#technically i have 2 problems to do on a worksheet but that can wait until tommorow morning !!!

[camelspit]

guess who doesnt have homework tonight 😝😝

[stevenuniversetanzanite]

The Angel Among Us (Cordelia X reader) Part 1

(This chapter has been rewritten/ edited since original post)

General Notice: I’m trying to get more works out during this time that is rough for all of us. That being said I am trying to keep it’s quality up.

This is technically a prequel to Fallen Angel (Work in progress), however it can be read as a stand alone series.

Summary:

If your reading as a stand alone: A witch heads back to Miss Robichaux's 20 years after she left in hopes of being a teacher there. The only problem is she hasn’t aged a day.

If your from Fallen Angel: The event’s leading up to Y/N joining Michael and the Cooperative. 

Warnings: N/A

Parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 , Part 4(will be added when done)

It had been years since you left Miss Robichaux's academy or spoken to your best friend from that place. How long it had been exactly was something you were unsure of. It felt like days, but it could have been decades. The school's exterior hadn't aged a day since you first stepped into that academy for extraordinary young ladies. To be fair, neither had you.

The two-story building towered over you as it did at 18. You tried to move on from those days alas your memory of the place remained in your stagnant life. You had ambitions once, now unsure of what they were. You weren't necessarily from New Orleans, but your ancestry was from Salem or at least from what the letter your mother sent you explaining your oddities.

Years on and you stood in front of the cast iron gates just as petrified as you were on your first day. You had nothing to lose except your old way of thinking. Now, there was her. You wouldn't expect someone to accept you as you are. There was no way to explain what has become of you because nothing has, you were the same person you were when you exited her life.

The chuckles of girls playing in the yard filled your ears on the fine summer's day. Break time, you thought to yourself as you tugged your cardigan closer to her frame. You used to spend all your free time in the greenhouse with your friend. Potions weren't your forte, but she loved it so acted like you did...for her. It wasn't until recently that you learned to appreciate the natural science of it.

Your friend was your main reason for your resurgence into the world of magic. Her passion to teach the next generation of witches fuelled your pilgrimage of discovery of the world. To teach the wonderous world of extraordinary beings to the youth of today. You excelled in the history of Salem witches and your passion extended across other magical beings. The two of you used to joke that after years you would be the only two to remain behind. You wished for nothing more than to be with her for all eternity. Some dreams never go as they're planned. Namely, her husband, Hank Foxx. It could have been because you spent years surrounded by women, but that man didn't sit right with you. Nor did he to your friends Mother, one of the few things you got on with that woman about.

Her mother was a vile woman, the supreme witch since she was 18. She rarely took interest in the coven unless it was for self-benefit. She was a distant mother to her daughter, shipping her off to the school at the early age of 7. Your friend sought out a mother figure elsewhere, finding it in Myrtle Snow who ended up working for the council and doing the work the supreme refused to do. Her mother, Fiona, was long since dead, four years to be exact. Her title ironically passed down to her daughter. The worlds changed since your school days. You'd heard the news from your local sources, discovering Fiona's death when news of witches was broadcasted to the world. There was no way in hell Fiona would allow that. You were tempted to go to the opening, say hello to your old friend. But what would you say? It's been years. You left her all alone for years. How were you going to forgive yourself?

With a flick of the wrist, the gates were open. Your heart pounded to the beat of your footsteps. Your breath stilled when you knocked on the door. Maybe this was a mistake, you contemplated leaving. No one was answering. It was probably for the best.

The truth was years ago you had the chance to return but you refused. The only reason you were here now was for purely selfish reasons. The balance of good and bad had shifted and in your trail to correct the scale, you wound up in a lot of trouble. You had nowhere to go. Your home was no longer your own and you were on were on the run.

You sighed, turning around, and heading down the concrete path. The iron gate closed before you could leave. Your ears register a voice a second later. You spun around to be greeted by a young woman. She was short (but compared to you most women where) with long straight brown hair.

"Good, I got your attention, I thought you were going to escape," the woman joked. You chuckled awkwardly in response. Now that you were leaving, you did not really want to be there. "You knocked on the school's door?"

"-Yeah." You didn't even imagine the possibility of it not being- of course, it wouldn't be her. She was supreme now, she had better things to do than answering the school's door. "Yeah, sorry. I'm slighting out of it, nerves and all."

"It's alright. Most girls are nervous when they first arrive."

You chuckled once again, awkwardly, "I bet."

The woman let you inside telling you she would lead you to the Headmistress to fill out all the paperwork.

"Crap, I forgot she's in a meeting right now," the young woman said. "And I have to teach a class in a minute."

"You're a teacher?" The woman was used to the question from how young she was. "What age range are you teaching?"

"Right now, Pre-teen years. They're usually the worst to deal with."

"I bet. I could sit in and watch you teach them while we wait for Cordelia. Hell, you might be able to teach me something." Zoe hadn't mentioned the Supreme's name, so she assumed you knew it from the television segment a while back.

"If it doesn't bother you."

"It's no problem at all."

The woman led you to the kitchen dining room where a bunch of restless girls were mucking about. They all stilled, taking their seats, a few still mucking about as they did so. All the girls stared at you, one asking why you were so tall. You laughed, saying "Platforms" showing your four-inch platforms that were hidden by your floor-length skirt before you stole one of the free seats moving it out of the way so the woman could teach.

As the lesson when on you noticed one of the girls was struggling with her work. You noticed how she seemed to be too shy to ask for help. The girl beside her flying head and boasting about her skills, most likely bringing the girl down (unintentionally), in the process. You stood up and quietly as to not disturb the class and moved over to the girl.

"Hi, my name's Y/N. What's yours?" You asked her quietly.

"Emily," she whispered.

"Nice to meet you, Emily. Do you need any help with your work?" She shook her head. "Can I help you with your work?" She looked at you hesitantly then up to Ms who was too busy to notice you had moved over to the girl.

"If you want."

"How about you tell me what you're learning?" You started with. She shrugged. "What's the title of your worksheet?"

"Types of Magic?"

"Yes, that's correct. Now, what are the two main types of magic?" She remained quiet. "Clue: what's above you?"

"A roof?"

You chuckled, "Technically, that is right, but I meant that-" you point to the light globe.

"Oh, a light. Light and dark!" She got excited, raising her voice from a whisper. This caught the attention of the teacher.

"Yes, that's correct. All magic users fall into one of those two. Us witches fall into the light magic, even the darkest, most evil witch still uses light magic. There are others who would also fall into this side such as angels."

"Angels exist?"

"Supposedly. I've never met one," You said. "Even though there is light and dark magic, the purpose a person uses it for can differ. You know who I mentioned a witch using her light magic for evil?" Emily nodded. "She would be using-"

You went on explaining to Emily. A few of the girls around her joined in listening to you explain the course to her. You added pointers their teacher hadn't mentioned and some you picked up from your years of living a magic-filled life. You only noticed you had stolen the attention of all the girls when the others began asking you questions. The teacher was gone from where you last saw her. You asked the girl what the teacher's name was. You had forgotten to ask earlier.

"I'm so sorry Zoe, I didn't mean to take over your class," you said when you finally spotted her. "I was only trying to help Em with her work."

"Em?" Emily repeated.

"I give all my friends and family nicknames. I didn't think-" She leapt up and gave your waist a hug before you got another word in. She repeated the word friend back to you excited by the prospect of gaining a new friend. You gathered she was new or had a hard time with people since she found the idea of you being her friend exciting. You chuckled, rustling her hair with your hand. "Okay, enough hugging. I better let you get back to class. I stole enough of your time."

"Actually, class is over," Zoe said.

"Oh~ I'm so-" You went to apologise when the woman cut you off.

"No, it's fine. It's better they understand the work then rushing ahead and then not knowing it correctly." She silently conferred that what you had said to them was correct. She would have interrupted, adding her two sense if something seemed off. The teacher found your allegory's to be helpful in explaining the content as well as refreshing.

