling stubborn.

JJ stayed one step below you to help in case you started to fall backwards. Eventually you made it all the way up and immediately forgot which door led to his room. Huffing a laugh, JJ grabbed your wrist and led you to the second one on the left.

You sat down on the bed and went pretty much boneless at the comfort of finally not being on your feet.

“Fucks sake, dude,” JJ muttered, pushing you up into a sitting position.

“No,” you whined, fighting to lay back down.

It wasn’t hard for JJ to keep you sitting up, “You’re going to be so pissed if you wake up in your clothes with makeup on, you need to change and get ready for bed.”

He was right again, but you didn’t have the comprehension level to remember how to do that so you shrugged in response. JJ sighed and helped you kick your shoes off before going to get you a change of clothes from his drawers. You somehow managed to get your shirt off and your shorts unbuttoned, but he had to help you get the new shirt on and change shorts.

The guy JJ shared a bathroom with’s girlfriend left makeup wipes and JJ helped you get all your makeup off. You kept making faces to be difficult because you liked the furrow between his eyebrows as he tried to focus on being gentle.

“I will intentionally poke you in the eyeball if you do not stop,” he warned.

Pouting, you poked his cheek, “Don’t bully me, I’m drunk.”

He threw the wipe away and looked at you exasperatedly, “Brush your teeth, your breath smells like a liquor store.”

Giggling, you grabbed your spare toothbrush from the drawer next to his and sloppily started brushing your teeth. JJ was standing behind you and leaning on you, trapping you between the counter and his body so you didn’t fall over or sway.

The bright bathroom lights plus the water were clearing your brain a little, but you were still gone and not really able to focus on anything for more than a few seconds at a time. You leaned back to feel his chest moving as he brushed his teeth and giggled at the feeling.

JJ sighed again and gently nudged you out of the way to spit and rinse in the sink and you followed suit, having forgotten to do so yourself. You followed him out of the bathroom and grabbed his hand as he led you back to his room.

From what you could remember, JJ slept on the left, so you climbed into the right side of his bed and stretched out comfortably. He crawled in behind you a few minutes later, and you turned around to look at him. He had a small smile on his face as he looked back at you and reached up to push a piece of hair that had fallen in your eyes out of the way.

Suddenly, you were overcome by the urge that you’d been fighting for over a year and you leaned forward to kiss him. He froze and you almost regretted it until he started kissing you back.

You stayed like that for what felt like hours but could’ve only been minutes until he rolled the two of you over so you were on your back and he was hovering over you. Your lips were only separated for a few seconds before he was kissing you again, more deeply than before.

Sighing into the kiss, you brought a hand up to his head and ran your fingers through his hair. He groaned lightly at the feeling and you felt a hand creeping up your thigh. Before it could get too far, you nudged his shoulders back to catch your breath. He kept stroking your thigh and you shifted, “Hey, can we wait maybe?”

“Wait for what?” JJ asked you, confused.

“To fuck,” you told him bluntly.

JJ huffed out a surprised laugh, “Oh, uh, yeah definitely.”

You grinned at him sheepishly, “Sorry, you’re my best friend and if we’re going to do this, I want to be sober and you know, really ready.”

“Right, yeah, I totally get it,” he reassured you, dropping back down next to you.

You sighed as he wrapped his arm around you again. Lifting your head, you let it rest on one of his biceps and drank in his facial features. He held onto one of your hands and played with your fingers, not looking at you directly.

“I’m sorry,” you told him, feeling a little uncertain.

JJ looked at you, furrow back between his eyebrows but a little different than before, “I’m the one who should be saying sorry.”

“What?” you asked, feeling the urge to press the wrinkle until it went away.

“For forcing myself onto you,” JJ mumbled.

Suddenly it felt like you couldn’t keep up with the conversation, “Wait what?”

He wouldn’t meet your eyes again, so you lifted his chin until the two of you were almost nose to nose. JJ shut his eyes, “You’re really drunk, I shouldn’t have ever returned the kiss because you might regret it in the morning.”

“No, I really do like you JJ, I just,” you paused, trying to find the right words, “I just want it to be special, I guess,” you trailed off, hoping it made sense.

JJ smiled gently and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, “We can talk about it tomorrow, yeah?”

With a giant yawn, you nodded and the last thing you remember is him running a hand through your hair and tangling your legs together.

[underoossss]

Cappuccinos - H.O

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield x reader

Coffee Shop AU

Summary: 3 times Harrison tries to ask you out and one time you ask him.

AN: Hello everyone! Guess who’s back with a one shot! ME! This is for @hollandsosterfield​ ‘s writing challenge with the prompt “Can you give me a knife for my birthday? So I can stab you with it?

---

1

The sound of the coffee grinder and the chatter of distant conversations from some customers sitting by the window surround Harrison as he takes his 15thorder of the day. “So you have a large iced coffee with three shots of caramel, a croissant and an apple. Is that everything for you today?” He asks the woman standing in front of him who nods as she fishes out her wallet from her purse. “That’d be $7.25. Can I have your name for the order?”

“Dorothy.” She says, showing him her debit card so that Harrison can prompt the purchase on the machine in front of her. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” He smiles, handing her a receipt and moving to take a croissant from the pastries display for her. He puts it in a baking tray and places it on the toaster oven for a bit to warm it up. “There’s a croissant in the oven, Will.”

“Okay.” His friend nods as he finishes two orders and proceeds to call the person’s name over the counter. “Two mocca’s for Lilly?”

Harrison lets out a deep breath, looking around the shop. The 7am rush hour had come to an end, leaving only Dorothy who waits for her iced latte and a group of three sitting by the window. They look like they’re finishing up a presentation, all their laptops propped on the antique cream coffee table in front of them. After his brief scan of the room, he glances up at the clock propped on the wall. 8:05, the next rush of students going to their 8:30 class will come by soon enough. The thought makes Harrison’s hands sweat so he focuses on the smell of freshly baked blueberry scones coming from the kitchen. Y/N, comes by at 8:10am every day, orders a coffee and sometimes grabs a fruit from the display basket before rushing to class. She’s from the Art Institute a few blocks away and Harrison’s been crushing on her from the moment she stepped into the coffee shop on a Monday 4 months ago. He believes she’s an architect, always carrying plans and drawing buildings on the coffee table by the turquoise sofa next to the chimney.

