#Binder Clips & Pins

[dreamlogic]

musing in the tags about the view two years out from my hysterectomy and the shifting nature of neuropathy. i asked my PT for recommendations/resources pertaining to pain science and that's been a very helpful lenses to have. i'm still not back to normal, will never be unmarked by this experience or return to my pre-op self, but my baseline has been gradually increasing over the last few months, and it feels good to look back on the last two years and say "i have no idea how i managed to function while living with that, but i did!"

[batshikns]

i should really be asleep but ouuugghh minecraft :(

[heavyedit]

yesterday at work i clipped a bunch of binder clips to the brim of my hat bc i needed easy access to binder clips and i genuinely was getting compliments on it all night. i don’t ever want to hear anyone say achieving a punk look is too hard or expensive ever again

[technoxenoholic]

anyway! i have plans for some really fucking cool stretch-velvet dresses that are going to look fantastic on me and be SO awesome

"hey blue, isn't that going to be a pain to sew?" no <3

i'd tell y'all about them but i don't want to spill the beans too far ahead of making them in case somebody else gets to the idea before i do whoops. at current time of posting i know of no one else who has done the specific things i am thinking of and i am deliberately not looking it up to check my assumptions because i want to do this as 100% my own thing with as little outside influence as possible

[kusumasposts]

Enjoy the best products deals on halfpe.com

[cereovo]

DIY notebook/junk journal tutorial for people on a budget

I found myself watching a lot of bookbinding videos recently & had the realization: I could probably do that at home, for free. And I was right. So before an influencer convinces you to drop 50 dollars on a book press and a fancy bonefolder, here's how:

STEP 0: MATERIALS

Cardstock - This can be any slightly thicker paper. I've been using postcards and blank greeting cards, because they're already around the size I want, but you can even use the cardboard from a cereal box if you want something sturdier.

Scissors/Xacto knife - You need at least the scissors, but the Xacto knife makes things a lot easier. If you have an actual paper cutter, use that instead.

Glue - your choice, I've been using modpodge but you can use a glue stick, etc instead.

Sturdy tape - duct tape, electrical tape, masking tape, etc. It needs to hold up to wear and tear; washi/scotch tape will not work.

Binder or Paper clips - binder clips are my preference but large paper clips work in a pinch

Ruler(s) - If you have them, I recommend using two rulers: one metal (if you're cutting paper with an xacto knife), one plastic or wood (this will be your bonefolder).

Pen or pencil

Paper scraps - These will be the pages of your notebook. You want them to be the same size or bigger than your covers. You can use literally anything; I've been using the last blank pages of old planners and notebooks, end pages of old books, and various scraps that would otherwise be thrown away.

Safety pin - Awl substitute

Needle and thread

ADDITIONALLY you should have a) a surface to glue on and b) a surface to cut on. A piece of scrap cardboard works well for both.

--

STEP 1: DECORATING THE COVER

Take the cardstock you want to use for your cover, cut it to size if you need to, and fold it in half, using the side of your wooden/plastic ruler to flatten the crease. If you want to decorate it, take a magazine clipping or paper scrap of your choice and glue it on one side ( shown below). Avoid gluing anything onto the crease.

Flip it over and trim the sides down. Cut off the corners, then glue and fold the sides over. Use the ruler on anything you need to crease.

Flip back over and repeat for the other side! Make sure to leave a gap at the 'spine'.

STEP 2: CREATING A SIGNATURE

A "signature" is a stack of folded papers, aka, your notebook's pages. Take the papers you wish to use, fold each of them in half, and nest them together. I've been using 10 sheets of paper for mine, which will become 40 pages total. It might be harder to fit more than this into a small-sized notebook. Also, I try to arrange the sheets so that the CLEAN EDGES line up at the BOTTOM of the stack, with the rough edges at the top. This way you'll only have to trim 2 sides instead of 3.

Line your cover up with the signature's bottom edge, making sure everything inside is aligned neatly. Then slap on a binder clip and trim off some of the excess material with scissors, if needed.

Use a ruler to mark where the edge of the cover is, then remove the cover to avoid damaging it (but keep the binder clip). Hold the ruler firmly in place slightly to the left of the line you just made. Carefully make repeated, even strokes with your xacto knife along the side of the ruler to cut straight through the layers of paper. Repeat with the top of the signature. A metal ruler is recommended for this step because a sharp xacto knife WILL CUT THROUGH PLASTIC AND WOODEN RULERS. I learned this the hard way, but if you're careful it should be fine. If you have access to an actual paper cutter, skip this step and use that instead!! it's way faster and safer!!

The finished signatures should be the same size as your cover now.

STEP 3: PUTTING IT TOGETHER

Stick your signature into the cover, align everything, then open to the center page. Clip the pages to the cover at the top or bottom, one on each side, in this 'open' position. Make a few marks along the center crease with even spacing.

Awl time. Using your marks as a guide, CAREFULLY push your safety pin through your signature and out through notebook's spine. You might want to use a thumbtack to make things easier on your fingers.

The next step is to sew the sheets together through the holes you made. Unfortunately this is not a sewing tutorial, so if you don't know how to thread a needle you might want to pause here and look that up. I'm using a simple saddle stitch, keeping the knots on the outside. There are many ways to do the actual book binding, including just stapling it, but this is how I do it.

You can remove the binder clips at this point. The only thing left to do is reinforce the spine. Trim the thread and fold your Sturdy Tape of choice over the spine, leaving some excess at both ends. The goal here is mainly to cover up the loose thread. Split the excess along the dotted lines shown below...

...Then stick it down on the insides of the front and back cover.

And you're done!!!!!

Enjoy your cool new handmade notebook!

[megalony]

Baby-Trapped - Part 4

Here is the latest part of my Evan Buckley series, thank you all for the lovely feedback and ideas. I hope you will all like this part.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella

Series Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) distances herself from Evan when the people at her college believe he shouldn't be with someone younger and inexperienced like her. But things change when she falls pregnant.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Supressing a groan, (Y/n) tiredly opened her eyes, squinting at the light seeping into the room through the open curtains.

She took a deep breath, moving a hand to her temple to wipe away the sheen of sweat gathering on her brow. It took more energy than (Y/n) thought possible to twist herself onto her side and look across to the side table. Her vision blurred and she took a deep breath, squinting to try and read the numbers on the alarm clock.

It was almost dinner time.

"Oh God,"

A string of 'Come on' and 'Get up, get up' tumbled past her lips as she turned to lay on her back again and pressed her palms down against the mattress. She had to get out of bed. She shouldn't have laid in this late. Why did Evan get up without her? Why didn't he wake her when he got up?

Class started at two and it was a double class today, (Y/n) had to get up and get ready. She had to get something to eat and make her stomach settle down before she went to class.

Stting up proved to be another challenge. (Y/n) barely lifted her head before the room started to spin. She held her breath deep in her lungs and closed her eyes, sitting forward while her fingers scrunched up in the bedsheet to try and ground herself.

"How you feeling baby?" Evan headed up the stairs and crossed the room towards the bed, although when his eyes landed on (Y/n) he found the answer to his question straight away.

She didn't look much better.

Evan knew she wasn't well when he picked her up from class yesterday. She barely had the energy to get out the jeep, let alone get upstairs and as soon as they got inside, she fell asleep on the sofa. He knew her routine after class. She would tidy and re-write some of her notes and clip them in her binder and do a few revision cards. But not yesterday.

He woke her up to have something to eat, which (Y/n) ended up throwing up last night. And Evan got up with her at two in the morning when she felt sick and almost fell down the stairs to get to the bathroom.

Evan was sure she was coming down with something. He didn't believe it was morning sickness making her feel this bad when it never hit her as much as this before.

"Groggy… why didn't you wake me?" (Y/n) let her head tilt back like her neck had broken and she looked up at Evan through her lashes, barely able to focus on him as he moved closer. She watched, somewhat in a daze as Evan climbed onto the bed until he was hovering over her legs. He had his knees pinning into each of her thighs and he sank back on his heels, effectively sitting on her lap.

"Because you needed to sleep."

She leaned into his touch as he kissed her temple but her chest seized up and she gasped when Evan's hands found her shoulders and he easily overpowered her. He pushed until she fell back into the pillows and her eyes rolled to try and regain focus as the room spun around her.

"Evan…" She whined and moved her hands to clutch his forearms while he planted his hands down on the pillow either side of her head.

Her fingers trailed up his arms and over the short cuffed sleeves of his shirt, looping her fingers together behind his neck when he rearranged himself to lay down on top of her. He kept his weight balanced between his knees and his elbows which he pinned down into the bed either side of (Y/n)'s arms so his hands could cup the sides of her neck.

Her tired lips curved into a grin when Evan leaned down and stole a kiss. She could feel his teeth nipping at her lower lip and shivers coursed through her nerves when he pushed down on her just a little more. Pinning her into the mattress with his abdomen touching her bump that he was always so fascinated with recently.

"You don't look well, go back to sleep baby. Get some more rest." Evan spoke quietly in between kisses while his thumb brushed across (Y/n)'s jaw and he pulled her lower lip between his lips.

"I have to get up babe, I have class this afternoon-"

"No, baby you don't."

(Y/n) arched a brow and scratched her nails into the back of his neck while she huffed.