"Zoe's right, it's better that they understand the work. One wrong preformed spell and it could be disastrous." You knew that voice anywhere. "I was informed that we had a new student, so I came down as soon as I-"

Your head perked up to look at the woman that owned your body and soul. Your eyes begged for her to recognise you, to pull you into her embrace. You smiled sweetly at her in the way only you could. She returned the gesture. Her face was warm and welcoming as ever but as she got a better look at you, you noticed the change in her expression. The shift was slight but noticeable solely because you sought it out. You pulled yourself away from Emily carefully. As soon as you were detached, you headed over to the headmistress offering your gloved hand to her.

"L/N." She accepted your offer of a handshake. Her grip was strong excuding confidence dissimilar to the woman you left behind years prior. You kept a natural level of eye contact to not seem suspicious. Giving your last name was a test. You didn't want to scare her off immediately nor face the slap she will most likely give you when she puts the pieces together. "I was actually here to offer to be a teacher if you needed one," you said. "I know you had a large incline of students recently as well as limited staff. I don't know if that has since changed. Even if you just need someone to mark homework or assessments, I don't mind. I have all the credentials I would need for a normal teaching job along with working with children's card. Everything's in my satchel." You didn't find in necessary to mention the repercussions of not being accepted. Stating your problems wasn't your way. They were yours, there was no need to share.

"We can discuss this further in my office." Cordelia gestured into the hallway. You waved bye to the girls and said goodbye to Zoe.

Before Cordelia left Zoe pulled her aside. She noticed the facial expression shift too.

"You alright Cordelia?"

"Yeah," She whispered back to her friend. "She looks like a friend, I had years back."

"She could be a relative. Sister, daughter, cousin-"

"She had no living family," Cordelia told Zoe. "The girl's too old to be a daughter." She sighed, "It's fine, it's a freaky coincidence."

"You don't need to hire her."

"It would be helpful to have some extra help around here. She seemed to be great with the younger ones and we know how much of a feat that is." They both chuckled. "I shouldn't keep her waiting."

Cordelia kept eyeing you occasionally when talking to Zoe. You gathered she was talking about you, but it wasn't your place to listen. It's not nice to eavesdrop.

You remained quiet, listening for her to talk as the two of you headed to her office. Upstairs, first room on the right, just as you remembered. "As you know, that is Zoe. We had another teacher but unfortunately, we lost her. You will occasionally see an older woman here named Myrtle; she doesn't teach the students, but she helps me with council work." You smiled knowing Myrtle was here and still a part of the council.

Cordelia opened her office allowing you to walk in first. You noticed the familiar redhead in the corner of Cordelia's office drinking. Cordelia told you to take a seat at her desk while she got the paperwork ready. You pulled out your documentation placing it on the table before drawing your attention to the older woman behind you. Myrtle was talking to Cordelia about something irrelevant to you when she stopped mid-sentence, something you had never seen her do.

Cordelia cleared her throat, earning your attention. You spun around slowly. Cordelia told you that your documentation would not be relevant since they had an unorthodox away of job selecting. The past isn't relevant to her as long as you weren't her to bring harm to her girls. You insisted she took a look to ease your mind and to make her away of your qualifications.

"Now Y/N-" She wasn't meant to say that. She quickly went to cover it up, "Sorry I mean-" She picked up your papers searching your name on them.

"No, you were right." You adjusted the wire framed glasses on your face. One of the few new things about you. "Y/N M/N L/N."

"Is Y/N a family name?" Cordelia asked. "Like how some men name their son's the same name but call them junior."

"I don't believe so," You said, acting oblivious. You already came off strong demanding a job. "I don't have much of a family."

Cordelia's eyes widened. It couldn't be?

"Can I see your ID?"

"Sure." You fish through your bag pulling out a worn-down purse that she gifted to you years ago. Cordelia went to say something but held herself back, instead looking over to Myrtle with a questioning look. The oldest woman in the room shared the same level of confusion. "I should warn you; I apparently look a lot younger than my age."

You handed over your card to Cordelia.

"Y/n, what had you want to become a teacher?"

"Well, that's a tough question. I mean, where to begin?" You laughed. "I've always had a knack for the history of the Salem coven and it transformed into a fascination with magic in general. I guess I want to put my knowledge to good use. There's no point allowing it to waste away up here and recording it down in a book never sounded as appealing as verbally communicating it." Cordelia nodded along keeping a hold of your identification. "One of my friends used to joke that we'd both be here teaching together. Things didn't go as planned."

"They never do." Cordelia said. "I hope you don't mind but I need a secondary opinion on your resume." She ushered over Myrtle and the two had a quick conversation. She didn't believe you, she had to be asking about if it was possible, Myrtle would probably suggested plastic surgery as a possibility as to your appearance or some other thing you couldn't do.

"Could she have done Tempus Infinituum or something similar? It would explain why I- we haven't heard anything from her." The two look at you sat there twiddling your thumbs.

You always assumed your ageless appearance was some genetic thing or something to do with your magic. You're still trying to figure that out and was hoping she could help you out with that, or someone here could. Obviously, that wasn't your purpose for coming back.

"Is it really you Y/N?"

You nodded. Her eyes teared up and a smile formed on her face. She shook her head not wanting to jump the gun or overstep her boundary. It had been years and she had no clue what you had been through. It would have to be hell in order for you to leave. The two of you were inseparable before you vanished.

"I can prove it. Ask me anything only I would know."

Your words were enough, the tale you told of your friend and how much of a history buff you were.

"I can do one better, give me your hand." She laid her hand out for you to grab. You didn't understand. "A lot has happened since you left, one being I got The Sight."

As soon as you heard that you grabbed her hand allowing the skin to skin contact to explain away everything it had to. It hit you a second later, you shouldn't have rushed it. There were things she didn't need to know that she may now have access too. She tore your glove from your hand allowing her fingers to slip between yours. She gasped watching your earlier twenties up until now flash through her mind.

She retracted from you, allowing herself a moment to get air in her lungs. "Y-y-you-" she stuttered. Her eyes flicked from you to her aunt. Shock covered her face. Her eyes settled on you and you expected her to say something about how this was unbelievable. "Why are your hands so cold?"

"What?" Not what you were expecting.

"You're freezing, I'm going to find you a blanket."

"You don't need to, I'm fine-" Her glare at you urged you to shut you up quickly. She used to do the same thing back in the day. "I'm serious, I'm always this cold. Why do you think I dress like this?"

You got up, following her down the corridor and up the stairs to a bedroom. You attempted to reason with her that you were fine, you were always ice cold which concerned her more. "That's not normal Y/N/N" 'Y/N/N?' You smiled upon hearing your nickname from long ago.

"You'll learn not a lot about me is-" You kidded.

"Sit down on the bed, I'm getting out the winter blankets."

"But it's summer-"

"And your freezing."

She headed into her closet only returning a few minutes later with the thickest blanket she owned. You were already dressed inappropriately for the weather, cloaked in long sleeved maxi length dress, thick woollen stockings, below the knee boots that were hidden by your dress. You also had a cardigan you removed upon entering the school grounds. Cordelia wrapped the blanket around before forcing you to lay down. You whined, using that you were wearing shoes as an excuse. She removed them, seeing how much big the sole was she asked, "How do you walk in these?"

"How do you walk in heels?"

"Touche."

The two of you started cackling. Soon you were swaddled up in a blanket, lying on what you assumed was Cordelia's bed telling stories and laughing at each other's misfortune like it was old times. You had learned the unfortunate events that led to her ex-husbands death. A witch hunter, you should have guessed.

"I missed you," Cordelia admitted. You remained quiet, wanting to say it back but not having the courage. Like the last time, you had seen her, her wedding. You, the maid of honour, left early. You knew you would have to explain it to her, but you couldn't. You didn't want to force your feelings onto her, that's why you never told her then and that's why you can't tell her you missed her now. You missed her more than she could ever believe. "I saw- I mean... I know. I know you miss me too." She moved closer to you, resting her head onto your shoulder. "I know you missed me too."