The sound of the bell hanging over the door makes him look up to see you enter the coffee shop. A strong wind had blown your scarf out of place and you fix it while walking to the register. “Hey, Haz. How’s it going.” You set a large binder on the counter for a second, shaking your arms when they get some rest.

“Good morning.” He smiles back. “What can I get for you today?”

“A medium cappuccino with some cinnamon on top, please. Oh, and a banana muffin.” Your eyes light up when you spot the freshly baked muffins on the pastry display on your right.

Harrison smiles, your smile almost lighting up the whole shop. After a few seconds, he shakes himself out of his daze and puts one of the muffins in a paper bag that he hands to you. “That’s gonna be $5.”

You place the paper bag on top of your binder before reaching inside your tote bag for your wallet. After you pay, Harrison smiles and moves over to the expresso machine ignoring Will’s knowing look when he starts to make your drink. Shot of expresso, steam the milk, and foam. Harrison hums as he prepares the drink, the delicious smell of coffee flooding his senses. When the drink is ready he puts the white lid on top where he writes your name with a flower next to it, the way he’s always done it from day one. It’s been months, ask her out already! “So, um, I was wondering.” Harrison places the coffee on the counter but stops talking when he sees you’re on the phone. Your forehead is creased, confused, as someone speaks on the other end.

“What do you mean he’s picking up the assignment already? It’s not 8:30 yet!” You look up and smile at Harrison, getting your coffee and mouthing a quick thank you to him.

Damnit.

2

“Harrison, it’s been months of you pining over her.” Will rolls his eyes when he spots Harrison staring at the door expectantly the next day. A large batch of customers had just left a couple of minutes ago, so him and Will were enjoying a little peace before the 8:30am rush arrives. “Just ask for her number, you should see the way she looks at you.”

Harrison lets out a laugh, “There’s no way that she looks at me. I’m just the part time barista that makes her coffee and she’s nice.” His fingers fiddle with the pocket of his turquoise apron as he waits for you to walk through that door.

“The arts university is blocks away and she can easily go to the Starbucks next to it, and yet she chooses to come here every day.” Will insists as he cleans the countertops and puts some of the espresso cups in the dishwasher.

“It’s probably more crowded over there, that’s all.” Harrison shrugs, moving the gaze to the clock on his right. 8:10.

The doorbell dings as another group of people enter the coffee shop, you among them. This time though, there’s a guy next to you, his arm around your shoulder; he’s laughing at something you said. “There’s no way the dean said that Y/N.” Tom shakes his head.

Harrison feels his shoulders sag but he puts on a fake smile for the customers standing in front of him. He should’ve known, he probably wasn’t the only one crushing on you, you’re funny and kind and so hardworking. There’s been days you’ve stayed at the coffee shop studying until closing time, losing track of time as you go through your schoolwork. Harrison has the proof he needs now, to support the already known fact that his own nerves prevented him from even getting your number on time.

“I’m telling you Tom, you’re 100% suspended for traveling to England in the middle of the semester.” You chuckle as you step up to the cashier, your turn to order. “Hey, Haz! Good morning.” Your smile is bright but the one Harrison gives you in return doesn’t quite reach his eyes. His heart is still in the process of breaking but he clears his throat, ignoring the way you tilt your head in confusion.

“Hi Y/N, a cappuccino today?” He grabs a sharpie so he can write your usual order on the paper cup before looking up again.

“Yes please, and a-”

“And a large caramel latte for me, please.” The guy next to her, Tom, smiles. “You getting something to eat, love?”

Love.

“No I’m good. Just those two drinks Haz, thank you.”

“No problem.” He smiles, but it feels forced. His chest feels heavy and he chastises himself again for taking so long.

“I hope you’re having a nice day so far.” You comment, a little weary, and you take out a $20 bill from your back pocket. Your eyes are darting across his face, like you can tell something’s off with his mood.

“I am, thanks. You?” He hands Tom’s cup to Will in a silent request that his friend doesn’t question. He then proceeds to make yours after he gives you your change back.

“Yeah, me too.” You nod, moving to the pickup area and pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You’re wearing a rust color sweater today, your hands hidden inside the sleeves and Harrison thinks it’s the most endearing thing in the world.

“Of course you are, I’m back.” Tom says making you roll your eyes and Harrison has to bite the inside of his cheek to avoid giving away how awfully awkward he feels. Stop crushing on this guy’s girlfriend, idiot. He writes your name on the lid before drawing a small smiley face on it, instead of the usual flower. She probably won’t notice anyway.

“Here you go.” He says, placing your cup on the counter and regretting not drawing the flower on it when he sees you frown for a brief second.

“Thanks, Haz.” You mumble, averting your gaze from him and heading to the door.

“See ya!” Tom says as he follows you.

“See you…”

3

“EVERYONE! IT’S THIS BEAUTIFUL LADY’S, WHO ALSO HAPPENS TO BE MY BEST FRIEND, BIRTHDAY TODAY!” Tom all but yells when he enters the coffee shop with you by his side at 8:10am the next day. You cover your face in embarrassment.

“Can you get me a knife for my birthday, so I can stab you with it?” You say rolling your eyes at him but smiling anyway.

Harrison is frozen in place for a second, was he really that lucky and that stupid? Best friend. Not girlfriend. He had been so wrong! He drew a stupid smiley face on your coffee for a stupid assumption he had made. “God I’m an idiot.”

“Yeah, you are.” Will chuckles to his right, holding his hands up when Harrison glares at him. “Wait, I wasn’t supposed to comment on that?”

Harrison shakes his head, getting a chocolate cake pop from the glass display and handing it to you when you reach the cashier. “Happy birthday, Y/N.” He smiles, because he’s ecstatic, he hasn’t lost his chance.

Giving you a cake pop brings back the memory of his failed attempt at flirting about a month back. You had been studying until late on a Thursday night, the same day he was covering for Andrea who had an important exam to study for. Harrison had thought it was fate that you two had seen each other on the same day twice; something that never happens. So as they started to clean up the counters and packing leftover pastries up, he put a single double chocolate chip cookie on a plate and walked over to where you sat. You smiled and tried to pay for it; he argued that since they were closing, it was no problem at all.