"Have I slept through the whole day or something?" Part of her actually worried Evan was going to say she had slept for over twenty four hours and had, in fact, missed class.

Her eyes followed Evan as he leaned his weight on his left arm and moved his right hand up across her neck. He kissed her lips again, slower, softer this time, before he pressed the back of his hand against her forehead and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

"No. I told Maddie you're not going in today, you've been sick and you're burning up, you need to stay home." He could feel the heat radiating off of her already and he knew she was only wearing his lounge shirt and her underwear.

It wasn't as if she was bundled up in layers or sweating beneath a thick duvet. She had been sick during the night and she still didn't look well or rested. Evan could see she had a headache, it was clear in the way that (Y/n) could barely keep her eyes focused on him and how she was wincing every now and then. There was no way she could go to class when she wasn't well, she needed to stay here and rest.

Evan was going on shift in half an hour but he had already rung Maddie this morning since she had said she would drop (Y/n) off at college and pick her up later. He told his sister not to bother. He couldn't see (Y/n) getting up and making it through a double class when she looked and felt this rough.

"Babe I can't miss class, we have a practical exam next week."

(Y/n) could feel tears pooling in her eyes even though she didn't want to cry or feel that upset.

Missing class wasn't an option. Not when she was getting closer and closer to finals.

There was only two months left of classes, then (Y/n) could sit the last of her written exams, pray that she passed and be done with college. If she missed class now and failed the practical next week, it would mark her grade down or push her back. (Y/n) couldn't afford to be pushed back because she needed to graduate this year. She had to graduate before she had the baby.

"You've been to almost every class this year, missing one to recover won't make any difference. You could still study here if you feel up to it. You're twenty-two weeks pregnant and you're sick, they'll understand."

Since they'd been together, Evan had only known (Y/n) to miss class once when she was in hospital. Once when she had a fever and he had to physically stop her from crawling out the door to try and get to class. And then almost two months ago when the girls in her class found out she was pregnant. That was it. She had made it to every other class and she was a star student.

Her grades weren't low or risky, she studied almost every day and she was smart. Missing class today and possibly tomorrow to recover from sickness wasn't going to make her fail.

It would do her good to rest and go back to class next week with a clear head. Going today would only prove to make her feel worse and Evan doubted she would be able to take much information in or concentrate much today, not when she looked drowsy and still felt sick.

Her teacher would understand.

"No, I have to go. We'll be fine." (Y/n) pulled Evan down by the scruff of his neck and took it upon herself to kiss him, but she could feel his resolve holding tight. He wasn't going to give in.

He stayed on top of her like a fallen building, preventing her from moving in any direction. And they both knew (Y/n) didn't have the energy or the power to move him when she tried to push up and failed miserably.

"Baby, do I have to call Bobby and switch my shift? If you're gonna try and go to class I'll change shifts and stay home with you."

Pursing her lips, (Y/n) looked away but she huffed when Evan held her chin and tilted her head until she let her eyes lock onto him again. If she was going to try and get up and move about or try and prove she could go to class, Evan would stay home. He knew Bobby would have no trouble switching his shift around and giving him the afternoon off.

He would stay home if he had to or if (Y/n) wanted him to. If she started being sick again Evan was already committed to staying home to make sure she was okay.

"Don't call Bobby," She murmured softly, looking up at Evan through hooded lashes which just made him lean down and attach his lips hungrily to hers.

"So both my girls will stay home and rest?"

(Y/n) wordlessly nodded, feeling her stomach pool with adrenaline when Evan reached his hand down to slip beneath her shirt and cup her stomach.

She didn't want to worry him. It would be easier to agree and stay home than it would to try and fight Evan and prove she was alright when they both knew she wasn't. Missing class didn't feel right though. It felt like (Y/n) was cheating, like she was having a sick day when she didn't really need one. As if she and Evan were going out drinking and dancing the afternoon away.

Staying home felt wrong when she knew she had somewhere to be. Was (Y/n) really ill enough to miss class?

Did the other girls at college who were pregnant miss class too if they felt under the weather? Was (Y/n) just overreacting? Did she look worse than she felt? Surely she could make it through class after all the sleep she had gotten last night and into the morning? It wouldn't be for long and if wasn't like they were doing practical assessments today or going out on work placements anymore.

Her mind stopped overreacting and started to short circuit when she felt Evan's palm press down on her stomach and the tip of his nose nudged hers as he kissed her.

"If you need anything, just call me or Maddie." He spoke quietly against her lips and (Y/n) found herself nodding along even though she knew she wouldn't call. She would be fine. She wasn't going to bother Evan when he was at work or call Maddie and disrrupt her day; it was bad enough (Y/n) thought she would be ruining Maddie's afternoon earlier by getting a lift to and from college.

Staying home and playing things safe might be the better option, but that didn't make it feel right.

***

Glancing her eyes around the living room, (Y/n) checked the coffee table and reached out for her notebook. Once it was stuffed into her bag, she slipped her bag high on her shoulder and straightened up, taking a moment to breathe deeply and clear the fog from her mind.

It was only an afternoon class.

She was going to be fine.

She had gotten up and had some lunch with Evan before he left for his shift and having a drink and a sandwich had perked (Y/n) up immensely. Her head didn't feel as cloudy, her stomach had settled down and she had kept everything down.

She even had enough energy to go and get dressed out of her slacks.

Staring at the clock had irritated, panicked and overworried (Y/n) until she gave in to the nagging thoughts in the back of her head. She didn't want to miss class. The thought of being kept behind or failing that exam next week made her cry. (Y/n) needed to pass, she had to. She couldn't face being kept back and hearing what Sandra and Carla would say if they found out.

(Y/n) knew if she missed this class, it would spur her and make her desperate to stay home and not attend the rest of her classes. The girls were making her paranoid enough to want to stay home and if she stayed home today, she wouldn't want to keep going in future.

She had to go. She had to keep her routine.

Keeping a tight grip on her bag, (Y/n) headed out the living room, stuffing her phone into her back pocket as she moved to the hall and grabbed her keys.

Her eyes did a quick sweep up and down her frame before she walked out the door, not giving herself chance to go back and change.

It had been a while since (Y/n) had walked to college. She forgot just how long the walk was until she finally got near campus. She had left the apartment extra early to give herself enough time to get there. The further (Y/n) walked, the more her knees started to shake and the more her legs felt gloopy like they were made of jelly that was starting to come apart.

She could feel herself sweating by the time she was on campus and she thanked God she hadn't worn a jacket. Her temperature was still a bit higher than normal so (Y/n) knew walking down the stairs in the apartment block was going to make her flushed, let alone walking down here.

But she couldn't risk calling Maddie and saying she felt well enough to go to college. Maddie would tell her to stay home and if (Y/n) went, she knew Maddie would tell Evan.

It was easier to do this alone and go to class without either of them worrying. (Y/n) could go to class, go back home and rest and just pretend Tina had given her all the notes from today's classes. Then everyone would be happy.

"Hey."

(Y/n) managed a smile and came to a stop, waiting for Tina to walk over to her. As soon as she was close enough, Tina reached out and looped their arms together.

Her eyes dragged up and down (Y/n)'s frame, something akin to happiness with a hint of confusion in her eyes when she looked over her.

"You okay… you look a bit under the weather?" Tina narrowed her dark eyes and quirked her lips up at one side. She could fee the sweat glistening on (Y/n)'s forehead in the afternoon sun and she was taking shallow breaths like she had just finished a marathon.

"I felt sick last night, but I'm okay."

"You still seem queasy to me, but okay." The look in her eyes said she wasn't so sure she believed (Y/n), but she wouldn't push the subject. She motioned her hand towards the doors but (Y/n) shook her head.

"I just walked here, let me catch my breath."

Tilting her head back, (Y/n) willed away the throbbing headache behind her eyes while she rested her left hand on her hip and squeezed tightly to try and ground herself. She could feel the baby give a little wriggle and a kick as if acknowledging that the walk combined with the lack of energy and the sickness had been a bit overpowering for them both.

"I thought Buck drops you off, is he at work?" When (Y/n) nodded, Tina hummed and linked their arms together a little tighter so they were leaning on each other.

(Y/n) gave Tina's arm a squeeze when she felt ready enough to make the treck down to the classroom. The only good thing about a double lesson was the fact that they could sit down and they would only have to move about for a leg stretch or to grab some work sheets. (Y/n) could sit and try to recover. She would be taking notes in class and doing the same as if she were at home, just not in the comfort of her own home or on her sofa.

She did her best to smile as they started to walk; she didn't want to worry Tina like she had worried Evan last night.

"So, thought of any names yet for our new girlie?"

"Maybe."

(Y/n) let her eyes trail down to her stomach and she looked over her outfit choice. She had been uneasy about whether to go to class or not and when she finally decided she felt compulsary to go, she got dressed in haste.

It was finally time to start wearing maternity leggings now that she couldn't zip up her jeans and her usual leggings felt very itchy and tight around the waistline. These ones were comfier than (Y/n) imagined and it almost felt like wearing a jumpsuit with how high up she could pull them. The black leggings were paired with a thin white top with tiny cherries embroidered across.