[finadmin]

What is the Best Strategy to apply in new fin-related Projects (with Cloud Integration) - 5 Steps

Hello, I hope you are having an amazing week!

Today I bring to you one of the most discussed topics that me and my group talk about. I think you’ll find this helpful so keep a good eye until the end.

The creation of corporate projects goes through several moments. In planning a new initiative, the manager must pool resources, people, and tools to ensure everyone works the best they can, with no mistakes occurring and risks are low. This ensures that the company will be able to achieve its objectives without great difficulties, in addition to maximizing the results achieved.

1. What is a Plan and a good Strategy?

In the Work Plan must be consolidated all the information about the objective to be sought, detailing for it all the activities necessary to realize it, as to the physical, monetary and human resources needed. This tool allows all decisions to be taken before they are put into practice, guaranteeing a higher rate of correctness and making possible the prior correction of possible problems. In this way, it is very suitable for reaching short-term solutions, but nothing prevents it from being used in other circumstances as well.

The action plan can be used by professionals who want to achieve some goal in their careers or by companies that need to invest in more complex solutions. It enables the executor to follow a sequence of clearer and more logical tasks previously delimited, which leads to the achievement of goals faster and more practical. Its effectiveness is mainly explained by the fact that it considers the internal and external conditions of the individual or the company to set up adequate strategies to be performed in a certain period of time.

2. Teamwork above everything!

Seeking to visualize all parts of the process and the necessary steps - that is, to see beyond one's own activities - is the best way to understand how each is important to achieve the end result. According to the management coordinator, trust is indispensable for a good performance of a team that has a common goal. And it must be mutual, so strive to pass on trust to others. A person who knows how to work in a team understands that the conflict of opinions can generate better results. When, on the contrary, in an efficient team, everyone knows that to evolve and reach (or surpass) expectations, it is also necessary to give and receive feedback.

3. Fin-related control for new projects

A project exists to meet the expectations of the stakeholders in the generation of a product, service or result. However, when we work in a company that lives on projects, it is fundamental that they make a profit, because only through it is possible to maintain a healthy business. Everything that is measured can be controlled, so in this post I present a framework for cost management in projects based on a support worksheet that does all the calculations necessary to keep the project under control. Subsequently, I will show you how to join all the projects to make the whole company management. To plan the expenses, you must fill in the details according to the categories that your project works. In the example, you can check the same categories described above, now with the possibility to plan monthly, as shown in the following figure. When the project is calculated from the costs, the worksheet applies these percentages to the total values ​​of each section / account (Ex: Resale, third, working hours etc). When the price is arbitrary, the worksheet makes a weighted average to distribute the ticket. That is, redistribute the percentages on the basis of 100%.

4.  Pick the best cloud data integration

Starting on Salesforce Platform - They allow users to easily update contact information. If you do a Google search of a specific person, who you know is at a different company, 9 times out of 10, you'll find that all search results display the past company and there's really no way to change that without opening a support ticket. With Connect, you can create an account and update the title, company, email, etc. without going through all of those extra steps.The user interface feels simple like Salesforce Classic, which makes it very easy to navigate the site. The advanced search is also a powerful feature with many filters, which makes it a great tool for refining your target industry/role.What I like best about Connect is that it's technically free to use. You can purchase points to buy actual contacts, but I find it much more worthwhile to create an account and generate points by adding or updating contacts and companies. (this review is from Connor B. another member).

TIBCO Cloud Integration -  It is responsive, as soon as all Metadata has been cached and easy to use after a short introduction phase. The maps we build can be reused for other Migration projects. I've had maps that worked just fine in the classic UI, but I would get errors after opening them in the new UI. From a functionality standpoint, the tool is 100% effective and what we need. We'd love it to process records and load metadata a little faster, but in the end, we can live with the way it is now and the integrations are reliable. (this review is from Michael D. another member).

There are other great platforms like Carbonite, Microsoft Azure, IBM, and much more that you can easily find on google search. The Salesforce and TIBCO are our top 2. 

5. Be patient but efficient - control time like money 

Maintain your composure, always - Maybe you end up exploding and consequently provoke and push others when you are stressed. Try to avoid harsh and instantaneous reactions. That is what is possibly causing you problems. After all, drawing hasty conclusions, categorically rejecting what others say, and finally using an inflamed speech is not a good motivational strategy. Others will find you a closed or combative person, when what you really want is to be seen as reasonable. If the scenario is more negative, you may even think that you consider the other professionals stupid and uninformed. You can send someone in your place to deliver the message. Or you can still wait until the next meeting to react. They select the rhythm, style, tone, tempo, and tactics after assessing what works best in each situation. It is the inflexible people who have sensitivity problems because they do not know how to adjust what they say according to the public. Open your mind to the different - Maybe you are stubborn or are showing signs of stubbornness, becoming inflexible and closing in on new or different points of view. You need to turn off your automatic evaluation and rejection filter and listen.

That’s it, now you’re ready! This is our 5 steps to achieve it!

If you have any questions please don’t hesitate do ask in the comments. And remember that next article/post will be better (yes that’s possible) because we’re constantly improving our content.

[cosmosogler]

hello. i played with snoopy last night (i think i mentioned) and she actually didn’t wake me up all night for the first time in eighteen hundred years!!

so i got approximately seven and a half hours of sleep. it was great. i was exhausted all day.

i taught both my class sections. got another guy worried about his grade. my mysterious missing student showed up though and we set about trying to fix his grade too.

actually both sections finished ~20 minutes early so i actually got a lunch break!!! i ate most of my food before i even had to run over to the drc.

i talked to danielle for a little while. we reached our goal for the semester, which was to get my accommodations in place and find an individual therapist. then i went to the meeting for dealing with test anxiety. i was the only one who showed up so i just talked extensively about my experiences with tests this semester and we worked out stuff for me to try as i move forward. 

“we” being danielle, jess (i think that’s her name?), and me.

the evening before my next test i’m going to spend some time filling out at least one cbt worksheet that i have left over from my undergrad therapist. and i’m going to actually for real do breathing exercises at the beginning of my tests since i have extra time. 

then i biked back over to the department, spent an hour watching a review of soma (i liked the game just as much as the reviewer), and then packed up my stuff and biked home. i spent the evening making some dinner, baking muffins, taking care of snoopy, and ACTUALLY DOING SOME HOMEWORK AAAAA!!!!!!! I DID HALF A PROBLEM!!!

i have to tell myself that that’s enough. i did enough. any homework is a victory. and i worked for a whole hour, which is an hour more than i had worked on it, which had been zero hours.

i still gotta play note catch-up and upload a large amount of grades to a place where my students can actually see them. i can’t access my grade database from home though so that’ll have to wait until after lab prep tomorrow. we’re on our last grad lab session. i think all of us are still teaching physics 1 next semester so we won’t have to meet for 2-3 hours every friday. that’s kind of fantastic, considering how little time all of us have.

feels like i’m catching a cold. my throat is really sore and scratchy. not sure where i could have picked that up. i hope it’s just from breathing cold air or something while i was biking and it goes away in the morning. i’m out of clean mugs so i didn’t go for any tea or anything.

oh yeah i also did my dishes. i technically have clean mugs now but it’s after 10 and i don’t want to have to get up and go to the bathroom in an hour after i’m in bed.

i think that’s about everything i have to say about my day right now. after my appointment with the drc i started feeling really staticky. that’s why i went home early. also i was hungry. but i noticed that i was hesitating when i went to start my homework. i’m glad i was able to get some stuff done at the very least. breaking down that mental block is always rough when i go a few days without doing any homework problems. or a few weeks... maybe this will help me build up some momentum toward catching up though.

i saw a photo of myself today from the symposium last thursday. upon seeing myself in the background in one photo i was filled with a sick dread. i don’t look right. i hate the way i sit. the way it looks.

hmm. something positive today is that i actually did some homework, AND while i was at home on top of that! i wrote over two full pages of math. (that’s half a problem.) 

i might not be able to run out for dinner at the bar with my friends tomorrow. i’m gonna try to rope keegan and harrison into some rounds of smash and see if that will do it for a friday break since i have a mountain of homework to finish. i didn’t get to cross ANYTHING off my to-do list today even though i didn’t spend that much time screwing around. at least i don’t feel like i did. i just had... a whole lot of other stuff to do for six hours out of my day not to mention travel time.

at least i was able to wake up on time again finally. i’m going to try to get a little more sleep tonight. not sure how i’m going to accomplish that, but watch me try.