“Is this your way of kicking me out?” You raised an eyebrow, a playful smile on your face that makes Harrison scramble for words.

“N-no, no! That’s not what I meant! You just order them often and-” He held his hands up, the last thing he wanted was for you to think he was kicking you out. Why did he mention the shop closing?

“Hey, it’s okay I’m only teasing you.” You chuckled, stopping his rambling.

You smile in surprise again at the sight of the cake pop. “Harrison, thank you.” The look in your eyes is soft and Harrison’s stomach does a backflip.

“It’s your birthday, it’s on the house!” He smiles back, the smile is so wide his cheeks start to hurt. The relief of knowing he still has a chance and the fact that it’s your birthday, fills him with happiness. In his opinion birthdays are always special, no matter whose birthday it is, without birthdays you wouldn’t be standing in front of him making his morning better every day.

You take the cake pop and thank him again before ordering yours and Tom’s coffee. They go through the usual conversation: Cappuccino? Yes, please. And a large iced coffee? Yup. When you pay and he gives you your change, he decides to keep the conversation going. “Any plans for you birthday?” He asks, writing the orders on their respective cups. Maybe if you’re free he can ask you to hang out.

“Yes. Actually I-”

“Would you mind? You’re holding up the line!” An old lady behind you makes you and Tom jump, giving Harrison an apologetic look. He had been so caught up on his feelings and staring at you that he didn’t realize the second rush of customers had arrived and were waiting in line.

“A bit moody…” Tom mutters under his breath and Harrison couldn’t agree more.

“Sorry ma’am.” Harrison says, trying to go for an innocent smile to ease her mood. The last thing he needed was a rude customer ruining his morning. “Have a nice day, Y/N.”

You smile at him again, moving over to the pick up counter. “You too, Haz.” You give him one last look over your shoulder before going back to talking to Tom.

Another chance missed. He couldn’t even make her coffee for you, he’s so stupid for taking so long. “What can I get for you ma’am?”

4

It’s 3:47pm when Harrison hears the bell over the door ring, signaling someone entering the coffee shop. Het sets down the expresso cups he was rearranging and looks up to see who it is. Y/N. Since breakfast and lunch time had already passed, the shop was mostly quiet and Harrison was the only one working outside. He fixes his apron as he walks to the cashier and clear his throat before he smiling. Why are my hands so sweaty? If they could stop sweating, that’d be great.

“Hello, you’re still here.” You say as you approach him, fixing the tote bag on your shoulder. You’re wearing a blue sweater today. It has a couple of flowers embroidered on the cuffs and Harrison thinks it’s really nice.

“Hey, Y/N. A second coffee?” Harrison leans his hands on the counter next to the register. It’s only the two of us, don’t screw it up.

“I have a long night at the university’s library. I work today of all days.” You nod your head and sigh. “But it’s okay, it’ll give me time to get some assignments done.”

Harrison gives you a sympathetic smile, working late on your birthday doesn’t sound like fun at all. “Well, at least you’re looking at the bright side of it.” He shrugs and picks up a sharpie and a medium paper cup. “Your usual?”

“Yes please, but let’s spice it up. Normal coffee for work feels a bit too boring.” You smile at him before looking at the drink menu.

“Pumpkin spice?” Harrison suggests.

You chuckle and shake your head then make up your mind a second later.  “Let’s go with salted caramel.”

“You got it.” Harrison winks. He actually winks. That was probably so lame…He feels his cheeks burn in embarrassment and he gives you a shy smile as you hand him the money to pay for your drink. A few moments later both of you move to the pick up area; you lean against the counter watching Harrison work on the coffee.

This is it. There’s no one else ordering coffee. Ask her! Now!

“So I was wondering if you’d like to hang out sometime? Maybe go for a picnic?” Harrison says at the same time you speak up as well.

“I’m having a small gathering tomorrow for my birthday. I was wondering if you wanted to come?”

Both of you look up at the same time, and it’s not awkward at all; it’s only funny. What are the odds that you two choose to ask the other out at the same time? So Harrison chuckles and rubs the back of his neck. “You go first.”

“I’m having a small gathering with a couple of friends tomorrow for my birthday. Would you like to come?” Your hands tap the counter, probably out of nerves, and Harrison finds it comforting. He’s not the only one that’s nervous.

“I’d love to.” He beams, his heart drumming incessantly on his chest. She asked me out! And to her birthday!

“Really? Awesome!” You smile, biting your lip to tone down your excitement. “And I’m free on Saturday, for that picnic?” Your head tilts to the right in question. As if Harrison would pass up any opportunity to get to know you better.

“I-I’m free too, yeah that’d be really nice.” Harrison nods, he remembers the cup of coffee in his hand and quickly puts a lid on it before it gets cold. This time though, he draws a little heart on it instead of a flower and he can’t help but feel incredibly happy when you smile at the sight of it.

“I, um, I need your phone number.” You say smiling at him, suddenly looking shy once again.

“Oh! Right!” Harrison’s cheeks turn pink once again as he looks around for somewhere to write. He spots the cookies on the display and smiles; he places a double chocolate one on a paper bag and writes his phone number on it along with his name. “Here you go.”

“Awesome.” You smile, taking it. “You didn’t have to  give me a cookie, though.”

“I know but I wanted to, it’s your birthday.” Harrison shrugs. “And I know you love them so.”

“Fine.” You chuckle, putting the bag inside your tote and getting ready to leave. “I’ll text you then. Have a nice afternoon, Haz.”

“Bye, Y/N.” Harrison waves. YES!

If any of the clients saw Harrison celebrate by the espresso machine, they didn’t comment on it. There were usual customers anyways, they knew how badly those two have been crushing on each other.