The top only just pulled down over her stomach and it showed off her bump properly for the first time. Before now, (Y/n) had been wearing Evan's clothes or jumpers or baggy dresses so no one in class would look or whisper.

She was tired of feeling so self-conscious about what to wear. Why should she care anymore?

Evan and Maddie had both told her she looked great and she had no reason to be uneasy or nervous. And going to the station four days ago had only perked up (Y/n)'s mood when Hen and Bobby were so lovely to say how well and how lovely she looked. And Chimney had said she looked great and how happy he was to become an uncle for the first time.

If they all thought (Y/n) looked great, she had no reason to hide her body or be afraid of what everyone was going to think. The girls in her class didn't matter. The only people whose opinions mattered were all happy and positive and that was what (Y/n) needed.

"Come on then, spill." Tina leaned her head on (Y/n)'s shoulder as they walked inside and made a slow walk towards class.

"Nope, you'll just have to wait."

She took a deep breath and blinked a few times to clear her vision as they turned the corridor and headed up to their classroom.

Evan and (Y/n) had been throwing names back and forth since last week and there was one that stuck well with both of them. They seemed to be silently agreed that it was the name for their girl. But they weren't telling anyone. It was going to be a surprise, if Evan could keep it a secret for that long.

Most of the class were already inside and sat in their usual seats when the two of them walked inside. (Y/n) realised it must have taken her a bit longer than she thought to walk here and she was suddenly glad she had left the apartment early.

They weaved round the edge of the class and moved across to their usual seats in the far right corner of the classroom.

That was where (Y/n) and Tina had always sat so they were both out the way and didn't have to mix with others or be social if they didn't want to. And (Y/n) couldn't brave sitting anywhere else in class or being any closer to the front. At least this way, if people wanted to stare, they had to turn around and make it obvious they were looking so no one's gaze lingered on her too long anymore.

It felt just like she was a teenager back in school having a baby at fifteen rather than being in her twenties, nearing the end of college to get a degree.

(Y/n) could feel all her energy dwindling down when she sat down in her seat. She slouched down, sinking further in her chair with her legs stretched out and her head tilted back as her eyes closed.

"You sure you're okay?"

Tina's voice sounded distant, like she was talking underwater or from across a field rather than right next to her. But (Y/n) forced herself to smile and nodded. She was here now. There was no turning back and leaving class now.

"Headache," She mumbled quietly before she forced herself to sit forward so she could get her notes and her textbook out her bag.

Her fingers skimmed across her phone and a shiver jolted down her spine when she turned it on silent and realised she had a message.

*Buck said you weren't feeling well today, are you okay? Do you need anything? xx

Maddie's thoughtful words made (Y/n) smile both happily and anxiously at the same time. It was sweet. (Y/n) wasn't used to having so many caring people around her, especially not people she considered family. But she also didn't like the thought of lying to Evan and Maddie. But she had to; she didn't want to worry them.

She sent a quick reply and stuffed her phone down in the bottom of her bag while she took a deep breath.

Please Maddie, don't stop by the apartment and realise I'm not there!

By the end of the first class, (Y/n) started to realise she might have made an error. She forgot just how long double classes could be when they didn't get lunch or even a half an hour break between classes.

It wasn't often they had doubles back to back like this, but they were a killer.

(Y/n)'s head was swimming. Her notes were scribbled and mismatched and she didn't even have the will or the energy to do her footnotes or her headlines in colour. She was going to have to re-write her notes tomorrow or another day when she felt better so the information could actually sink in her mind properly.

Her hand began to shake as she finished up the last note she was copying from the slideshow.

Dropping her pen down on the desk, (Y/n) slouched in her seat and fought off the urge to start crying.

Why did she have to feel sick when she had classes? Why had it taken all of her energy to walk down here? Why couldn't she feel ill over the weekend when she had time to rest and recover? Why couldn't she just get through class and feel rough when she went back home? It wasn't fair.

Reaching down into her bag, (Y/n) found the bottle of Coke she'd hidden away in there and tried to take a few sips. But the bubbles burned at the back of her throat and the sugar didn't perk her up like she hoped it would.

When she realised the room felt like it was starting to heat up, (Y/n) looked to her right. They were right next to the window. Maybe a bit of fresh air would make her feel better. She had seen Tina shed her jacket half an hour ago so she wouldn't mind the window opening, and their teacher never minded them getting up to have a stretch or open a window.

Pushing up from her seat, (Y/n) moved to the window but she took a sharp breath when she realised her knees were shaking back and forth like they were about to buckle.

Her lips pressed into a thin line and she pushed the window wide open, standing still for a second to take in a gulp of fresh air which she prayed would relieve her headache.

She wasn't sure what made her turn her head and look at the table a few feet in front of her and Tina, but when she did, (Y/n) felt her upper lip curling.

Sandra was staring at her.

She didn't seem bothered that she was making it extremely obvious who she was looking at or the fact that she was clearly being rude by staring behind her at (Y/n). She had one arm draped across the back of her chair, one leg crossed over the other and a sickly sweet smile on her face that (Y/n) wanted to wipe off like messy make up.

(Y/n) couldn't be bothered to feel annoyed. She took in another breath of air, relieved that there was a cold breeze flowing directly outside the window. Her head tilted to one side and she stared back at Sandra with an annoyed, perplexed look while Sandra simply grinned and looked her up and down.

"Ignore her. Snotty cow." Tina took (Y/n)'s hand when she sat back down and spoke loud enough for Sandra to hear and huff as she spun back around. "You okay, you're flushed." She rubbed her hand up and down (Y/n)'s arm and leaned a little closer, keeping her voice quiet so no one else could eavesdrop.

"Just a headache."

She knew it wasn't just a headache anymore. Her stomach was twisting; that sandwich she'd had for lunch was threatening to make a reappearance. Her body was overheating and feeling sluggish.

Just another hour and a half. That was all (Y/n) needed to get through. One more class and then she could go home and if she felt this bad tomorrow, (Y/n) definitely wouldn't be coming into class. She would stay home tomorrow for sure. It was Evan's day off, she would stay home with him and rest tomorrow if she could just get through today.

"Maybe you should ask for a break, or head home? If you're not well you don't have to be here, I'll bring you my notes when we finish."

"I'm already here; I can't just up and leave." Her eyes closed and her cheek fell on her hand to prop her head up that suddenly felt far too heavy.

It felt like she was stood beneath Niagra falls with how damp her forehead was and how her shirt was starting to cling to her body. She was relieved she had chosen a white shirt so no one could see how badly she was sweating.

She couldn't just go and ask the professor if she could go and have a break for five minutes. No one else got to do that and (Y/n) wasn't special, she didn't need preferrential treatment because she was pregnant. And she couldn't go home now she had made it through half of the class. She had to stay and finish the course.

She would fail if she didn't stay. Their professor wouldn't be happy with her if she left. (Y/n) needed to be here.

"Then at least have some water, please?" Tina slid her bottled water across the table and arched a brow. Her forearms pressed down into the table as she sat up higher on her knees. Tina always sat on her knees or with her legs crossed on the chair, it 'helped her concentrate'.

With her intense stare, (Y/n) felt obliged and took a few sips, glad it felt better than drinking Coke.

"Everyone take a sheet and fill them in, then we'll go over the answers in ten minutes." Their professor, Alice, waved a handful of work sheets she had printed off and passed a few round for everyone to take and pass back.

At least it wasn't a quiz. (Y/n) wasn't sure her mind was in the right place to be trying to concentrate and panic about a quiz right now.

Her eyes lifted from the table and her lips formed a scowl when Sandra got up to pass a few forms around. Her smile was sickly and when she flashed her teeth (Y/n) wanted to grimace. She watched Sandra approach their small table in the corner and slide a form in front of each of them.

"Here you go, mummy-to-be."

A shiver crawled down (Y/n)'s spine and she huffed. It wasn't a hurtful comment, not when (Y/n) was happy to become a mum and she and Evan were happy about this baby. But it was annoying that Sandra had started to call her that whenever she saw her. It meant when the other people in their class, especially the snobby girls, heard Sandra, they were more inclined that start referring to (Y/n) that way too.

(Y/n) dragged the paper across the table so it was in front of her but she could barely focus her eyes enough to see the anatomy it was depicting or work out what she was supposed to fill in the blank spaces. But she looked up when she realised Sandra was still stood in front of their table.

"What are you waiting for? Do you need to be dismissed?" (Y/n) waved her hand out and flicked her wrist in the direction of Sandra's table. She could feel Tina sniggering beside her and the baby kicked happily when Sandra frowned but did as requested and went to sit back down.

She picked up her pen and looked down at the paper, but she couldn't read any of the words.

It wasn't worth filling in. (Y/n) couldn't process what it said or what she was supposed to be doing and this wasn't a quiz or anything they would be marked on. It was just a work sheet to help them revise and see how good they were doing towards the end of the semester.

(Y/n) knew their professor wasn't going to collect these in. She would go through the answers and then move on to the next topic.

Dropping her pen, (Y/n) moved to cradle her face in her hands and took deep breaths, but she knew deep down that she was going to have to do something soon. Whether that was go stand in the hallway for five minutes or make a break for it and ask Tina to tell their professor she wasn't well and had to go home.