[queenchemistry]

I'll be at UMich this fall ('21) as a STEM student in the LSA, and I wondered if you had any advice, especially within the specific context of U of M. Thanks ✨

Hi there!! :) I feel like I have a lot of advice for incoming freshmen and I’ve been busy with work, so it’s taken me a while to compose this reply but here we go:

Advice for incoming freshmen in STEM at UMich!

Figuring out what classes to take & when:

See what your AP/IB scores count for at LSA here. Not having to retake introductory classes can make a huge difference in your 4-year planning (or may mean graduating early)! But it might help to retake certain intro classes if you don’t feel confident about your abilities to succeed in the higher level classes.

If you’re worried about a class because you heard it was a GPA-wrecker, consider taking it at a community college over the summer. Your grade will show up on your transcript, but it will not affect your GPA.

If you have an idea of what majors you are interested in, you can look up “UMich [major] worksheet” or go to departmental websites at umich.edu for a list of required classes for each major. An example from the Chemistry department is here. The pre-health advisory courses can be found here.

If you have no idea what majors you’re interested in, that’s okay! Use your freshman and sophomore years to explore the sciences. Most science majors at LSA will require some calculus and physics, but also look into courses like organic chemistry and introductory biology. If you’re pre-health, you’ll have to take a wide variety of introductory classes anyway. You can find a list of LSA majors and minors here.

Try to get calculus out of the way as soon as possible! It could be required for physics and upper-level chemistry courses. Or if you find out you love math, you’ll be glad you’re on track for the math major.

Keep a manageable course-load for freshman year. Your first semester will require effort to adjust to university life. Advisors say first-semester freshmen should take 14-16 credits (about 4 classes). In my opinion, you should focus on a balance between easy and hard classes. For instance, in my first semester, I took organic chemistry 1, calculus 3, a writing class, and UROP (research + seminars for credit). So basically my schedule was: a difficult class I’m interested in, a difficult pre-requisite, an easy class required for LSA, and an easy “class” that I was interested in.

How to succeed in science/math classes at UMich:

General advice: give 110% effort into your first midterms- do all the homework, textbook readings, practice exams; attend every lecture, go to office hours, form a study group… the possibilities are endless! After the first exam, you’ll figure out which resources you need to put the most time into to succeed in a class. 

Some specific resources you can go to for help include the Math Lab, the Physics Help Room, and the Science Learning Center (SLC) for introductory physics, chemistry, and biology classes. The SLC has study groups that you can register for at the beginning of the semester, as well as drop-in tutoring.

Make friends with the people sitting next to you in class! You don’t have to become BFFs, but it helps to at least exchange numbers so you can text about meeting up to study.

Try to get on your professor’s good side. It will help you tremendously in the future if you can have a professor write you a strong letter of recommendation, and it can help in the short-term to have your professors like you. Best ways to do this? Introduce yourself after the first lecture, attend office hours whenever possible, sit in the front of the class, and ask/answer questions during class. If you’re feeling extra spicy, you can even ask your professor out to lunch or coffee. There will be emails sent out mid-semester about professor lunch date coupons. I forget the technical name for this though haha.

Math: “Michigan Math” is supposedly infamous for its teaching style. As my residential advisor put it, “the class teaches you how to build a table, but the exam will ask you to build a chair.” That is to say, the math classes here are fairly conceptual rather than computational. To prepare for exams, review the assigned homework problems, in-class examples, and past exams (which can be found online) and be able to solve similar problems. Figuring out how to approach a problem can be the hardest part, and that’s where talking to professors, tutors, or friends in your class will help.

Physics: There are several physics sequences at UMich (algebra-based physics for the life sciences, and regular and honors calculus-based physics). I took the life sciences physics because the math was less intensive and I like health-related subjects. However, I’ve studied with friends in other physics sequences and it seems like the same general advice applies: understand how to do all the problems you’re given. I found physics here to be more computational than conceptual, compared to math. I believe all the introductory physics classes allow some kind of notes to be brought in; it helps to write down how to do specific problems from past exams, the lectures, and the homework.

Chemistry: I keep hearing that organic chemistry 1 and 2 are the hardest classes at UMich. Based on the grade distribution for the classes (mostly A’s and B’s), I don’t believe this is true. You don’t need to remember much from gen chem to do well in orgo, though it helps to have a background in drawing molecular structures and in acid-base chemistry. My best advice for organic chemistry is to complete the coursepack (a workbook full of old exams) and compare your answers with friends, tutors, and professors. Talking about the chemistry requires an understanding of it, so keep discussing the course material with anyone you can! It might help to know orgo 1 is more conceptual and orgo 2 is more memorization-based. As for gen chem, I’ve heard it is a bit harder than AP Chemistry since it’s packed into one semester, but the online homework is helpful in preparing for exams.

Biology: I don’t know too much about the intro bio classes here, but my general advice still applies here. A friend told me that the bio classes are saturated with a lot of information that you need to memorize, so you have to start studying early and stay on top of the material. Look at lectures beforehand and take good notes. Know that it’s okay to feel overwhelmed; there’s a lot of material you’ll need to know, but it’s definitely possible to know it.

Extracurricular shenanigans:

There seem to be two common opinions among STEM students regarding participation in extracurriculars: either narrow it down to a few activities that are most meaningful to you, or smush in as many résumé-builders as possible. Personally, I think a few meaningful extracurricular experiences are more important than half a dozen clubs that will eat up your free time.

Research is huge at Michigan! There are research opportunities everywhere on campus and in every field, so it’d be a shame if you graduated without taking advantage of that. If you have a good idea of what you want to major in, then look for related research labs by perusing the departmental sites on umich.edu. If you don’t know what you want to study, brainstorm your research interests and look for labs in different departments that meet your interests. Once you’ve found several (~5-10) labs you’re interested in, write the professors in whose labs you’re interested an email briefly stating your interest in their research, attach your résumé, and ask for an interview (also tell them your schedule). It’s not terribly common for freshmen to participate in research their first year, so it’s more than okay to wait until sophomore or junior year to start research.

STEM clubs can be a great way to network with other STEM students at UMich! I can’t think of all of them off the top of my head, but the ones I know about include Out in STEM (oSTEM) for LGBT students, Society of Women in Engineering (SWE), Women in Science and Engineering (WISE) (which has both a residential program and a non-residential program), the chemistry/science fraternity Alpha Chi Sigma, and the American Chemical Society local chapter. If you’re looking for a good club, you can hit up FestiFall in the beginning of September and attend the mass meetings of clubs you think you’d like. For the rest of the year, you can search Maize Pages for clubs you’re interested in.

There are also several pre-health extracurriculars that you can find by attending the pre-health orientation, which occurs after move-in. I think all LSA students should receive an email about it early September or late August. If you can’t make the orientation, it’s not a biggie. You can find the pre-health extracurriculars in the same way you find any other extracurricular.

That’s all I could come up with for now! If you’ve got any more specific questions, please don’t hesitate to ask. :) And if anyone else has related advice, go ahead and let us know!

Best of luck and go blue!