Tagging: @parrkerspeters @parkerpuffwrites @hollandharrison @lovestrucktom @sincerelymlg @fairydustparker 💕

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

Remnants, Part VI

LOTS happens. If you’ve got questions, shoot me an ask and I’ll answer if it won’t spoil the plot : )

Part I,  Part II,  Part III,  Part IV,  Part V

Summary: You are in the midst of formulating your dissertation, but you’ve hit a wall. Your doting aunt, Rebecca, has a solution that brings you face to face with Ahkmenrah, Fourth King of the Fourth King. As the connection between you and Ahkmenrah grows, and as the secrets of his ancient tablet unlock, the once-king will find himself faced with a difficult choice.

    Thanks so much to @kitkatcronch @kpopperotp12 @seafrost-fangirl  @sassystrawberryk and @perfect-rami for reading : ) If anyone else wants added to the taglist, let me know. I’ve greatly appreciated all of the feedback!

    Warnings: Smut, again. Also, some talk of incest in case that is a trigger for you. Ahk is a solid 20 years of age to be certain to avoid any squick factor.

* * * * *

Two weeks had passed since you took Ahkmenrah out of the museum, and you had been buried in pre-semester work. Summer was ending and soon all of NYU’s students would be returning to school. Once the undergrads returned, you also worked as a TA in addition to your work as an RA. You had to manage your time carefully to make sure you were going to be able to defend your dissertation in April, and that meant a lot more nights of sleeping so you could fill your days with writing.

 A few days after your night out, you had popped into the museum to tell Ahk that you were just busy, you weren’t avoiding him. He said he understood, although the happiness in his eyes at seeing you quickly faded when he realized you wouldn’t be back for a while. Nevertheless, he answered the few questions you had, and when it came time to leave, he wrapped you up in a big hug and shot you that megawatt smile.

 It bothered you to be away, but at the same time, you knew the power of distance. You tried not to think too much about that night between the two of you. If only you were capable of applying your work ethic to your will power, because as soon as you resolved to let it be a one-night thing, another part of you thought, why not have a repeat? You were two consenting adults who cared about one another and had great chemistry. Just because one of you died for half of a day didn’t mean that taking your relationship to a more intimate level was wrong—it worked for Buffy and Sookie, twice, for a while anyway . . .

You also had the precedent of Ryan; things worked out alright with the end of the sex-side of your arrangement.

 After apologizing profusely to all of your friends for double-booking yourself that night, you made an effort to spend more time with people who were of the normal, totally alive variety. You had lunch with Ahmad and Jess, drinks with Chelsea, and you saw Timmy and Ryan at school during the week. You and Ryan companionably worked on your dissertations in the lounge. The Monday after, he asked a few questions about Ahkmenrah and you were as honest as you could be.

 During that conversation, you told Ryan it was time to stop the sex side of your relationship.

 “So, just friends, then?”

 “Back to the basics for us, yes.”

 “But you’re not looking to make this guy your boyfriend?”

 “Nope.”

 “Alrighty.”

 So, Ry just dropped it; you were both busy and determined to get as much written prior to the start of term as possible, and honestly, you made great writing buddies.

 That conversation went so well with Ryan, you thought maybe this could work with Ahk. You just had to set the same boundaries with him that you had with Ryan.

 You made up your mind to talk to Ahkmenrah about it as soon as you finished your current chapter and sent it off to your chairs for review.

* * * * *

“Ahkmenrah?” you questioned as you looked around his exhibit, wondering where he could be.

 “I’m in here, Y/N.”

 You walked behind the large display stone in Ahkmenrah’s exhibit. He was sprawled out amidst a scattering of hieroglyphs written on notebook paper. His tablet was in the middle of the floor, glowing slightly, and on the back of the wall of his exhibit, there were arrangements of hieroglyphs tacked up in three rows of three, just like his tablet. So far, there were sets labelled, “Control/Command,” “Open Doorway,” “Armies of Undead,” and a few more that you didn’t know the translations for.

 “I’ve been experimenting,” Ahkmenrah mumbled from the floor, his hand scribbling away on a piece of paper. “I really like modern writing utensils.”

 “I see this, and yeah, the pen is a great invention.”

 “Indeed!”

 “Care to elaborate on what you’re doing, my mad scientist?”

 “If the tablet has the power to bring the museum to life, surely it can do more. Just like on the night I was able to use it to call back the exhibits—you can see the arrangement for that command on the wall there,” Ahkmenrah said, not looking up from his notebook and waving vaguely toward the wall.

 “What else have you figured out it can do?”

 “Open a portal into the underworld, summon an army of the undead.”

  You were stunned, but in order to be diplomatic you offered, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

 “I think this is something I need to figure out on my own, but thank you,” Ahkmenrah said, now rereading over what he had been writing.

 Ahk was wearing your NYU sweats and a t-shirt from the museum gift shop. Apparently, a few things had changed since you’d been away.

 “Does Larry know what you’ve been up to?”

 “Larry is not my keeper, Y/N. He’s the guardian of the exhibits in the museum.”

 “So, that’s a no.”

 “I do expect that Rebecca has figured it out because those signs appeared the other day,” Ahkmenrah said gesturing to the “Under construction, DO NOT ENTER” banners that spanned from the stone walls to the wall of the museum.

 “Smart.”

 It made for the perfect place for Ahkmenrah to work, and your aunt possessed your same insatiable curiosity. You made a mental note to text her and meet for lunch to talk about this.

 You settled in behind Ahkmenrah and reached up to massage his shoulders, enjoying the feeling of his hard muscles relaxing under your ministrations.

 A small hum of pleasure sounded deep within Ahk’s throat, a sound that made your thighs tingle in remembrance of your night together.  

 You shifted up onto your knees so your lips could reach the back of his neck. You placed a small kiss at the base, just above the material of his shirt, and Ahk stiffened, his muscles tensing immediately.

 “Y/N, what are you doing?”

 “Kissing you,” you said as you moved your lips up a fraction of an inch and pressed them to his golden skin again.

 “That was a one-time thing. We can’t—"

 “But I want to. And I know you do, too.”

 Your lips had traveled to just behind his ear and as you took the lobe between your lips and sucked, you suddenly found yourself flat on your back on top of Ahk’s research, the tablet, still glowing, inches from your head.  

 His gaze was a mixture of defeat and conquest. You had defeated his resolve not to complicate things between you and now he wanted to show you just how good this kind of complication could be.