Either way, she had to do something because she couldn't carry on like this. Evan had been right. She should of stayed home. But wasn't it worth something to try? After all she had gotten through one class and if this hadn't of been a double course today (Y/n) would have been fine.

"I'm going to the toilet." (Y/n) twisted in her seat to look at Tina while she breathed through her words and tried to pluck up the energy to move.

College was a bit more relaxed than school. They weren't told off for leaving class if they needed the toilet, the professors understood. But there was a silent expectation that everyone should at least try and get through class without needing a break.

But (Y/n)'s situation was different. Their professor had already said if she didn't feel well or was having problems to just let her know and if she had to leave it was perfectly fine. And she had said if (Y/n) needed a toilet break to just up and go. She didn't have to ask or draw attention to herself and (Y/n) was thankful how understanding their professor was.

"Okay… you good?"

She wanted to nod. (Y/n) wanted to smile and agree and say she was fine, there was no need to worry. But she couldn't. Because she didn't know if that was the truth or not.

Pushing up, (Y/n) used the back of Tina's chair as leverage and stood up, gathering her senses before she tried to get walking.

Her right hand trailed along the edge of the desk, a precaution just in case her wobbling legs decided to buckle beneath her or she stumbled. But she froze when she shakily walked past the table in front and a hand latched around her elbow.

"You okay there, mummy-to-be?" There was a hint of concern in Sandra's voice, but (Y/n) didn't trust the look in her eyes.

She wouldn't put it past Sandra to cause a scene or give her a nudge and make her fall just so she could try and help her and pretend to care. She seemed very eager and indulgent to embarrass (Y/n) thus far and (Y/n) didn't feel well enough to play this game with her today.

She tore her arm out of Sandra's grip and took a wobbling step away when Sandra stood up.

"You should sit down, you look ill." Carla leaned forward in her seat and scanned her eyes up and down (Y/n)'s frame. She looked a little more genuinely concerned than Sandra, like she might help (Y/n) if Sandra wasn't sat right next to her.

"Should we call your baby daddy, tell him he's got two kids to look after?"

(Y/n) was going to be sick.

She turned away just before the tears could start to fall down her face and she made a quick, hazardous walk towards the exit.

Her stomach tied in knots and her lungs shrivelled up when she felt all the eyes of everyone in her class watching as she stumbled out. She could almost hear them silently laughing. She could feel them watching her. She could imagine what they were going to be muttering after she left.

Everything started to spin when she stumbled into the toilets, flapping her hands out to lean on the cubicle to stop herself from going down on her knees.

"Oh God, are you okay?"

(Y/n) didn't recognise the girl by the sinks. She spared her one little glance and managed to shake her head, waving her hand to dismiss her concerns. (Y/n) didn't want help. She didn't want anyone coming close to her or approaching her or trying to intervene and assess her.

White spots like stars twinkled before her eyes when she pushed open the nearest cubicle and kicked the door shut behind her.

A mix between a whimper and a cry bubbled past her lips when her knees roughly hit the floor so hard her left knee joint clicked, echoing horribly off the plastic walls. Her hands clung to the rim of the toilet and she hunched over just in time to spew up her lunch.

She couldn't see.

Spots covered her vision that went completely white with twinkling glimmers and black rims sparkling around the edges. Her forehead flopped down onto her arm and her body went limp as she gasped, desperate to keep herself awake and lucid. She couldn't pass out in the toilets. She couldn't pass out at college. She had to be back in the apartment if she was going to faint; it wasn't safe here.

"(Y/n)? (Y/n)… oh God."

Her body shivered when she heard Tina push open the cubicle door and felt her hands on her shoulders. She felt Tina crouch down behind her and reach around to feel her temple which was throbbing, sweating and giving off heatwaves to parallel the sun.

"You need to go home, I'm calling Buck for you." Tina leaned back on her heels and looked behind her for the bags. She had grabbed both her and (Y/n)'s bags before she ran out the class after her to see what was going on.

"No- no he's… he's at work-" (Y/n) shook her head but it only made her temple ache and made her feel drowsy. Her lips felt chapped and dry and her throat tightened as she tried to take deep breaths and pray she wouldn't throw up again.

Evan was at work, they couldn't bother him while he was on shift. He didn't know (Y/n) had come out to college. He told her to stay home. She should have stayed home.

"Someone's gotta come get you, I don't fancy bussing it with you like this."

(Y/n) had walked here and there was no way she could walk home in this state. And Tina didn't fancy trying to get (Y/n) on and off the bus to get her home. The bus driver would call the police thinking Tina had drugged her. She had to call someone. If she couldn't get hold of Evan she would have to get (Y/n) to call his sister, she remembered (Y/n) saying his sister was now a close friend. They had to get help from someone.

Tilting her head to one side, (Y/n) tried weakly to take her phone off of Tina but Tina easily dodged her movements and held her hand instead for some comfort.

"Buck? Hi, it's Tina…" She had only spoken to him a handful of times and it didn't feel right talking to him on (Y/n)'s phone.

"Oh, hi. Everything okay, have you finished class already?" Evan scratched the back of his head before he looked down at his phone. Class must have finished early today if Tina was already with (Y/n).

"Not exactly… look I know you're at work but I don't know who else I'm supposed to call. (Y/n)'s not well, she's burning up and she's just been sick. She needs to go home-"

"Go home? She's seriously gone to class?" He bit down on his tongue to choke down the words he wanted to say.

She's gone to class when I asked her not to? She went and she didn't tell me? She's gone even though she knew she wasn't well enough to be there?

He asked her not to. He told her not to go. He explicitely said she wasn't well and it was okay for her to miss one class. Why would she ignore him and go ahead when she wasn't okay? Did (Y/n) not believe in herself enough to think missing one class would prevent her from passing her test next week?

Evan knew she wasn't well he knew she wasn't up to going to class and this just proved him right. He should have switched his shift and stayed home with her to make sure she was alright. He should have stayed to make sure she wouldn't go and do this.

All he wanted to do was look after (Y/n) and their baby. Why couldn't she just agree with him and let him look out for her?

"Yeah, I thought… um, what do you want me to do, call an ambulance, or-"

If this were any other situation, Tina would have rolled her eyes and quipped about how sly (Y/n) was to go to class when Evan clearly thought she was home. She would have said (Y/n) was being somewhat devious, in a playful manner, and told her she wouldn't get away with it.

"I'll come and get her, can you stay with her until I get there?" There was no way Evan was staying on shift when (Y/n) wasn't well. He would go and get her and see for himself how bad she was and determine whether he had to take her to the emergency room or not. He would call Maddie since it was her day off and ask if she'd come over when he got (Y/n) home, just to make sure she and the baby were okay.

But he didn't want them calling an ambulance. The last thing (Y/n) wanted was to go to the hospital if she didn't need to. And if the ambulance got there before Evan, he knew (Y/n) would have a panic attack if she got taken to the hospital without him.

"I won't leave her. Let us know when you get here."

"Thank you."

***

Evan could feel his hands balling up into fists when he made his way down the corridor.

He could see Tina dead ahead of him but he didn't need her there as a guide to show him where (Y/n) was. It seemed rather evident where his girlfriend was when he saw the students starting to crowd round the doorway, all trying to see what was going on. And a few probably waiting because they needed to use the toilets which were seemingly out of order for the time being.

Coursing ahead, Tina weaved around the other students milling about the hallway and met Evan who didn't break his stride when she approached him.

"What happened?"

"She didn't look too good in class, and she started to feel sick… she's thrown up twice. But she's managed to have a drink and calmed down."

Moving his hands down, Evan ran his palms up and down his thighs to try and calm himself down and settle his raging nerves. He let Tina take the lead and backtrack down the hall towards the toilets.

The moment (Y/n) lifted her head, she felt the tears welling up in her eyes all over again as she heard the familiar thud of Evan's work boots.

Her hazy vision blurred and she closed her eyes, tilting her head back against the wall while her trembling hands moved up and down her thighs. She could feel Professor Alice hovering close by.

When Alice realised what was going on, she handed out the next work sheets and came to wait with (Y/n). She had her arms folded over her chest, a comforting smile on her lips and she was leant up against the door. She had shooed away a lot of the girls from class and told them to get back to class and continue working, lest they wanted to be marked absent for trying to hover and gossip.

"Is this your partner?"

(Y/n) didn't have to open her eyes to nod and acknowledge that it was Evan who stormed into the room after Tina. But she opened her eyes and looked up when the Professor gave her shoulder a squeeze and looked down at her.

"I don't expect you back in class until next week. I'll email over the notes and paperwork you need; let me know how you are."

"Thank you."

With that, the Professor nodded at Evan and Tina and moved to stand outside the toilets, ushering away the girls who were waiting around. And directing them to the toilets on the first floor if they were so desperate to go.

Tilting her head to the right, (Y/n) bleakly opened her eyes and focused her attention on Evan's chin. She couldn't meet his eyes, not until his fingers gripped her chin and he tilted her head up. He wouldn't look away and he didn't say anything until (Y/n)'s hooded, watering eyes finally locked with his while he crouched down beside her.

She could feel his knees pressing into her thigh as he balanced between his toes and the heels of his feet. He had his left arm resting on his thigh and his other hand continued to hold her chin, his thumb reaching up to dart across her lips to see if they were chapped or not.