[smokydrake]

“Friendly Neighborhood Watch” | Young Sam x Reader | FLUFF

WARNINGS: suggestive, language

WORD COUNT: 6,485

DESCRIPTION: There are four days left of school before Graduation Day. It’s so goddamn obvious you and your childhood best friend Samuel Drake feel the same thing for each other… but you won’t say anything because you don’t want to risk your established friendship, and Sam doesn’t want to say anything because he can’t risk giving himself away. But when two people are a perfect match for each other, some things are bound to be revealed sooner or later.

This is technically Part 2 of “Trick of the Light”, but you don’t have to read that in order to understand this (regardless I’ll still leave the link to it below). I’m really pleased with how this one came out because it just makes my heart so happy like aw Sam :,)) It switches between Reader and Samuel so sorry if it’s kinda unclear as to whose POV you’re reading from haha *sweats intensely*

And I also wanna tag @le-ephemere @hyperionbabe @a-n-g-e-l-frommynightmare and @nataliarmnov because you guys are SO NICE and left such sweet comments on Part 1 ily please enjoy

Trick of the Light

Inspired by this song (Rather Be With You - Sinead Harnett)

The only reason why you were with Rafe Adler in the first place was because you were lonely.

Well, more like the one guy you were ever seriously in to never paid attention to you the way you wanted him to, and conveniently, Rafe Adler transferred to your shithole high school and you thought he’d be a lovely distraction.

Except that, despite getting together with Rafe, you still couldn’t get over your one true crush.

The boy next door, your childhood sweetheart, your best friend: Samuel Drake.

You remember precisely when you started crushing hard on that boy. You were in middle school, still in your semi-awkward tween stage, lost in the masses of equally confused prepubescent boys and girls trying to find their places in the social hierarchy. Sam was one of the popular kids; he and his little brother were both notorious for their mischievous methods of cutting class and their bright, cheeky grins. Always the one with extravagant (although mostly exaggerated) tales of adventures, it was expected for girls and boys to flock around Samuel Drake. His heady Bostonian voice and loopy grin managed to light up any room he walked into; Samuel Drake had this laid-back, passionate, and approachable dynamic.

And on top of that… it was almost painful how good-looking he was.

So when senior year of high school rolled around, it wasn’t a surprise that he’d be quarterback of the varsity football team and “Class Clown” in the annual yearbook. You can’t remember how many girls approached you, asking for your help as wing woman because you were his best friend. It was pathetic. One, because you felt used and grew wary whenever girls were friendly with you, two, because, well, you liked Samuel Drake, and you refused to be lumped into the same absurd group of those fanatical girls.

You knew it was petty. Using Rafe, who was a pretty decent guy (although occasionally quite full of himself) as a twisted form of self-preservation and a defense mechanism against rejection. Hell, it was plain shitty: you kissed him the night of the homecoming game knowing that the star quarterback was watching just to prove a nonexistent point. Sam probably didn’t even care that you were dating Rafe. He was always messing around with other girls, girls who were cheer captains and homecoming queens, gorgeous girls equally as popular as Sam.

It hurt you to feel this way for Sam; it was impossible for him to be romantically interested in you because you guys were best friends. There was nothing you could do. You had a thing for him, and it wasn’t like those little things that went away with time; it was one of those big things, the ones that you couldn’t control.

-

A light knocking on the wooden table interrupts your carefully-curated method of memorizing the historical timeline of the ancient Persian wars for your upcoming final exam.

Looking up from your history textbook, Samuel Drake, wearing his stupid half-smile and his stupid denim jacket that you’ve poked fun of countless times (yet love to see him in), lazily slides into the empty lunch table seat in front of you. You pull an earbud from your left ear.

“Hello? Anyone home?” He waves at you ridiculously, peering behind nonexistent windows and doorways.

“Wrong house,” you answer wryly.

Knowing that he now has your attention, Sam scoots forward in his seat and leans his chin on his knuckles. “Hi neighbor,” he says simply, almost suspiciously.

You raise an eyebrow, holding up a hand to stop him from saying anything more. “Not so fast. I know you’re up to something.”

He laughs a hearty laugh, and you feel his shoes underneath the table bump against your ankles when he leans back. Something skips in your chest. “You are too smart for your own good, y'know that?”

A smile triumphantly crosses your face. “I do know that.”

He narrows his eyes jokingly at you, and then shakes his head. “No one likes a know-it-all. You goin' to Nadine’s grad party tonight?” He then frowns and turns his attention to your open textbook. “Jeez, Y/N. We’re graduating in four days. And you’re still studying?” He flicks through a couple of pages, losing your reading spot.

“Hey!” You swat at his hands and yank the book from his grasp, earning you a poorly hidden grin. “You know, colleges can still decline acceptance if you have shit grades. So yes, I am studying. And thanks a lot, you lost my page.”

He winks at you. “No problem, I do my best.”

You roll your eyes at him, but you’re anything but upset. This is normal; Sam being happy-go-lucky about everything that you rarely ever see him serious, and you being the one constantly trying to keep him out of trouble. It is just another day spent with Samuel Drake and his carefree nature, dealing with his playful antics, and secretly being head-over-heels smitten with him.

“Hey but for real. Please go. I don’t wanna be lonely,” he pouts at you.

You sigh, abandoning your history notes. “I dunno. She’s kinda intimidating.”

At this, Sam scoffs. “C’mon, Nadine’s the nicest person ever. Sort of. But whatever, I heard there’s gonna be a shit-ton of booze,” he wiggles his eyebrows.

“Ew, stop that,” you scrunch your nose, reaching out to hold his squirming eyebrows in place with your thumbs.

“Why? You don’t find it attractive?”

“No!” Your scowl grows into a giggle, and Sam laughs at your laughing. You shove his shoulder once, playfully, and then he pinches your dimples with a thumb and forefinger. “Fine, I’ll think about it,” you finally say.

Sam raps his fingers on the edge of the table. “Sweet. Where’s Rafe?”

“He’s in the library studying.”

“Not here with you?”

You shrug, unconcerned. It didn’t even cross your mind that Rafe isn’t with you until Sam had brought it up.

You two sit at the table quietly, unsure where to continue with conversation. Normally, there aren’t many awkward silences between you two. But, ever since that night, things have been a little… different.

The night you caught Sam watching you touch yourself.

In all honesty, what you did was partially in the spur of the moment and partially somewhat thought out. You had heard the ping of your text notifications, one unread message from a Sam Drake, and you just happened to have noticed him at his window, merely a dark figure shadowed by his almost-closed blinds. Driven by your high, you found his gaze and held onto it, turned on by the fact that he was watching you. Little did he know that it was him in your thoughts, doing all sorts of unsayable things to you.

You both have yet to acknowledge it. So far, you’ve been acting as if nothing happened. Sam is doing the same. You’re not sure what will happen if you say something about it, and part of you doesn’t want to know. But what you do know for sure is that there are new tensions between you and Samuel Drake, and they cannot be contained for long.

Sam opens his mouth to say something, but then the shrill ringing of the lunch bell interrupts his train of thought. He closes his lips with a tight smile and gets up from the table. “Later neighbor,” he calls to you with a flash of a smile before disappearing into the crowd of chattering backpacks and textbooks.

-

“Hey, what are you supposed to wear to grad parties anyway?��

At the sound of her voice, Samuel’s ears perked up. Dramatically, he turned in his swivel chair to see Y/N leaning out the window of her room, her elbows resting on the white windowsill and lips pressed into a perfect pout. Sam’s blinds were up and his window was open too, giving him full view of her room a couple of meters across from his. Her hair was curled and pinned up with rollers, and Samuel thought she looked stupid adorable.

He checked the digital clock on his desk. It was 6:40pm, and the sun was drowning itself in the invasive night sky. He shrugged at the girl next door. “Hell if I know. Check that Pinspiration site, or whatever.” He threw a crumpled math worksheet through his window at her, which she batted away with ease, conditioned by years of practice.

“Ha, nice try. It’s in your yard,” she teased, pointing at the small wad of paper near the bottom side of his fence. Then she made a face at him. “Wait, did you seriously just say Pinspiration? Sam, it’s called Pinterest.”