 He pinned your arms above your head, his thigh pushing tightly against your center as he straddled your thigh to hold you in place.

 “I won’t share you. I don’t care if that’s unfair, but if you want this, you can’t have him, too.”

 “He’s just a friend now.”

 “Like I am just a friend?”

 “I promise, no one else will be this kind of friend with me. I am a one-man kinda gal.”

 “You would declare yourself my concubine?” Ahkmenrah said, his mouth twitching with mirth.

 “You could declare yourself my concubine, former pharaoh.”

 “Always a pharaoh. But for you, I think I would declare myself anything you wished.”

 As Ahkmenrah bent his lips to yours and claimed your mouth, his words washed over you like a lust-filled rain. He kissed you into a puddle of pliancy, shifting his position so he was between your legs. His clothed cock was rubbing against the juncture between your legging-clad thighs. You felt like this was the most exquisite way to spend an evening at the museum yet . . . until the clopping of Teddy’s horse’s hooves startled the both of you.

 “Fuck,” you hissed.

 “Come on,” Ahk said. And the two of you took off in the direction of the forgotten storage area you used on the night you brought Ahkmenrah’s clothes.

 As soon as the door shut, Ahkmenrah yanked off his t-shirt, standing sexily in just your pair of sweats, his arousal evident against the loose fabric.

 You took off your shirt, bra, and leggings, leaving yourself clad only in a pair of icy-blue lace cheekies. You dropped to your knees in front of Ahk and ran your hands across his abdomen and around to squeeze his ass.

 He was staring at you with those wide, polychromatic eyes, his pupils dilated, and his lower lip tucked between his teeth. He ran his fingers over your arms and you hugged him close, nuzzling the bulge in his sweats, dragging your teeth over his covered cock to tease him.

 Ahkmenrah clearly didn’t care for your teasing and pulled himself free to stroke his length, enticing you to take him in your mouth.

 You licked his cock from base to tip, flattening your tongue to deliver as much of the wet, warm sensation to Ahk as possible before slowly swallowing him. You sucked him off, relishing in the salty, earthy taste of him.

 With a growl, Ahkmenrah backed away from your lips, leaving you a little dazed at his sudden movement. He hoisted you up by grabbing under your elbows and then backed you into a stack of boxes. He lifted you, and pushing your panties aside, entered you with one hard thrust.

 Ahkmenrah flung his hand over your mouth to cut off your obnoxious cry of pleasure, and his shoulders shook as he laughed and grinned at you.

 “My gods, you are not at all experienced in the art of subtle liaisons.”

 “Exactly how much experience do you have, huh?”

 He grinned mischievously, “In all of our talks, you never asked me about my sex life.”

 “That’s because I was trying to control myself by working really, really hard not to think about it.”

 “Mmm, I suppose in this area, field research is the best way to learn.”

 “Ahk?”

 “Yes, my queen?”

 “Move.”

 And he did.

 He fucked you so hard that you ended up knocking the boxes off of the shelf and the two of you finished your orgasms while on a toppled heap of dusty relics, some poking into your ass and your back but you didn’t care.

 Still catching your breath, Ahkmenrah pulled you up out of the pile of rubble and held you flush against his body until your thighs stopped trembling. He was so warm, and you loved hearing his heart beat so soundly against his chest, knowing that you’re the one who brought him to such a high.  

 Once you were steady, you stepped back from Ahkmenrah and reached up to kiss him, grasping the sides of his face and running your thumbs across his cheekbones.

 You looked into his eyes and asked, “So, did you have a harem?”

 Ahkmenrah laughed before replying, “Curious, hmm? But the answer is no, as I had not yet married.”

 “How long did you rule before your death?” you asked while redressing.

 “I inherited the throne at 15. Father was aging and wanted to ensure our family continued to rule. It was a controversial choice because I was not the eldest.”

 “No, Kahmunrah was. And you had three older sisters, too?”

 “I did. My brother was a bit . . . reckless. Father wanted what was best for the kingdom. It was not a personal choice, rather a choice for what was best for the people. Kahmun just could not understand that,” Ahkmenrah finished, a faraway look in his eyes.

 He continued, “I died . . . right before my marriage to Sitmut.”

 You furrowed your brows, inventorying the list of Ahkmenrah’s sisters.

 “Your sister.”

 Ahkmenrah shook his head, coming out of whatever he had been remembering.

 “Yes, my most beloved sister. She was only a year and a half older than me. We were very close as children, so she was my first choice.”

 You pursed your lips, processing the information. You knew that pharaohs, especially those who had maintained rule over an extended period of time, rarely married outside of their families, so the information wasn’t unexpected.

 Ahkmenrah moved to stand in front of you, his hands resting on your upper arms.

 “I would have chosen you if I had known you then.”

 You snorted, “I think not. Duty before love, right?”

 You almost swallowed your tongue when you realized what you had just said, your cheeks growing hot.

 “Not that I’m implying we’re in love holy fucking hell we’ve only known each other for like two months and we just started with the sex thing and—

 Ahkmenrah grinned, and put his finger against your lips, and said, “I knew what you meant. Although, ‘now the lady doth protest too much, methinks.’”

 “You can quote Shakespeare?”

 Ahkmenrah rolled his eyes. “I went to Cambridge, remember?”

 You quietly laughed, and he pulled you in to hug you, squeezing you against his solid body. You wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled into his neck.

 “You know marrying siblings is pretty much illegal, forbidden now?”

 “That was something Jack and I talked at length about. It explained a lot, honestly. The royals had many still births, and we often heard tales of other monstrous deformities. We just assumed that the gods had chosen to curse those children.”

 “You seem to have turned out alright. More than alright, actually,” you said smiling.

 “My mother and father weren’t siblings. My mother was the only child of my grandfather’s brother. She and my father were deeply in love, had been since their youth.”

 “I remember reading the story of their marriage in your papyruses. Really, really big wedding.”

 “The longest celebration of a marriage Egypt had ever known.”

 “Do you miss them?”

 “More than you could know, Y/N. In fact, I hope you never have to know what it feels like to miss a person like that.”

 You squeezed Ahk, and he kissed the top of your head.