"How you feeling?" His hand let go of her chin so he could press the back of his hand against her forehead before he looked down at the water bottle next to her. Assessing how much she had actually drank since throwing up so he knew whether she was dehydrated or not.

"Surprisingly better." (Y/n) muttered somewhat defeatedly. She was glad to stop throwing up and she was relieved her stomach wasn't twisting or rocking up and down anymore like she was on a boat. But she still had a temperature and her head was splitting at the seams.

But this was better than what she had felt like back in class, whether Evan believed her or not.

"Wanna explain why you're here when I told you not to come in?"

"Not really."

Evan cracked a smile before he moved his hand to run across his jawline and down his chin. "Alright, we're going home. Let's get you up."

Her hands moved to his biceps and she felt him hold her elbows and carefully pull her up with him. He curved an arm around her waist and moved his other hand to hold (Y/n)'s hip. When she had her bag on her shoulder and she nodded, they followed Tina towards the door.

(Y/n) suddenly wished she had a transporter. She wished she could zap herself from here directly to the jeep. Or find a time machine that would rewind back to this morning or fast-forward to this evening so she wouldn't have to feel like this. She wouldn't have to see if anyone was still hanging around the toilets trying to see what was going on. She wouldn't have to deal with what Sandra had said or remember the snide look on her face when she ran out of class.

Opening the door, Tina stood to one side and waited for the couple to walk out but her lips curled into a grimace when she looked around.

Sandra. Stood by their classroom door, leaning against the wall with a smile on her lips that radiated unease and sinister intentions. Along with dark eyes that were just looking to cause mayhem.

"How is she?"

(Y/n) dropped her gaze to the floor and turned to the left, trying to steer Evan back in the other direction towards the exit. She couldn't be bothered with Sandra any longer. She wasn't worth the hassle of pretending to be nice and (Y/n) didn't want to see the way she would act around Evan or what she would say.

She instinctively knew Sandra would play it nice and try to pretend she was a friend. She would want to act the concerned friend. She would want to talk to Evan because in her mind, Evan was trapped with (Y/n) and he wasn't happy with her. She wanted to cause trouble.

When she stepped closer, Tina stepped back and moved to stand on (Y/n)'s other side. They weren't going to give her the time of day.

But Evan could see the way both girls seemed to change and become uneasy when they looked across at the other girl in the corridor. His arm instinctively tightened around (Y/n)'s waist and he leaned down so he could hover his lips over the shell of her ear, pretending to place a kiss there.

"Is that her? Sandra?" He murmured quietly, wracking his brain to try and remember the name of the girl (Y/n) was worried about.

He knew (Y/n) didn't mention her often and it worried him because he didn't know if this girl was saying things to (Y/n) that she wasn't telling him. He had no idea if she was upsetting (Y/n) or being rude to her or trying to cause problems because (Y/n) wouldn't tell him. She didn't want to cause problems when she was so close to graduating and she didn't see the point in telling Evan and upsetting him.

It was a relief last week that Maddie had quietly told Evan what happened in the store. He had to know if that was happening, he had to know so he could do something about it.

(Y/n) stayed silent but when Evan looked between Tina and Sandra, he got his answer as Tina nodded her head and stuck her nose in the air as if Sandra was a bad smell they needed to get away from.

When she felt Evan's arm unhook from her waist, (Y/n) looked up at him with wide eyes that were pooling with fear when he started to move. She wrapped both her hands around his bicep and shook her head, trying to hold his arm against her chest and stop him from doing something he shouldn't.

"Evan-" Her hands started to shake as Evan reached up and entwined their hands together to stop her from panicking.

He kept tight hold of (Y/n)'s hand and pinned her arm into his side, preventing her from trying to pull him away. He felt her head press into his arm out of anxious habit while his body turned to the right so he was facing the girl he had never met before but had a distinct amount of anger towards.

"You're a piece of work."

Evan's words clearly took Sandra by surprise. She leaned on her back foot and took a cautious look around the hall, checking to see if anyone else was nearby or within hearing range. But it was just the four of them out here now.

Her eyes narrowed in on Evan's hand when he pointed his free hand at her and straightened his shoulders, towering in front of her like a bad omen.

"My sister told me what you said to (Y/n) last week. So listen to me, madam. If I find out you've been tormenting my girl again, I'll be back down here and I'll get you suspended from class. She means the world to me. Stay away from her."

He could tell his words had the right impact because a furious blush crept onto Sandra's face and she couldn't look anywhere but down at her shoes. The way she swallowed and started to dig her nails into her palms told Evan his message seemed to have gotten through to her, so he turned around.

He let go of (Y/n)'s hand so he could loop his arm around her shoulders and tuck her into his side while his lips merged with the top of her head.

Evan had no problems coming back here and talking to (Y/n)'s professor if he found out Sandra had said or done anything else after today. He wasn't having it. (Y/n) had every right to be in class and to do her work and not feel scared or victimised by the people around her. She hadn't done anything wrong and they had no right to be as cruel to her as they were.

"Let's go home, Maddie's coming over." He kissed the top of (Y/n)'s head while he felt her turn and press her cheek into his chest as they walked out.

He had called Maddie on his way down and asked if she would come over both to check (Y/n) was okay and to stay with them for a while. He had a feeling (Y/n) would be shaken up after this and thought it might be good to have Maddie round with them for tea. Then if (Y/n) felt any worse or was sick again, Maddie would be there to help.

It was tempting to turn around and look behind him to see if Sandra had run off or if she was still stood there watching them leave. But he forced himself to keep walking, pushing his focus solely on his girl tucked beneath his arm. She was his world.

And Evan wasn't going to allow anyone to upset her again.

[armory-rasa]

COUCH POUCH!! Free Pattern & Tutorial

...called thus because they use upholstery-weight leather for the bag body, that in my case was in fact skinned off a couch. 🤣 Turns out they are relatively quick and easy to make, so I tidied up the pattern for printing and took pictures to document the process when I made another five of them.

First off, print your pattern, 100% scale:

The bag shape was a modified version of the pattern I used for the Morpheus sandbag, but sized to fit in the roughly 11" squares that my couch skin came in. It makes a bag that sits very well on a tabletop, thanks to the flat base.

Though it turned out to not be the most efficient use of material, because that plus-shaped pattern tessellates well, if you're cutting them out of a full hide, but makes a lot of waste when you're cutting them out of squares of material. A more efficient design would have a half-rounded front and back, and a gusset between them, like so:

Ah well. It's not like I have any shortage of couch skin, though for the next round I'm going to experiment with a more efficient pattern.

First step, trace and cut out the bag body from your chrome-tan leather:

Like I said, this was upholstery leather, but anything that's flexible and ~1.5 mm thick will do.

The flap and front need to be a stiffer leather though -- I used 7 oz latigo, but veg-tan would work equally well. (And then you could ✨tool it!✨)

Cut them out, and then use the pattern to mark where your holes are going to be. Mark the holes on your bag body too:

The latigo pieces get hand-stitched to the bag body, so I used a stitching groover to carve out little channels for the thread -- it's not strictly necessary, but it makes your stitches lay a lot more neatly:

Punch the holes shown below:

I used a ~5 mm hole punch for those, and a 1.5" slot punch for the belt loops. Some of the holes on the front piece you're not punching yet, because they need to go through both layers.

I put a dab of contact cement on the pieces (circled in white) to help hold them in place when I go to punch the stitching holes:

(Make sure you're not putting glue between the belt loops)

Wait fifteen minutes for the contact cement to dry until tacky, and then line up the holes and the edges and press the pieces together:

Punch stitching holes:

Saddle-stitch both pieces in place (takes 28" of thread per):

Now you can punch these holes:

(I used a slightly smaller hole punch than for the others, but it doesn't really matter.)

Now press the right sides of the leather together and sew up the seams from the inside:

A regular sewing machine should be able to handle this, though you will need thicker thread, a heavy-duty leather-sewing needle, and a walking foot attachment. (If you don't have a walking foot attachment, it is SO WORTH getting one, even if you don't expect to sew much leather. Seriously, I use it for everything -- once you go walking foot, you don't go back. 💀) Because you can't pin leather without leaving permanent holes in it, tiny binder clips can be helpful for keeping your material lined up.

What they look like when you're finished sewing:

Cut 19" of lacing for the drawstring, and 11" of lacing for the toggle:

I use the 1/8" EcoSoft lace from Tandy, I think it's stronger than real leather would be at that thickness. The only important factor here is that you need something with a bit of texture and friction -- a silk cord isn't going to stay closed, it's going to slip open.

MANY BAGS.

For these I used a wooden toggle -- cut another 8" of lacing, looped it through the toggle twice, and then made a tight square knot on the back:

But another option is putting a concho or a large button on the flap. The bag I copied this design from, in fact, uses a concho toggle:

Thread some beads on the laces to keep the ends from getting lost, and you are DONE! 😁

Happy Bagging!