He grinned quietly, pretending to turn his attention back to the video playing on his desktop. He heard her groan and mutter something under her breath before turning away from the window.

He cherished moments like this: how casual they were with each other. But time was ticking. They were graduating in just a handful of days. Afterwards, summer would fly by in the blink of an eye, and then she’d be gone, off to an Ivy League in the south. He had gotten a football scholarship to a college on the East Coast, and he calculated; he’d be 2,660 miles away from home.

Away from her.

It stabbed at his chest every time he thought about it. He was happy here. Of course, he was also excited for college, but he knew that there would be no place like home. It was only a matter of time before they would have to part ways, and he wasn’t sure how well he was going to handle good-byes.

Something light smacked against his hair, hitting the floor at his feet with a small thunk.

“Take that, Samuel Drake!” Her voice rang again, this time louder and full of glee. She had chucked her own paper ammunition at him, catching him off guard as he swam through his dismal thoughts.

Sam turned to the window again and raised both eyebrows. He reached to swipe the crumpled ball from the ground and leaned back in his chair, shaking his head at her as she did a little dance of victory. She had taken the rollers out, and her hair cascaded down her shoulders and curved against her rosy cheeks. He bit his lip out of habit, wishing that he could keep her forever.

“Now pay attention to me,” she huffed. “How’s this?” She called to him, pushing back her powder blue curtains so that he could get a better look. She was wearing a sleeveless top and a casual pair of jeans, and he admired how she could make something so simple look so effortlessly sexy.

“Great,” he replied coolly, masking the effect she had on him. “You ready to go? I can give you a ride.”

He hoped she would say yes. He drove a motorcycle: a silver Suzuki 500cc that he absolutely loved to death. He had only taken her on it once. He remembered distinctly what it was like to have the icy wind slice at his skin while her warm arms were wrapped tightly around his body. Those were probably the two best feelings in the whole entire world.

But she just shook her head and waved a dismissive hand at him. “It’s okay, my friends are taking me tonight. I’ll just meet you there?”

“Sure,” He said back, getting up from his seat to stretch his arms and to hide his disappointment. “See you in a few.”

-

Nadine’s party is huge. You’re not talking about the house itself; it’s a cookie-cutter two story like yours, but the party… it’s the biggest bash you’ve ever laid your eyes upon.

Her house is brightly lit, thudding energetically with the beat of R&B and crowded with cars parked dangerously along the curb. Teenagers line the front lawn, in the open garage, on the roof; it’s almost chaotic.

“Shit, this place is sick,” your friends squeal, eagerly linking their arms through both of your elbows.

You and your small group work your way inside the house, pushing through the huddled groups of people, some sober, some utterly wasted. Couples hide behind not-so-hidden corners making out, and somewhere at the back of the house, you can hear ecstatic hollering after a round of beer pong. You can’t help but laugh; Nadine’s is something straight out of a 90’s high school chick flick.

You and your friends are finally in the living room, and everywhere you look, there are just people, more people, and even more people. Coincidentally, you make eye contact with Nadine Ross, prom queen two years in a row and salutatorian of your class, lounging on her sofa with her enviously attractive group of friends. She gives you a welcoming grin and you return it to the best of your abilities, secretly giddy at the fact that you’ve been acknowledged by the Nadine Ross.

Your friend at your right elbow tugs at your arm and points across the room. “Ooh, girl, there’s your man,” she coos.

For a second, you think of Sam. Your heart does a little dance, but when you turn your gaze, it’s not who you’re thinking of. Instead, your darkly handsome and lean boyfriend, Rafe Adler, stands in the kitchen, chatting with a couple of his lacrosse teammates, bumping fists and red Solo cups. You blush when your friends tease you, embarrassed by their suggestive remarks.

“Go get ‘em, tiger,” your other friend jokes, bumping your hip towards Rafe in the kitchen. Before you can even refuse, they’re gone, off mingling with others in an instant. You sigh, secretly amused by their playfulness as you wiggle your way through dancing bodies and sloshing alcoholic drinks.

You’re about to call out to Rafe when you catch the familiar tuft of messy brown hair and easy eyes from the corner of your eyesight. Samuel Drake leans against the dimly lit wall a little to your right, barely visible behind some vaguely familiar band kids passing around a blunt.

Butterflies float happily in your stomach. Rafe forgotten, you turn towards Sam’s direction with a grin on your face. You make your way through the band kids, peering over tall heads before you spot him.

Him and Crystal.

You stop in your tracks just before the two of them notice you. Sam has his hand on her waist and she is close, very close, to him that her blonde hair is pressed against his jawline.

Crystal was only one of the many pretty girls Sam has been on and off with in the past. She was one of the recurring ones, the ones that you saw Sam kiss goodbye on his motorcycle, saw Sam argue with, saw Sam make up with, saw Sam bring back home in the dead of the night. Crystal was his problematic favorite and your problematic problem.

You feel a sharp plummet in your stomach. You want to unsee them together, but you can’t. So you retreat quietly, disappearing from their line of sight.

As you turn to weave through the band kids again, your mood makes a significant turn for the worse. You feel left out and ignored. Sam invited you here tonight, for what? He looked happy with Crystal. Seeing them together served as a reminder that he saw you, vulnerable and dressed in nothing but moonlight, but still felt nothing for you.

You are almost frustrated to the point of tears. Blinking your eyes furiously, you push your way to the kitchen where Rafe is and wave him down. He takes notice of you quickly, and you are thankful for the distraction.

“Y/N,” Your boyfriend calls, reaching out to wrap an arm around your shoulder. “Hey stranger,” he smiles easily, handing you his cup in hand.

You take a swig at the drink and peck his cheek. You know it’s awful. You’re playing Rafe, keeping him around so that you won’t feel lonely. What you have with him is nothing like what you have with Sam; the chemistry isn’t as natural. But you’re tired of waiting for someone who doesn’t love you the way you love them. You’ve been playing this game of chase for too long… maybe it was time to put it in the past.

-

It shouldn’t have mattered, should’ve it?

Y/N was dating Rafe, and he was dating Crystal.

No, “dating” wasn’t the right term for it– Samuel was talking to Crystal. They weren’t official or anything like that; just a boy and a girl looking for something to keep themselves occupied with in the meantime.

Why was he so annoyed?

He had to admit. He wasn’t expecting Crystal to be at the party, let alone get distracted by her presence and easy conversation. What he really wanted was to get a chance to spend his final high school nights with, Y/N, the girl of his dreams, and then take her home on his motorcycle, where he’d get the chance to tell her how he really felt.

But it was harder than it sounded.

Occasionally, he would look around while Crystal was talking, casually searching the perimeter for Y/N. She was nowhere in sight… oh. There she was.

Y/N was in the kitchen, drinking whatever cheap liquor Nadine had lining the cluttered countertops. Rafe was there too, knocking back shots. Samuel noticed that she was drinking heavily, laughing with her boyfriend inaudibly over the pounding music.

She was never like this.

Samuel knew that Y/N wasn’t the best at holding down her alcohol. Two or three shots, tops. But at the alarming rate she was going at… things were not going to end well.

He was getting worried, anxious. What was she doing? She usually knew her limits… she was always the sensible one between the two of them.

“Hey, Sam.”

Samuel turned to look at Crystal who now stood further away from him. Her small arms were crossed and her languid body faced his, but her blue eyes were elsewhere. He followed her line of sight, and saw that she too was looking at Y/N in the kitchen.

“You have feelings for her, don’t you?”

Her tone wasn’t accusatory, nor was it angry.

Samuel didn’t know what to say. He had never said it out loud before.

“It’s really not that hard, you know. To tell her.”

Samuel laughed dryly at this. He didn’t mean for it to sound so scornful, but it did. “What? I don’t know what--”

She shook her head at him apathetically. “Stop. Just stop it.”