 “We should get back. And hope that no one heard your cries of pleasure.”

 “Excuse me. I wasn’t in here by myself!”

 Ahkmenrah grinned, a million-dollar smile, and it melted your insides every goddamn time.

 * * * * *

 “With the de-evolution of Ra into Aten, Akhenaten was able to propagate his monotheistic cult; however, when Akhenaten’s secondary wife, Kiya, was gifted the title, “God’s daughter,” the parallels between Akhenaten’s cult and Christianity—”

 “Fuck,” you growled as the knocking on your apartment door interrupted your writing.  

 Once again, you were wrapped up in drafting your chapters. Your conversation with Ahkmenrah about marriage had sparked a new idea and you wanted to get it outlined so you could fill in the holes with research.

 You looked through the peep hole and saw Ryan’s sandy-colored hair.

 Now you were more puzzled than annoyed. You answered the door in your sweats, with your hair in a messy bun, and your glasses slipping down your nose.

 “Hey,” you said, lamely.

 “Hey yourself,” Ryan answered you as he walked in.

 You waited. It was always better to let the other person go first, especially when you didn’t know what the fuck was going on.  

 Instead of talking, Ryan walked to the tea kettle, knowing that it would be full because you always had tea while you worked on your dissertation, and poured himself a cup, moving around your kitchen with a practiced ease. A pang of longing, knowing that you’d never see Ahk do the same, coursed through you.

 Ryan sipped his tea.

 You couldn’t wait any longer.

 “You’re killing me with suspense, Ry. What is it?”

 Ryan’s face split into an impossibly wide grin: “I got the grant. I finally got the fucking grant!”

 “Shit, Ry! That’s fantastic!” you said as you moved to sit down, gesturing for Ryan to join you on the sofa. “Tell me everything.”

 The grant was something Ryan applied for annually but never thought he had a shot of getting. You had always admired his perseverance. With the grant, he would be working his way through three, formerly colonized countries in Africa, spending one month in each place.

 “There’s something else,” Ryan said, taking a sip of his tea before setting it down to rub his hands together.

 “After those three months in the field, I spend another three months working a paid internship for a museum of my choice in Cairo.”

 Your eyes widened and you felt the pull of jealousy; working for the Egyptian Museum of Cairo was your dream job. You felt passionately about working to restore artifacts to their homeland. Of course, Cairo boasted several museums and Ryan would be able to choose from any of them; however, one of Ryan’s interests had always been the effects of the Roman infiltration on Egyptian society.

 “Not gonna lie. I’m jealous.”

 “What if I told you that you didn’t have to be?”

 You raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to continue.

 “Y/N. There are two spots; as the earliest approved applicant, I get to make a recommendation before they return to the pool. You’d have to fill out a lot of paperwork, of course—”

 “Ryan, what the fuck are you saying?” you ask in a hushed voice, unsure if you wanted to even know the answer.

 Ryan moved closer to you and took your hand.

 “Come with me.”

 You stared at Ryan before furrowing your brows and sort of smiling, a small, crazed smile.

 “You’re joking.”

 “I’m as serious as a heart attack, babe. This is your chance to do the one thing you’ve always wanted to do—live in Egypt. You know that researchers who work for the museum accompany archeologists on their digs, right?”

 You let go of Ryan’s hand, which you had unconsciously been clutching, to get up and start pacing around the room. Your mind was whirling at this opportunity; what if nothing like this ever came up again? Ryan applied for that grant for six years straight and only just got it.

 “I . . . I . . . I’m just—fuck, I don’t even know what I am right now.”

 “I know there’s a lot to consider, but I want to lay something else out, too. We’ve always been honest with each other, communicated. And I think that’s why our relationship worked for the length it did. But seeing you with that guy made me realize that I want more. I want you.”

 “Ry—holy fuck! You can’t just dump that on me after dumping the first question—it’s a double dumping, fuck, I didn’t even know you felt that way.”

 “I didn’t either until you started slipping away from me, from us. At first, I just thought it was the dissertation. And then I thought, oh, the museum. Becca’s there and that makes sense. But then I find out that it’s not just Becca you see at the museum—”

 “Distance, Ry. Just enough emotional distance. That was always our first rule. That’s what was supposed to prevent . . . this!”

 “I know, but after seeing you with someone else, I couldn’t stop thinking about that first year. About you in the airport, standing there with nothing much more than a backpack and one suitcase. I told you then that we should keep our distance, otherwise, one of us would really end up falling for the other. I thought I was giving you advice. Turns out, it was me that needed it. You’ve kept me at arm’s length for almost seven years, and I just can’t fucking quit you. I feel like this grant is the universe telling me to take my shot.”

 You stopped pacing long enough to listen to Ryan as he spoke, baring his heart to you. This was never supposed to happen. You were back to just friends. Just friends.

 “Or maybe I missed my shot?” Ryan said to end the silence.

 “I don’t know, Ry. My mind’s racing right now and I thought I knew which way was up about 20 minutes ago and now, now I haven’t got a clue.”

 “I’m not going to tell the foundation to move on until you’ve thought about this for a while. I leave in three weeks.”

 “You’ve been such a good friend to me,” you say, earnestly.

 Ryan laughed sadly and said, “Friend, huh? That’s kinda ice-cold right now, babe.”

 “Stop. You know I need to think about all of this, a thousand times over, before I’m ready to talk to you about it. I appreciate your honesty, and I am really flattered that you would want to take me with you. I could really fuck up your whole life, and you’re brave for taking this risk.”

 “Just a little fucking stupid, not brave.”

 You laughed softly, “Just a little. But aren’t we all sometimes?”

“Only sometimes,” Ryan agreed softly as he let himself out.

 Holy Roman Fuck. What the hell am I going to do?

 * * * * *

After Ryan left, you ended up polishing off a bottle of wine while panicking about your disaster of a life, which then led to you falling asleep on the couch. Once again, you were disturbed by a knocking on your apartment door.

 You opened your eyes, felt around for your phone and saw that it was 11: 21 pm. You rolled off the sofa, head pounding in tandem with the knocking, longing for a glass of water.

 You looked through the peephole and saw that it was Ahkmenrah in his NYU sweats and t-shirt. You opened the door, and he rushed in.