[seamsterslocal]

summer binder picture tutorial

this is the third binder ive made for myself recently and the first one i’m writing up. it’s designed to do a few things: 1) allow me to put it on by myself without dislocating my shoulders 2) allow me to breathe well enough to partake in normal activity 3) be cool enough to wear throughout a muggy 90-100F summer 4) not constrict my ribs in a way that aggravates my lack of connective tissue and causes intense pain.

this has become necessary even though i had top surgery many years ago, because when i had it i was extremely skinny and since then i’ve increased in size by about 50%. this has been really fucking good for my health in every single way* except that when my chest is squishy or moves at all it’s So Goddamn Triggering for me. but also since ive had top surgery ive developed and/or been made away of a plethora of chronic conditions that make every single commercially available binding option medically impossible. unbound, my chest is pretty much what you’d expect for a chubby cis guy but venturing out into the world in just a tshirt no longer works for me

*anyone who badmouths weight gain or fat bodies in the notes WILL be blocked

under the cut are a bunch of process pictures and explanations of what they all mean:

first i’ll give you a look at the pieces and measurements:

most of the seams are sewn in this picture and one half is turned inside out, allowing you to see both the finished dimensions (right) and the placement of the fusible horsehair canvas that gives this lil scrap of linen any structure at all (left)

to get your chest measurement, you’re gonna have to do some math:

first measure above and below what you want to bind. average these numbers. mine are something like 32 and 34, which average to 33. subtract a few inches--this is to allow the air movement between the laces at center front and back, critical in the summertime. i deleted 3 inches bc i like that number but you can go bigger if you want. the more inches you subtract here, the more youll be able to ratchet all your chest material down later, but at the same time you need to leave enough fabric for a sturdy garment. let’s say a range of 2-6 inches/5-15cm. by taking your measurements this way, you’re essentially measuring the chest you would like to have. that + the horsehair canvas work together to compress any squishy tissue/force anything that doesnt compress up and to the outside (basically into the armpit/lower shoulder--the chest might stick out but it will give a very puffed chest captain america pectoral silhouette)

you can also see how ive clipped my curves and pre-drilled my lacing holes. i used the marlin spike on my knife to open up the holes on the interfacing side, mainly as a way of marking them. this worked well bc the interfacing’s glue kept the linen from raveling

this is the same stage but looking at the non-interfaced grey linen/cotton blend (the black is some 100% linen from my cabbage stash). you can see ive broken the solar-plexus-to-back measurement up into a bunch of pieces to save on fabric but that’s not necessary. my original pattern was just two pieces (front and back) and chopping the straps into thirds on both sides was aesthetic

in the following picture you can really see how this is really just overgrown regency stays:

i thought about doing side lacing but didn’t think that would be comfortable for me. on the front, the side seam allowance was pressed inwards before turning to create a finished looking slot. on the back the side seam is left unfinished with an extra wide seam allowance, and is inserted into that slot.

here’s a closeup on it pinned in place (you can adjust the angle of the side seam and the fit during this pinning stage):

that side seam was just topstitched in place once i had the fit how i liked it, and the armhole was reinforced with more topstitching

alright, time for eyelets: first, you can see how well the marking worked:

next, two rows of basted eyelets (left), one row of eyelets sewn with a doubled and waxed cotton thread (center right), and one row of eyelets opened and stainless steel rings placed (right).

next time i’m going to mark the eyelets same as i did above, but do this step differently--i’ll mark and baste the steel rings in place BEFORE widening the eyelets. this is bc i had a lot of problems keeping the eyelets on center

eyelets half done on this one! on the left are eyelets sewn with doubled and waxed cotton thread and on the right eyelets sewn with quadrupled and waxed thread. the center is basting again. i was able to force the holes back in line while sewing the eyelets but it was kinda annoying. adding a second picture that doesnt have great focus but hopefully shows how that process worked and shows the spike clearly

i ended up using this white cotton thread because it’s stronger than my black cotton thread (which the rest of it is sewn with). [eta: after this was first posted, i pressed the whole thing heavily, which effectively de-waxed the thread, and i dyed the whole thing a medium charcoal grey, the thread blends in perfectly on the lighter side and isn’t such a sore thumb on the darker side]

bonus: the piecing layout for that little piece of strap. the whole light gray half of the binder was made from 1/2 of one of the legs i cut off some linen suit pants to make slutty camping shorts last year and i really really didn’t want to break into any of the other three halves for this garment--i have Plans for it

overall the fit of this is incredible. it DOESNT hurt my ribs which every zip-up garment ive been able to find (and it is difficult) does due to really thick elastic at the base. it doesnt aggravate my sensory issues with the synthetic fibers that every commercial option is made of. i can walk up a hill or stairs, or go to pt, without getting too out of breath. i can eat with it tight, or loosen the front easily and without taking it off to make eating easier and less nausea-inducing. it is reversible!

best of all the lacing at the back gives the garment enough movement for me to get it on without dislocating, and the interfacing and steel rings give it structure once it’s on. the shaping comes only from fusible horsehair linen canvas and stainless steel rings like youd use for chainmail, there’s no boning at all, which makes it very quick to sew (except the eyelets, but metal grommets would be sturdy and quick provided theyre of good quality)

there’s a small amount of gaping on the outside of the shoulder strap, which i plan on fixing with a tiny tiny dart in the armpit, i want to add pockets to tuck the laces into, and i need a better lace for the back, but it’s completely wearable in time for the 90 weather next week which is all i wanted. i’ll do a reblog when it’s perfectly finished with an update on the fit but for now it is done enough 

the little ridge where it doesnt lay flat against the shoulder is most visible with just a single t shirt over it. with a flannel or a sweater, it disappears, and by itself, it’s hidden in movement

eta: after dyeing this, i relaced it a bit looser in the back and that gape mainly disappeared. ive decided to leave it in instead of smoothing it with a dart because the loose fabric gives space for my chest to expand when breathing and shapes my silhouette in a way that emphasizes my shoulders

[naruto-fantasy-zine]

🪄Naruto Fantasy AU Zine: Pre-orders now OPEN!!!🪄

Dreaming in Daylight, Drowning in Darkness is a Naruto Fantasy AU project featuring a treasure trove of fantastical goodies!

From flights of fancy to folklore, magic and monsters, swords and swashbucklers, let your imagination run wild in this enchanting two-part Naruto AU Fantasy book! Split into two sections, this zine will explore both the light side (Dreaming in Daylight) and dark side (Drowning in Darkness) of the fantasy genre. It promises to be a genuine delight!

⭐ P4Pzines.com⭐

PRE-ORDERS are open July 1st to August 11th, 2024 !!!

***Stretch goals and product descriptions below the cut.***

⭐Poetry and Art hardback book - HARDBACK - 8.5" (21.6cm) square, includes PDF  - featuring luxurious fantasy AU art spreads paired with breathtaking poetry! ⭐ Bonus content book - A5, grayscale, includes PDF - featuring all sorts of bonus content including process work, sketches, full art, poems, and fics! ⭐ 2025 Wall calendar - 8.5"x11" (21.6cm*28cm), saddle-stitched, includes PDF - featuring beautiful works from our zine artists to accompany you through the year!

Treasure Chest includes: ⭐ Rigid magnetic box - a generous 6"x9" (15.25cm*22.9cm) rigid box with magnetic closure! ⭐8" (20cm) square gold foil print ⭐ (x3) Standard art prints ⭐ (x2) Die-cut stickers ⭐ 5"x7" (12.7*17.8cm) Sticker sheet ⭐ (x2) Acrylic charms ⭐ Wrist lanyard ⭐ Hard enamel pin ⭐ Sticky note pad ⭐ Feather pen and  ⭐ Our AMAZING A5 Leatherette journal!!!

Dungeon Raid includes: ⭐Poetry and Art hardback book ⭐ Rigid magnetic box ⭐ 8" square gold foil print ⭐ (x3) Standard art prints ⭐ (x2) Die-cut stickers ⭐ 5"x7" (12.7*17.8cm) Sticker sheet ⭐ (x2) Acrylic charms ⭐ Wrist lanyard ⭐ Hard enamel pin ⭐ Sticky note pad ⭐ Feather pen and  ⭐ Our AMAZING A5 Leatherette journal!!!     

Dragon's Hoard includes: ⭐Poetry and Art hardback book ⭐ Bonus content book ⭐ 2025 Wall calendar ⭐ Rigid magnetic box ⭐ 8" square gold foil print ⭐ (x3) Standard art prints ⭐ (x2) Die-cut stickers ⭐ 5"x7" (12.7*17.8cm) Sticker sheet ⭐ (x2) Acrylic charms ⭐ Wrist lanyard ⭐ Hard enamel pin ⭐ Sticky note pad ⭐ Feather pen and  ⭐ Our AMAZING A5 Leatherette journal!!!

Applicable stretch goals: 25 orders ⭐ Chatterbox and temp tattoo (all orders) 50 orders ⭐ Cover prints (all orders) 75 orders ⭐ Acrylic binder clip (Merch orders) 100 orders ⭐ (x6) Spread prints (Dungeon Raid and Dragon's Hoard)

[wrangleandtame]

A Distinct Hook Echo (Finally)

Tyler vowed to kiss her tonight. This was getting ridiculous. He’d clutched the handle of her suitcase at that airport instead of grabbing her around the waist and sweeping her into a dramatic kiss. Kate had practically shot up flares and waved him in using airplane marshaling wands, and he still just stared at her mouth like an idiot.

