Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
With the 100 season 3 happening I needed more AUs in my life. Ark!Thea teaching Grounder!Skip about the old days with some books she had. I don’t know man. I blame Jamie with our freaking out about the 100.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
“I don’t even know what the fuck pin-day is,” he defended himself when twelve different people pointed out that he definitely wasn’t in pin-attire and only in sweats for the soccer team and not even his own frat’s letters. He could get kicked out, he knows a few people who would be glad to give him the boot, but they won’t dare. He’s a Legacy, bitch.
“They didn’t explain it to you during Rush?”
“Dude, how in the fuck do you not know what pin-day is?”
“Eren, man, please tell me you’re kidding.”
He took a minute to remember all the similarities of the people complaining about his outfit--sweats and the wrong letters, bedhead, and alcohol on his breath because he got so drunk on Irish Whiskey, he barely woke up to catch his third class of the day. Ergo, no time to brush his teeth, much less care what fucking day is was.
Ties, suits, clean hair, shaved faces--oh. Pin-day, as in wear your Greek lettered pin on a suit. Pin-day, every Thursday for Sigma Chi, which he just nodded through when his brothers explained the rules. He was already eight shots in by that time, high as kite too because what was self-control? And they were playing Cards Against Humanity in the basement, loser took double shots. Yeah, he really couldn’t remember much during Rush. Just a very stark sense of embarrassment and the sound of a toilet seat around his ears.
“Oh. Right.” Eren said smoothly, laughing and spreading out his hands to placate these ridiculous frat-fucks. He didn’t care, only joining to get the letters, which automatically got you noticed on campus by both sexes. “Sorry, gentlemen. I had a paper for Jackson due today.”
There are noises of pity and sympathy, maybe a few smacks on the ass as they disperse for lunch in the Union.
Except there’s a person who hasn’t left, just sitting on the brick wall separating the main library from the Union. He’s not in pin-attire obviously, wearing faded jeans, a large university sweatshirt and a beanie. He’s a fucking hipster, only with amused eyes and no visible tattoos. The back of his neck is shaved, but that’s about as hipster as it gets. His shoes are probably twenty-years old--those velcro Adidas sandals that Eren’s father wore with socks (he shudders at the early memories). But shit, atrocious sandals or not, the dude hanging on the wall is a sight for sore eyes.
And Eren’s eyes are literally sore--slept in his contacts because he was too drunk to function beyond falling face-first into his dorm bed after finally calling it a night. And he really did have a Jackson paper due… just decided he’d email the wrong file and pretend he doesn’t see the email until later, when his hangover is out of his system.
Time to air the dog.
Eren looked at the stranger for a minute, debating whether or not to throw out a pick up line, but then another person walked by complaining about his not-so pin-attire, so he rolled his eyes and sped-walked to his dorm.
-
Two hours later, he’s sitting in his last class: Introduction to the Arts 103.
This year, he has a professor he doesn’t know as registering was a bitch and everyone wants an easy art class. But she looks kind enough, if a bit like she doesn’t ever sleep--big, red eyes and purple underneath her eyes.
When Eren ran into the classroom late and almost toppling over four easels, she’d simply laughed and shakily pointed to the last easel open. Good, he didn’t get another professor who hated frat boys on principle (English last semester, oh god, fuck that stupid Dr. Drake, he got a 30 on his English ACT score).
“Get out your sketchbooks and place them in the basket,” she told them, pushing up her glasses and yawning. “And please, put your name in them this time. The assignment was for eighteen different studies, I hope you managed your time well in between Spring Break.”
Oh. Right.
Eren went through his sketchbook and counted thirteen, even though one was really a pizza stain with greasy fingerprints when he tried to wipe it off after blowing up his cousin in Battlefront. And oh, that might be a cum stain from that night when he discovered gay porn on accident.
He was a bit new to the whole game, even though he knew he liked boys too--just didn’t ever seem to cross his mind that gay porn would be a thing. Whomp, whomp, it definitely was and man that was fun night.
“Uh, Dr. Hange,” Eren said as she stared, waiting for him to finish up staring at the stains in his pages. “I grabbed the wrong sketchbook. Could I get it to you tomorrow during your office hours?”
It wasn’t the wrong one, but he’d be damned if he made her touch the thing. He may be a little slow, but he wasn’t stupid.
“Yeah, sure,” she breezed past him, commenting on the cum stain with a, “oh that’s nice.”
He blazed bright red when the guy next to him choked and snorted his Gatorade out of his nose. Seemed he knew exactly what it was too--maybe a lot of modern art was just jizz on a canvas?
No wonder museums said do not touch.