 “We’ve gotta get you more clothes,” you said, sleep and maybe still the wine, slurring your speech.

 “Oh my god! Ahkmenrah! What the fuck? How the fuck?” you started spewing once your brain caught up to what the hell just happened.

 “All good questions, but I need you to come with me. I have something I want to show you,” he replied, his eyes wider and brighter than you had ever seen, excitement reverberating within his voice.

 “How did you get here?” you asked, your face riddled with confusion and concern. “If you had gotten lost, Ahk, my god! We would have never found you.”

 Ahkmenrah, for the first time since you met, was angry.

 “I am not a child, Y/N. I would think you of all people would be certain of that,” he said, his voice barely containing his anger, his eyes narrowed.

 “I’m sorry,” you replied, shaking your head and closing your eyes, trying to find a way to explain yourself. “I said that out of concern. I care about you. That’s all I meant.”

 Ahkmenrah softened, but was still agitated.

 “Remember this?” he asked as he held up the extra metro card you bought for his night out. “And do you remember that I listened carefully as you explained exactly how the subways worked? And do you remember that I asked you, very specifically, about the names of each place at which we stopped? And the name of your dwelling’s building?

 Jesus. He was a quick study, and here you were the one who was supposed to be about to get a PhD.

 “I’m an idiot, Ahk. Forgive me?”

 “I will if you come with me right away,” he said, his excitement returning, replacing his frustration.

 “I need 10 minutes. Make yourself at home,” you said, turning and heading to the bathroom.

 You looked like shit, so you brushed your teeth and put some Visine in your eyes. You washed your face and threw on a little make up, just enough to hide the purple under your eyes and even out your skin’s pigmentation. You pulled out the remnants of your bun and headed over to your bedroom to find some pants and a shirt.

 Once you dressed and tied up the laces of your converses, you stopped back in the bathroom to re-do your bun. You looked still like shit, but at least a more presentable version of shit.

 “Your beauty constantly surprises me,” Ahkmenrah said, beaming at you.

 You closed your eyes and bit back your retort, knowing that we are our own harshest critics.

 “I do not mean to rush you, Y/N, but this really is urgent,” Ahkmenrah said, from the spot in which he had obviously been pacing.

 You pulled your crossbody bag out of your backpack and pulled your keys off the hook by the door.

 “Can you bring your large bag, too? Please?”

 “Is everything okay?” you asked, shoving your small bag back into your backpack and hoisting the straps over your shoulders.

 You held the apartment door open as Ahkmenrah rushed out.

 “I have discovered something I am most eager to share with you.”

 This time, Ahkmenrah took your hand and led you through the streets and onto the subway.

 * * * * *

“Are you ready?” Ahkmenrah asked as he held his currently lifeless tablet in his hands.

 “I still don’t know what I’m getting ready for, Ahk.”

 “Trust me, please.”

 “I do. Okay—I’m ready!” you couldn’t help but to be a bit excited. Whatever was about to happen was surely going to be remarkable.

 Ahkmenrah concentrated on his tablet and spoke a string of words that you could only partially understand. Reading ancient Egyptian was one thing, but speaking it was still something of a mystery for scholars. Listening to it spoken by a native, well that was obviously unprecedented.

 The tablet began to glow, emitting a soft white light until it looked like Ahkmenrah was holding a piece of the moon in his hands.

 Then, a shimmering rift, almost like a doorway appeared beside the tablet. Still holding the glowing tablet in his left hand, Ahkmenrah held out his right to you.

 “Come on.”

 Your heart was hammering in your chest and your hand trembled as you placed it into his. Ahkmenrah led you through the doorway, which closed as soon as you took one step away from it.

 You swallowed, quite sure that if your heart hadn’t stopped yet it was about to. Your eyes couldn’t possibly take in your surroundings fast enough and your mind was working so hard to reconcile what just happened that you felt a little faint.

 You looked down and your feet were planted firmly on smooth stone, tiny grains of sand swirling at your feet. You could feel the heat of the dessert, immediately stifling. Hearing it before seeing it, you slowly turned and beheld the river you had only ever seen in your dreams.

 “Welcome to Wase, Y/N.”

 You turned your eyes away from the majesty of the Nile and back to Ahkmenrah’s face. You thought, for a horrific moment, that you were going to throw up. You swallowed, audibly, your mouth working to form words.

 “Wase,” you repeated in a hushed, raw voice, your mind working to make sense of that name.

 Then, it clicked.

 “My god . . . we’re in Thebes.”

[spilling-thoughts-blog1]

a collection of my honest (yet irrelevant) thoughts. | wednesday 8/30/2017 |

current adventure: college. 

I feel stupid sitting on a bench on campus writing a post to (possibly) nobody; but after 3 classes (with another one today) spanning these first three days of college, I feel like I need to write it out. crying can only relieve so much in all honesty. so emo, my apologies. 

classes started Monday, 8/28/30 and from the moment I woke up on Sunday, I've felt so empty and drained despite only taking two hour-and-twenty-minute long classes. Monday was okay. Class let out 30 minutes early, and since it was my only class of the day I walked a few blocks down to Girlfriend’s campus. Her school is insanely nice, just my style. Very industrial, modern, and taken care of. A drastic difference to my school. 

Its dirty and old (not a cute-worn though, it just looks like it hasnt been taken care of) and the kids are crusty bums. Granted, Girlfriend’s school has weirdos, lots of them, but theres a sense of safety because you know they won't try to shank you if you bump them! I don't have that luxury here. Her school is a private art school, mine is just the local community college. gotta save those dollars.

Anyways. On Monday I sat on a bench (at Girlfriend’s school,) similar to this one, but I had the grass next to me instead of the dirt and sticks here and a young guy was cutting the lawn and it was quiet (aside from the lawnmower) and pretty and I felt like I was at home. The guy was nice, he felt bad asking me to move for a second so he could cut the grass next to me. If I was at my school I bet they would have just mowed right over my folders. Girlfriend got out of class after about an hour of me sitting on her campus and I got to see her for a few minutes, really the only other time I’ve seen her aside from the 20 minute car ride to school (which is two days a week keep in mind.) 