All afternoon, as they pursued storms across muggy Oklahoma fields, he’d squandered every opportunity to cup the back of her neck and draw her into an adrenaline-veneered kiss; each golden moment slipping through his fingers like so much hematitic Oklahoma dirt.

Her rebooked flight departed in the morning, so when the last possible tornado of the day busted out, they stumbled across a familiar motel and agreed to clean up and get some rest.

“Kate?” He stopped her as she began to trudge up the motel stairs, and she spun to face him.

“Can I take you out to dinner?” He casually pulled a piece of grass hay from her hair. “Pretty sure the only place open is the Shady Grady bar across the street, so I can’t guarantee the quality of the meal, but -“

“Eight o’clock?”

He nodded, “eight o’clock.”

At seven-thirty, he entered the bar determined to stow his uncharacteristic jitters and make a goddamned move.

As far as romantic settings go, Tyler figured he’d just have to make the most of the meager atmosphere. Music blared from a cheap sound system, filling the establishment with muted, cracked versions of modern country ballads. The stale air smelled of peanuts, alcohol, and overtly perfumed customers.

He promptly spotted Kate, who smiled at him from a booth across the room; those globular brown eyes drew him to her like tractor beams. He strode confidently through a packed dance floor of denim, cowboy hats, and clacking boots on the oak floor.

“You’re early,” he said and slid into the high-backed wood booth.

“So are you,” she observed with a grin.

Honey-lit by the poorly attempted ambient lighting, her hair glowed golden, her mascara-dressed eyes the dark rich mahogany of the drink in the tumbler before her.

He’d grown accustomed to seeing Kate in two states of being: completely disheveled or freshly scrubbed. Witnessing the polished version stirred within him a fresh yearning. Radiant in her simple black silk camisole, small gold hoop earrings, and glossy lips, she’d pinned half her hair up, the remaining falling in blonde waves brushing her shoulders.

“You’re always beautiful Kate,” he tried not to behave as gobsmacked as he felt. “But tonight, you’re goddamned stunning.”

“Pretty dapper yourself.”

In reality, the only difference in his appearance from his usual attire was the addition of a soft caramel blazer, and, of course, the efforts she couldn’t see: his frantic pre-date preparations of trimming his nose hairs, whitening his teeth, manicuring his junk, clipping his toenails and spraying on some Dior Sauvage.

He tore his eyes from her to examine the laptop, tablet, binder, notebook and phone strewn across the table, “what’s all this?”

She shrugged, “I wanted to rework some things before my presentation, and the motel’s wifi is garbage.”

“Making any progress?” he seized a yellow legal pad and scanned her neatly written notes.

“Not really,” she admitted. “Would you want to do a read-through? Let me know what you think? I don’t want to get this wrong.”

“Course I would. But, I’d bet the farm you’re overthinkin’ it.”

“You’ve got to have a farm to bet first.”

“I do.”

“You do?”

“Mmhm. Send it to me; I’ll read it tonight.”

She tapped at the keys, presumably texting the file to him, and without looking up she said, “I’m actually glad you’re early.”

“Oh yeah,” he smiled, “why’s that?”

She quickly evaluated their immediate surroundings and leaned in, lowering her voice, “Some mega creep isn’t taking no for an answer; he keeps circling me like I’m roadkill.”

“Need me to scare him off?”

“Need? No. Want? Very much so.”

“I can do that,” he smiled widely.

She tilted her head, “why do you look so eager?”

“I like bein’ useful to you.”

“Have I not told you how incredibly useful I find you?”

“Not near enough,” he retained his eyes on her, memorizing her face at this moment.

The creep suddenly appeared at their table, too tall and too attractive, Tyler decided, with dark hair and bright blue eyes.

He placed a glass of liquor in front of Kate, ignoring Tyler’s presence altogether. "Hey there, beautiful. Woodford Reserve, neat, right?”

“Well that’s mighty generous of you,” Tyler drawled, snatched the glass and downed the drink in one swallow, slamming the empty tumbler back on the table. “This sure is a friendly town.”

Megacreep seethed, “That wasn’t for you!”

“Oh, my apologies,” Tyler feigned confusion. “When you said ‘beautiful,’ I thought you were talkin’ to me.”

Kate chortled and covered it by clearing her throat.

“Who the fuck are you?” Megacreep snarled at him.

“Now here I thought sure you were a fan of mine,” Tyler declared. “I get a lot of free drinks from my fans.”

“Is this your fella?” MegaCreep asked Kate.

She gazed at Tyler, her eyes shining affectionately, “there is a distinct and growing possibility.”

He smirked, “hear that buddy? I’m a growin’ possibility.”

“You’re a dick.”

“Been called worse. Today even.”

Kate chuckled, and Megacreep stepped towards her, pointing his large finger at her, “what kinda bitch doesn’t say she’s got a boyfriend?”

Tyler stood in a blink, placing himself physically between Kate and Megacreep. Arms akimbo and his voice cold, Tyler practically growled, “you’re gonna walk away now. Nope, no, don’t look at her. Don’t talk to her. Walk the fuck away. Go on now.”

Megacreep stared him down for a moment, as though considering his options. Despite Megacreep’s height advantage, Kate wasn’t too concerned; Tyler’s sturdy presence and irrepressible conviction imbued the intimidating impression that he wouldn’t at all require height.

“What a waste,” Megacreep snarled, and stomped away like a pissed toddler. Tyler didn’t move, his eyes glued to the guy until he fully exited the bar.

His relaxed posture returned immediately, and he slid back into the vinyl seat across from her.

“You white knighted me,” she teased warmly.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s get back to that distinct possibility you were talkin’ about.”

She laughed, “Tyler, I’m leaving in the morning.”

“But you’re comin’ back.”

“Probably.”

He scowled, “what do you mean ‘probably’? You’re not thinkin’ about staying in New York? You don’t belong in New York, Kate.”

“Why’s that?”

He appeared personally aggrieved and more than a little irritated, “you’re tellin’ me you’d be happier in New York? I mean, your face when we’re out there in those fields? You light up like a firefly in June! You sure as shit aren’t letting us do this without you.”

She blinked softly at him.

Relief dressed his face, “you enjoyin’ watchin’ me squirm?”

“Lil’ bit,” She shrugged.

“Sadist.”

She laughed. Under the gloLike cozying beside a crackling fire on a chilly evening, it was impossible not to feel a deep warmth and joy under the glow of his full attention.

He regarded her, “seriously, Kate, you’re a fuckin’ knockout.”

“Thank you,” she responded, oddly flustered from his blatant admiration; she glanced at her drink and then back up at his ridiculously handsome face. She couldn’t think what else to say. Her mother always christened Kate as bilingual, in that she spoke English and sass fluently. Charm, however, she could never harness. Tyler Owens had a master’s degree.

Initially, upon meeting Tyler, she attempted minimal eye contact to avoid the unnerving fever of his beauty. Quickly though, he disarmed her hesitancy with his earnest altruism and overflowing enthusiasm, and she’d been forced to become accustomed to his excessively good looks.

“Jesus Christ, what kind of whiskey are you drinking?” He peered into her tumbler, feeling slightly buzzed. “Shit’s strong.”

“It’s just bourbon.”

“Bourbon?” He raised his eyebrows. “You a mafia kingpin or a nineteen fifties ad exec?”

She smiled, “I like bourbon. My grandfather used to give me little sips as a kid. Misguided as he was, I think I developed a taste for it.”

Kate’s reticence about her life enflamed Tyler’s natural delight in discovery. Every tidbit, every newly uncovered piece of the Kate-puzzle felt like a win, "Is he still alive, your grandfather?”

As she started to answer, a sudden vertiginous wave pummeled him, and he placed his palms on the table for stability.

“Tyler, are you okay?”

He squinted, a sleepy warmth spread through his limbs, “I had exactly one drink, your drink, and that was it.”

“What does that mean; are you feeling sick?”

His jaw muscles clenched, and his eyebrows drew together as though he deliberated on something difficult or painful.

“Tyler?” She reached across the table, placing her hand atop his. “Answer me. Are you okay?”

He met her eyes and fumed, “I think that skyscraper-sized predator roofied your drink.”

“What? Seriously?”

“I’m going to feed him his fuckin’ teeth,” he stood, irate, and then immediately sat back down, “after the room stops spinning.”

“Oh my god. We should, we should get you to the hospital,” she slammed her laptop lid closed and started shoveling everything into her messenger bag.

“I don’t need a hospital.”

“You don’t know what he put in there, or more importantly, how much.”

“I don’t need a damn hospital,” he scowled. “I’m wasted. I’m not dying.”

Her face puckered in concern, “how do you feel?”

He shrugged, “tore up from the floor up.”

“If you won’t let me take you to the hospital, then we need to get you to your room before you pass out.”

“Not gonna pass out.”

“How do you know?” She tilted her head, “You been roofied before?”

“Course not.”

“Well I have, so I can tell you that we need to get you somewhere before you pass out. And fast.”

His face fell, “you’ve, Kate, you’ve been -“

“In college. I was fine. I was with friends who kept me safe. It happens more often than you can imagine. Now let’s get you out of here, because Tyler, I don’t think I can carry you.”