“Eren, pay attention,” Dr. Hange laughed when she snapped her fingers in front of his face. “We have a guest and he needs to introduce himself.”
“Oh, cool, sorry man.” Eren apologized to the same guy who’d been on the wall earlier. He only shrugged in response.
“I’m Levi, asked to stop by to model a couple of times by random people. I recognize a few of you,” he said, voice a bit annoyed and was that anxiety Eren heard? “Seriously, you art majors are weird.”
“What are you?” Eren asked, defending his major. Art was fun, shut the fuck up.
“Engineering,” Levi responded after a deep sigh. Eren supposed he was the type to have poetry tattooed on his ribs or maybe even a skull on his knuckles. Definitely black ink, probably has a piercing somewhere too.
“Well, we’re grateful,” Dr. Hange cut in before Eren could ask if his nipples were pierced. She seemed to guess his question and mouthed at him to sit down already, Jesus H Christ. “I can see why you’ve been asked so much.”
Levi looked severely uncomfortable at the compliment, but shrugged after a moment, hopping onto the pedestal in the middle of the room.
“Let’s start with a profile,” Dr. Hange continued. She looked apologetic. “ Ten minutes for this one, five for the others. I want a lot out of this. You’ve all become lazy and fat over Spring Break. Except you Eren,” she turned to him. “You just got incredibly brown.”
-
Eight minutes in and Levi wanted to bash his head in.
He was surrounded by thirty art majors who worshipped his jawline and that Eren brownie who was probably the type to pluck his eyebrows and hug his friends, always ending it with a, “haha, no homo though, bro.”
Just his type, unfortunately.
After they finished with the initial profile (just a side shot of his head, emphasizing his jaw because apparently that was all people noticed), someone shyly asked for him to try ‘the Thinker pose’. He felt ridiculous, hunching over and placing his chin on a fist, looking like that stupid, god-like statue.
Five minutes and he was lying on his back, head tilted.
Another and he was resting his forehead on the wall, looking down dramatically at his knees. Of course, his jaw was the main focus again.
“Oh my god, seriously,” that brownie said finally, looking annoyed. “Can we just get this over with? Yes, his jaw could probably cut a diamond, and yes, his neck is very nice, we get it. Could we try maybe not sexualizing him and just drawing? Sound cool, guys?”
“Do you have a pose in mind?” Dr. Hange asked from behind a book, popping bubble gum.
“Yeah,” Eren looked absolutely like he was lying. Was that panic? Levi wanted to laugh, but also fuck the frat boy ten ways to Sunday. “Uh, lie down on your side and tuck your head in? Cross your ankles? Yeah, just like that.”
Levi couldn’t see anything, which meant his neck and jaw were hidden and whoa, maybe he could snatch a nap? Hell fucking yes.
He woke up five minutes later to Eren asking for another position.
Then another art major apologizing and asking permission to touch him into the way she would like him sitting. Through his thick sweatshirt, it was fine. But his beautiful brownie sat in his seat, drawing with his tongue sticking out, bushy eyebrows furrowed so deep, he had a unibrow.
Another three poses and Dr. Hange called a halt, thanking Levi for his time, and asking in turn for everyone to do the same.
Eren was watching his bare hip, which had been flashed in the last pose, before he stood and introduced himself.
“Hey, I’m Eren,” he smiled, big and bright. Levi shook his hand and avoided the invitation for one of those frat-boy hand shakes slash back slaps.
“Yeah,” he didn’t know what to really say back, as he’d already been introduced and knew Eren’s name from when the professor told him to come back to Earth. “You look hungover,” was what came out of his mouth after a moment of awkward silence.
Eren snorted and then snapped his head back in laughter.
Oh, and he thought Levi had a nice neck? Damn, son.
“I am,” he eventually said, choking around his snorts. “Very hungover. I feel like I might puke, but that’s usually normal.”
“How is your liver still functioning?”
“I don’t know,” he sounded genuinely confused. “I had three LIT’s last night.”
“Fucking hell,” Levi let out a bark of amusement. “And you managed to dress yourself?”
“I know it’s fucking pin-day, okay, you’re like the twentieth person to remind me,” he put a hand on his temple, blinking slowly.
“What the fuck is pin-day?”
-
Next week, it was the same.
“Eren, for fuck’s sake man, I know you’re a Legacy, but you forgot again?”
“Dude, pin-day is every Thursday,” he heard again and again and fucking again.
“Please don’t tell me I just saw a travel nurse put away an IV and fluids.”
“Wait, why’re you wearing a swim team jacket? Aren’t you on the soccer team?”
“Yeah, I thought your last name was Jaeger, not Ackerman.”