He looked at her. Really looked at her. Crystal was a girl that he had spent a lot of time with only because the girl he really wanted wasn’t for him to call his. Now, looking at her, he realized that she not only was she attractive; she was observant, keen, and probably better off without him.

She only stared back, and the two of them stood there, looking at each other with mutual dispassion.

“You need to stop lying to yourself, Sam. It doesn’t help anybody.”

She was first to walk away, and Samuel knew that she wouldn’t be coming back. And he was thankful for that in a bittersweet way.

-

“SHIT, THE COPS!”

“EVERYONE, GET OUT!”

You’re not exactly sure what that means.

Oh, wait– something bad. You should maybe leave, like now.

Rafe is gone. You don’t know where he went; it’s like he disappeared into thin air. Your friends are also nowhere in sight, and all you can see are people scrambling, jumping, and running everywhere.

It’s hard for you to focus; everything around you is disoriented and your vision spins every once in a while. You try to get up, but your knees give out and you end up stumbling against the kitchen counter. You giggle, tipsy from those shots you and Rafe did together just a second ago.

A tall, familiar body approaches you. “Y/N! We gotta go!”

Oh.

Him.

Sam Drake. That stupid boy next door that gave your heart way too much grief. You want to be done with him and his pretty face and mild smolder. He’s looking at you now with frantic, annoying puppy eyes. Why did he come back for you? Where is Rafe?

“I don’t wanna,” you try to say, but your voice comes out in a tiny whisper.

“Nope, not an option,” he says as he wraps an arm around your abdomen and hoists you up. He mutters something under his breath that you can’t catch as he leads you out of the house. The two of you are outside on the front lawn when you hear the sirens and see the illuminated red and blue flashing.

“Damn it,” Sam curses under his breath, his eyes frantically searching around. “C’mon, this way.”

Lacking any serious concern, you hobble after Sam with your hand in his towards the back end of the street, where his red and silver motorcycle parks under a low shade of tree branches. You notice its ruggedness and classic build, and you take note of the familiar characteristics of its proud owner.

Sam swiftly hops onto his motorcycle. He snaps back the kickstand with his heel and flicks on the headlight. He gives you a sideways glance and jabs his thumb at the small space behind him. “Get on and hold tight, you hear me?”

You nod sleepily. Slowly climbing on behind him, you wrap your arms around his waist and press your cheek to his back, happy to be so close to him. He smells like a fresh shower and cloudy engine smoke.

Muffled shadows of running people scatter all around in flashing red and blue. The motorcycle jerks forward with a sputter, and then the two of you shoot off, the sound of whining sirens gradually dissipating into the dark. You gasp, taken aback by the hurtling momentum. Your surroundings race by at hyper-speed, but your eyes can only process things one at a time. Everything around you is a blur of color; the green traffic lights, the glowing red shop signs, the flickering yellow of the streetlamps. Your eyes start to roll to the back of your head.

“Everything okay back there?” Sam shouts to the air, turning his head slightly to look at you. You blink your eyes, trying to keep them open. He’s the one thing you can see clearly; his hair is tousled by the wind, his freckles are pinkish-red from the cool air, and his hazel eyes are fiery and alive. A neon fusion of color frames his face, reminiscent of a static VHS glitch.

You try to tighten your grip on him, but your head dizzies. Your muscles don’t comply and your arms start to slip from his waist.

“Hey, hey!” One of Sam’s hands catches your wrists, holding them in place. “You keep your arms around me, a’right?”

“Mkay,” you hiccup and your forehead knocks against his shoulder blade.

“Jesus, Y/N. You’re giving me a heart attack.”

“Sam, I wanna go home.”

You vaguely feel a gentle squeeze of his hands on yours, a silent physical “okay”. Sam kicks up the speed, and then the two of you dart off again, weaving between dark cars on the streets, leaving behind a trail of rubber and smoke and sleepy laughter.

-

He felt alive.

His motorcycle reverberated violently underneath him, hungry for speed. Faster. He needed to go faster.

Samuel shifted the motorcycle up a gear, giving him less resistance and more traction. He accelerated noisily around the corner and through empty lanes, his heart pounding furiously at every drunk giggle that erupted from Y/N’s lips.

God, he felt so good.

The air lashed at his face, whipping his hair furiously against his forehead and neck. He couldn’t help it; a smile crept up his face, soon followed by a loud whoop of exhilaration. Y/N laughed even harder at this, and Samuel did it again, basking in the thrill of the night and her voice.  

The arms around his stomach tightened.

“Wait, waitwaitSamwait–“

Samuel instantly gripped the brakes, screeching his motorcycle. “What? What??”

“I’mgonnathrowup–“

“Son of a–!” He tried his best to pull over quickly, and Y/N hopped from of the backseat before he could come to a full stop. She hurried to the nearest bush at the edge of the streetlight and immediately started to heave, coughing up her night’s inventory of alcohol.

Samuel followed, catching her hair just in the nick of time. He pulled it away from her face, rubbing a palm against her hunched back patiently.

When she was finally done, he helped her up by the crook of her elbow and kept a hand at the dip of her waist to steady her. “You good?”

She nodded, blinking her dark eyes. “Oh man. Do I regret,” she groaned.

Samuel exhaled heavily, a fuddled wave of aggravation and worry washing over him. Without thinking, he said disdainfully, “do you now?”

She gave him a look; he couldn’t tell if it was confusion or annoyance.

“Uh, what’s that supposed to mean?”

Sam was taken aback by the tone of her voice; was she angry? He raked a hand through his hair. “You know you can’t hold your drinks, but you go and knock back like, fifty shots.”

Wrong move. Her eyebrows pulled even closer, and she pushed out of his arms. “It’s a party, Sam. I can do whatever I want.”

He knew that arguing back was just going to make her even more irritated, but he knew she was wrong– or he thought he knew she was wrong– and that was starting to make him mad too. “You’re never like this. Did Rafe make you do them or somethin’?”

“No! Rafe’s not like that. He’s my boyfriend.”

“A pretty shit one.”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothin’. Forget it.”

She shifted from one leg to the other impatiently. “No, Sam. I hate it when you do that. Just say it.” she pressed angrily.

There was a thin line between the two of them, and he was very close to crossing it. He contemplated whether or not he wanted to. “You’re being blindsided, Y/N.” He warned.

She scoffed, dismissing him. “There you go again.”

Suddenly, he said, “Then tell me why he just left you in the kitchen when the cops came, huh?”

He had struck a nerve. Y/N gave a short huff of realization and her shoulders tensed harshly. She narrowed her eyes at him. “You don’t know that.”

He waved a hand frantically in the air and let out a humorless laugh. “Seriously? Y/N, I saw him! That prick cares about nobody but himself.”

Something simmered behind her eyes, and instantly, Samuel regretted his words.

Shit, shit--

She raised a shaky finger at him. “Don’t.”

She was hurt now and he couldn’t put his emotions into words in fear of giving himself away. It was as if every time he tried, it only escalated into something offensive. It frustrated and angered him even further.

He closed his eyes and sighed, thinking of how to diffuse his mess. “I’m just… worried about you.”

She went quiet for a bit, and it troubled him.

“Well, I’m fine. I’m just trying to have fun, okay?”

He looked away from her, over her shoulder. He hadn’t noticed earlier, but he had actually pulled over near his workplace: the small boat dock at the edge of town. They stood at the larger part of the harbor where the metal railing separated the city from the sea.

Crystal’s words hissed in his ear. You need to stop lying to yourself, Sam.

Y/N said nothing further, walking a little ways from him along the wooden floorboards of the dock. On she went, a pretty figure framed in starlight against the dark ocean.

It doesn’t help anybody.

His feelings were getting out of hand and he was running out of time… but he was afraid. He didn’t want to lose what he had with her already; what more did he want? Y/N was there whenever he needed her, to catch him when he was on the brink of danger, to smile and to laugh at his less-than-funny jokes. This should be enough, he told himself. Stop being greedy.