We used to hang out everyday. Senior year was the best because I got to see her during practically every period (1st, 2nd, 5th, 6th, 7th, 8th actually... that is a lot lol) and then we would hang out after school. Perk of your girlfriend not driving- you have an excuse to see her more often; she has to run errands, she needs a ride home, she needs a ride to, etc etc. 

The smell of funnel cake keeps distracting me. I don't think theres any funnel cake, it just smells fried and sweet because the cafeteria is behind me and I'm getting hungry for the first time this week.

Not seeing her is one of the shittiest parts of college so far. I really miss her. Her classes are super long, each one at least 2 hours long I believe, and even though our schools are less than a 10 minute walk from each other, I can't see her because when she gets out of class, I'm just going into class. I also hate not seeing any familiar faces. Yeah, you have to make friends blah blah blah, but its a shock going from my nice high school with students I’d gone to school with since middle school; some even elementary school to this. sounds privileged, in know... I don't know why it keeps surprising me as well seeing full on adults walking into classes. Good for them though. 

My next class starts in 40 minutes (at 11:00 and its 10:17) but I’ll probably head up in a few. It’s a 2 hour and 50 minute class and I didn't bring any of the 6 books we have to read because I already had my two English books and I didn't want to lug 8 novels around in my backpack, especially since we haven't needed any of our books on the first day. But then again, its a 3 hour class and I doubt we’ll get out that early. 

Ew it smells like kerosene... not my favorite smell by far. They're setting up lame tables and tents and “Week of Welcome” activities. Will I participate? no. Am I the cause of my misery and tears thus far? Mostly. 

I read up on all of my professors I could find on “rate my professor” and this next one seems super fun. He has like, 4.4/5 review and apparently he's hot. everyone said his class is easy too which is a bonus. The reviews weren't too wrong about my Comp 2 professor, they didn't speak too highly of her. Right now I'm not a fan. She comes to class 5 minutes before it begins and seems very disorganized. I really don't like that. My Psych teacher is an absolute loon, but I feel like thats to be expected from a community college psychology professor. No offense if thats what you want to be, or if your favorite professor (or family member) is one. Just my honest thoughts. 

The sun came out, thats nice. Eases my anxiety a little bit when its nice out. 

Jesus Christ (pardon my language if it offends you) Chris brown just started blaring out of the welcome week speakers. they're trying to make this shitty cheap ass campus a party. no thank you. “now everybody put your hands in the air. yeah yeah yeah.” its lit. sense the sarcasm.

Hopefully this class will be better and when I get home (1:50 can't come soon enough) the feeling of empty darkness inside of me that has lingered for the past 3 days will subside a little bit. I won't get my hopes up. I should start a tear jar, a warning to seniors.

WHEN I SAY I WANT TO SEE FAMILIAR FACES I DONT MEAN THE CRUSTY MEAN FUCKBOYS I WENT TO HIGH SCHOOL WITH. I WANT TO SEE MY FRIENDS; OH WAIT, THEYRE ALL OVER ACHIEVERS AND NICE KIDS AND ARE AWAY AT SCHOOLS LIVING FUN LIVES AND BEING HAPPY, OR AT PRIVATE SCHOOLS RIGHT DOWN THE STREET BUSY DOING AMAZING ART. now its glamorous. good thing Fergie spells G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S because I don't think half of these kids can.

its been a while, its almost 5:30 now. my 3 hour class was boring as hell. he is not hot, nor young and he was 5 minutes late to class. you can hear him suck back his snot every few minutes and choke on it a little. but his class will be easy so thats great. I'm just questioning whether I need it or not. 

I haven't cried yet today, we’ll see how I feel later though. I miss Girlfriend. She’ll be home soon but I’ll bet you she’ll have to eat dinner as soon as she gets home, and then she’ll start her homework. nobody disrupts her art, not even me so I'll get to talk to her before bed for a few before I pass out at 10:00. It sucks because I was supposed to see Her Friday after my morning class ends, because she doesn't have class but then my new manager asked if I could come in. so instead of finally spending a day with her I'll be getting trained. my old manager is starting at the new store which is why I'm coming with him, but he has to get trained first, so really, its like starting a new job completely. I don't know why I decided it would be a good idea to switch jobs the first week of school. granted, there was no way in hell I would have stayed at my old job. I just should have waited until this first God awful week was over. but thats just my luck. 

Im always so tired now. I say always like its been a few weeks of school when really its been 4 days. mom asked if I wanted to go on a walk with the family, and of course I said no. “it’ll be good for your mental health” ahh I see, she can see me slowly slipping downhill again and wants to prevent it. well, I don't think a walk is going to make me feel much better about the fact that my school is dirty and the hallway I was in for my last class smelled horrible, which obviously worsened my mood, and the added fact that I'm starting a new job this week and don't know what I should wear. oh, and the other fact that I don't get to see my girlfriend anymore already and its only been 4 days. 

I had a bad feeling when She had her orientation and made her schedule. I new going to different schools would be horrible, but I didn't realize it would be like this. she's actually having fun and enjoying herself and making a few friends, and then theres me and I'm miserable and still have yet to speak to anyone really and she can't text in class when I'm out of class and I can't text in class when she's out. so thats great. I'm just waiting for the day she says someones flirting with her and she doesn't hate it. perks of dating a poly. I can't say no and deny her, especially when I'm not doing anything for her, or even seeing her, when someone else sees her almost every day. here come the watery eyes. plus, those kids are so much like her, they share her biggest passion. She always says she could never date someone who does what she does because it would be too much competition, but I feel like she's going to meet a photographer or videographer and it’ll be different enough to not impede on her talent, but it'll be similar enough that it’s great conversation and bonding. I'm just a jealous girlfriend, and college for us is looking to be the way I thought it would.

so, a summery for my future self who doesn't want to listen to this pity party:

Wednesday august 30, 2017. college sucks, I cry everyday, I hate my cheap dirty school and lame ass professors, I hardly see Girlfriend already, her experience is going great and I’m stressed af about starting a new job. countdown to the end of the semester-  74 days, 15 weeks, roughly 3.75 months, aka, too long to keep doing this shit.