But Samuel Drake… he couldn’t help that he wanted more than what he had. That was just in his nature; “satisfaction” was a loose term in his range of vocabulary.

He had to let her know. Somehow.

He sucked in his breath. “Did you do it on purpose?”

She stopped walking and turned around, standing about a meter or two away with her head tilted slightly. “Do what on purpose?”

Uh, definitely not how he wanted to start. Oh well. It was too late now.

He swallowed his pride and went for it. “That night, at the window. You know what I’m talking about.”

She didn’t say anything. She couldn’t say anything. What was there to say?

He didn’t press her. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted to tell her; he was terrible with words. They just never came out the way he felt in his heart. He didn’t know where he was going with this… maybe he just wanted hear her say that she knew and that it wouldn’t work out and then they could move on with their lives. Just like that. Simple.

He was about to tell her to forget it, to pretend like it never happened, but then he saw her nod once, curtly, hiding secretly behind her wind-tossed mane.

He was awestruck.

She rocked on the heels of her feet. “It kinda just… happened. I saw you, and I just…” she trailed off, biting a nail as she avoided his stare. The distance between them felt foreign, vast.

Samuel cleared his throat. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I mean, I know it was wrong.” She gave him a puzzled look, and then he caught himself. “Wait, no– like, what I did was wrong. Not you,” he stuttered, unable to stop the words from tumbling out. He felt his face burning.

She giggled at this, brushing back the wisps of hair from her forehead.

Samuel grimaced, but her smile was contagious. “Y’know, I can just pretend like I didn’t see anything.”

She looked at him, and again, he couldn’t read her expression. She looked perplexed, unsure… contemplative?

She took a step forward.

“You don’t… you don’t have to.”

-

Damn him, that Samuel Drake. He knew how to press your buttons and piss you off, even if he didn’t mean to. But this… this caught you off-guard. He was being brash, impulsive-- curious. He had asked you about that night two weeks ago, openly, giving you no space to dodge and flee.

What would happen if you told the truth?

“You don’t… you don’t have to.” You murmur, releasing your words cautiously into the air.

Did he hear you? Did you say it loud enough, or did it get lost in the faint crashing of waves underneath you two?

No– he definitely heard you. You watch his eyes widen and his head jerk back in surprise. Was he appalled? Uncomfortable?

Oh well. Too late now.

You suck in your breath. “I mean, if you don’t want to. Do you… do you want to forget?”

Ugh okay. That came out really weird. You’re about to tell him to forget it, nevermind, you meant to say something else–

His voice is barely a whisper. “Are you kidding?”

You frown. “No.”

You watch Samuel Drake, the confident and boisterous and handsome Samuel Drake, as he presses his hand against his forehead and ducks his gaze away from yours.

“I haven’t been able to get you outta my head for the past two weeks.”

…what?

Oh no, he was repulsed. You stammer, “I-I… jeez, I didn’t know. I’m sorry, I didn’t know it made you feel that uncomfortable–”

“What? No, no– that’s not what I meant,” he drops his hand and takes a step towards you.

Then what…

“Listen. Y/N.”

You watch as he grabs a fistful of his dark hair– you know what that means. He’s at a loss for words; he wants to say something badly, but he just doesn’t know how.

So you wait, focusing on the rhythmic thumping in your chest. You don’t push him; you know Sam Drake and his habits and his tendencies. You know that he’s not the serious one in your guys’ dynamic. This is different for him– this is difficult for him– and so you let him work it out at his own pace.

You notice the precise moment when he does. His eyes flick up, realigning with yours, and then his throat dips as he swallows hard.

“I… I might have a thing for you. Kinda.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

You pause briefly to consider your words.

“That’s funny. Because me too.”

“…Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

A little sound of disbelief escapes your lips. He catches it, and returns it to you as a louder chuckle. You both are dumbstruck, jittery, and at a loss as to what to do or say. This is actually happening.

“Wait, wait-- what about Rafe?” He suddenly asks, pointing a finger at you.

You cross your arms. “That’s a little hypocritical, don’t you think?”

“What do you mean?”

“Crystal?”

He drops his hand. “Okay.”

And then he’s laughing. And you start laughing at his laughing, because his laugh is just that infectious. He reaches out to you with outstretched hands and you walk over dizzily, fitting snug right between his arms. He’s warm and you can hear his heart beating powerfully underneath his gray Henley. His chin rests on the top of your head, and you know, deep inside of your heart, that this is where you belong.

-

Samuel told her.

It wasn’t super dramatic or sweet and a part of him regretted telling her so plainly, but he did it.

And the best part was, she felt the same way.

He couldn’t believe it. It took him years to finally tell her, and now he regretted not doing it sooner. He wanted to explode; he had never felt so raw and alive. It was as if a burden heavy as lead lifted from his shoulders and was replaced by a flitting, floating, airy happiness that sent him up and up and up.

“Since when though?” He asked the top of her head.

She tilted her chin up, resting it against his collarbone to look at him. A cheeky grin danced on her lips. “Uhh, yesterday.”

“Very funny.”

“You’re asking a lot of questions.”

“Please tell me?” He gave her that look, the one where he gazed at her broodingly through his eyelashes and up-turned eyebrows. He used it often to combat her witty and much too smart quips.

It worked on her like a charm and she said, “Eighth grade.”

“Don’t lie to me,” he warned her.

She glowered. “I’m being serious!” She poked a finger at his side, and he jerked into her, causing her to give him a winning smirk. “And you?”

“Don’t remember,” he mumbled, distracted by how soft her hair was against his neck.

“Are you sure? Like, really sure?” She mumbled back.

He snapped a finger, feigning recollection. “Sophomore year. When you almost fell outta your window climbing into mine. You were tryin’ to hide from your mom when she found your report card you threw behind that old bookshelf.”

“Wow, okay. Can you be a little more specific?”

He grinned at this. “You knocked over my entire Indiana Jones figure collection climbin’ in and that’s how I knew you were the one.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“I know.”

She stuck her tongue out at him before burying her face in his chest. She sighed a long, blissful sigh, and Samuel knew exactly what she felt in that very moment.

“You know, I’m gonna miss you in college.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re supposed to say ‘me too’, Sam.”

“Me too, Sam.”

She poked another finger at his side, and he scowled, squeezing her cheeks between his free thumb and forefinger like he did whenever she was playing around too much. “Hey watch it, neighbor, that hurts.”

“Sorry, neighbor.”

Then, gradually, she got on her tip-toes and looked right at him, their noses touching, and suddenly, he was all too aware of her. Something in her eyes changed; they were all at once curious and unfocused. He soon realized that she wasn’t looking at him anymore– she was looking at his bottom lip. He watched as she bit her own.

They stayed like that for some time, until it became unbearable. Neither of them wanted to make the first move… it was exhilarating just as it was scary.

“Do something Samuel Drake,” she whispered to him.

Her words were like an activation code; a euphoric green “GO” sign lit up his brain upstairs. So then, slowly, he brought his lips to hers, his fingertips tenderly resting just against her jaw. It lasted only for a fleeting second. Her eyelashes fluttered like the wings of a butterfly, and Samuel wished that he could capture the moment and keep it safe in a glass bottle for him to relive again and again.

No other person made him this gushy and weak in the knees. She was a magician of sorts and he was her favorite trick. He would do anything for the girl standing here in front of him, and now, he could do it confidently.

“Can you do that again?” She smiled against his lips.

“Yeah, I’ll do that again.”

And Samuel kissed her once more under the moon’s watch and the ocean’s breath, and nothing else in the world mattered more. They both knew that in that moment, there was no other person they would’ve rather been with, and this was more precious than they could’ve ever imagined. He no longer felt afraid knowing that she was there for him to call his own, and she no longer felt overshadowed by the boy who had always thought she was unattainable.

It was a match made by the stars, and they watched protectively overhead, safeguarding the two under the youthful evening blanket.