He swallowed, his face pained, “yeah, yeah okay.”

He rose to his feet and inhaled deeply while Kate wrapped her messenger bag across her body and stood, shoving her phone in her pocket.

“Here, put your arm around me in case you get woozy.”

“I know you’re strong Kate, but if I go down, it’s going to be like getting clobbered by a bald cypress.”

“Just do what I’m saying,” she gripped his hand and hung it around her shoulder and wrapped her arm around his waist.

“Bossy,” he grumbled.

“You like it,” she scoffed, “Pfft, a bald cypress. You think quite a lot of yourself.”

He chuckled and then he sighed, suddenly forlorn, “hey, I’m, I really didn’t imagine this is how our date would go.”

“Well maybe later you can tell me what you did imagine.”

“You flirtin’ with me?”

“For days now, Tyler. Let’s get out of here.”

They began the journey across the wooden floor, feet crunching upon the husks of peanut shells tossed aside, and to his credit, Tyler walked fairly well, despite his growing sense of instability. They weaved around the little square tables littered with empty beer bottles, shot glasses and crumpled cocktail napkins.

They both immediately glimpsed the sky as they exited the bar, habitually checking conditions. The fresh temperate air returned a sense of normalcy to the peculiar circumstances.

They crossed the deserted highway hand in hand, by the time they reached the stairs of the motel, Tyler felt he’d crossed the Rubicon, and plopped himself down on the bottom step.

“If you rest there, you’re going to end up staying there; get up, Tyler.”

“Alrighty,” he pulled himself up by the railing.

“Which room?”

“Hmm. Not sure actually,” he pointed at the entire row of motel rooms, his vision progressively more blurry.

“That’s alright. I need to keep an eye on you anyway. Let’s just go to mine,” she climbed the stairs behind him and then grasped his hand, guiding him into her room.

“Sit down,” she pointed at her bed, and he obliged obediently. For a clearly vain man, Tyler truly possessed very little ego. He never appeared slighted or emasculated by Kate’s leadership or expertise. From day one, he approached her as though her abilities very possibly exceeded his own. She couldn’t say the same for ninety-seven percent of her male colleagues, even those with years less experience and education. Tyler’s cocky assuredness should have translated into the typical arrogant know-it-all, but ever-surprisingly, his heart and mind opened to all ideas, and he easily credited those around him for his successes.

“Kate?”

“Yeah?” She unloaded her gear onto the dresser top and turned to face his distressed expression.

“I’m hammered, and I’m twice your size,” He frowned. “That drink would have knocked you out cold.”

“I know, Tyler.”

“He might’ve, I mean if you drank that instead of me, if I wasn’t there, he could’ve…” he appeared both furious and on the verge of tears.

“Yeah, I know,” she grimaced. “Try not to think about it.”

“I’m sorry, that this world, that you have to deal with shit like that.”

“It’s alright,” she leaned against the dresser.

“It’s, it’s not,” he scowled, “why aren’t you angry?”

“I am, I just don’t have any practical answers, and I’m more concerned about you right now.”

He stared at his hands for a moment, then looked up, “You can’t ever accept a drink from someone you don’t know, okay?”

“I don’t,” she informed him as she helped him remove his blazer.

“You don’t?”

“No. I learned the hard way, but I learned,” she hung his blazer on the back of the office chair.

“That’s good. That’s real good. I feel better. World still sucks, though.”

He laid back on the bed, looking at the ceiling and promptly fell asleep.

Kate watched him breathe for a few minutes, then unpacked her bags and briefly stepped out of the room to place a few phone calls.

A short time later, while Kate again read through her presentation, she heard Tyler stir and turned in her chair to check in on him.

“Oh shit,” he bolted upright, “Kate, what if that asshole goes down the road and roofies some other girl?”

“I called the cops.”

“What? When?”

“When you passed out a little bit ago. They asked me to file a report online, and they called the two bars in the area and gave them my description.”

“I didn’t pass out.”

“You did. For about forty-five minutes. You snored.”

He eyed her skeptically. Those eyes. Good lord, was there even a name for that color? Not in any crayola box she’d seen.

“You did,” she imagined an alternative method in discovering he snored, but quickly redirected her thoughts.

“Do you have to go to New York?” He slurred.

“I’ll be back.”

“When?”

“I’m not sure yet. Get some sleep Tyler.”

“Hey Kate?”

“Yes?”

“I’ve wanted to kiss you two dozen times since we met. Atleast.”

She cocked her head and grinned, “Well what’s the holdup Tyler Owens?”

He smiled softly, “I’ve put the horse before the cart a few times. Too many times. Guess I didn’t want to, you know, I didn’t want to fuck this up, you and me. I mean I’ve been thinkin’ about kissin’ you since the day I first saw you, your hair all pulled into that clip, wearin’ that buttoned-up outfit and that serious beautiful face. Mile high walls up, and then you speak, and you’re fuckin’ brilliant and a little snarky -“

“I’m not snarky.”

“The snarkiest. Your mother agrees with me on this.”

“Of course she does.”

“Shush, I’m tryin’ to woo you with my words since my goddamned body feels like goo.”

“Well then go on. You’re doing fine.”

“I am?”

“Oh yes.”

He beamed, “so like I was sayin’, I didn’t want to fuck it up, and then the first time I saw you smile, like really smile, well, shit, I was done for. And then I really didn’t want to fuck it up. And I thought tonight, I’m not gonna blow it, and now,” he sighed. “Well, I can’t kiss you while I’m shitfaced. Can’t actually feel my lips right now,” he closed his eyes and touched his lips. “There they are. Okay I can feel them.”

She stifled a laugh. His inebriated declaration moved her to match his bold honesty, “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone quite like you, and in case I haven’t made it very clear: I would like you to kiss me. Try not to worry on it. It’ll happen. And I’ll kiss you back, and then all of the other good things that come with that.”

He smiled, full teeth, “that is. S’wonderful. News.”

“Isn’t it?” She tried not to giggle. Even in this dingy motel room, Tyler practically glowed with health. Eternally sun-gilded, eyes that sparkled like a freshwater lake in summer, his sculpted body a vision of purpose.

He frowned, “what if I don’t remember?”

“I’ll remind you.”

“Promise?” His eyes so round he resembled what he must have looked like as a child.

“Cross my heart.”

“And you’re comin’ back?”

“Of course I’m coming back. The only thing I have in New York is a plant I’ve killed and replaced six times, a neighbor cat I pretend is mine, and workmates that think I don’t know their nickname for me is Elsa.”

“Who’s Elsa?”

“The snow queen.”

“You’re from Oklahoma.”

“It’s their terribly clever way of saying I’m an icy cold bitch.”

“What? But. You’re not. You’re kind and compassionate and who the fuck would think that?”

“It really doesn’t bother me,” she quietly thought on it for a moment. “This one guy, god he hates me, he hums, “let it go,” when I walk past him.”

“What’s that?”

“The song. You know.”

“How’s it go?”

Kate cleared her throat and hummed a few bars.

He shook his head “I don’t think I’ve heard it.”

“You’ve heard it,” Kate sang, “let it go, let it go, I don’t know the rest of the woooords.”

Mischief in his eyes, he smirked, “you’ve got a pretty voice.”

She laughed, “you shit, you know what song I’m talking about!”

“Course I know that song. I’m from Arkansas not Mars.”

She laughed and his heavy eyelids drooped again, “Tyler, go ahead and rest.

“Maybe just for a sec,” he stretched out across the bed and nearly instantly fell asleep again.

She turned back to her laptop and spent an hour extensively researching drugs used in date rapes, narrowing by state and then county. She reviewed the short and long term effects of the top three. Worst case scenarios always lapped her brain, and she found research could occasionally ease the anxiety. She tried reassuring herself that he likely metabolized quickly.

After an hour or so, he suddenly sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood.

She jumped up from her chair, “whoa, where you going?”

“Bathroom,” he closed one eye and pointed at the bathroom.

“Need help getting there?”

He used the edge of the bed as a handrail, working himself around it and closer to the bathroom, “I got it.”

She tried not to imagine him passing out and hitting his head as he shut the door. After he had flushed the toilet and the water ran for ten minutes Kate called through the door, “Tyler? You good?”

Tyler opened the door, shirtless, her toothbrush hanging out of his frothy mouth, “I’m good,” and he resumed brushing his teeth.

She eyed his white tee, button down and belt abandoned on the linoleum.

“Can’t stand my teeth feelin’ fuzzy,” he mumbled through a mouth full of toothpaste. He stopped brushing, eyes wide, “oh shit, this isn’t my toothbrush, cuz this isn't my room.”

She desperately attempted to retain her eyes on his face as she replied, “it’s fine.”

“What time is it?” He asked, post-gargle.

“Three AM.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“We should get some sleep.”

“That’s a great idea.”

He dropped to the bed like a felled tree, and seemed to find sleep immediately.

She attempted to wiggle his boots from his feet, which took quite a bit more effort than she anticipated, jostling him back awake in the process.

“Whatcha doin?” He raised to his elbows, watching her struggle with a fond amusement.

“Trying to help you,” she grunted, straddled his leg and yanking at the unmoving boot.

“You wanna help me, come on up here and cuddle me.”

She dropped his foot and peered at his lifted head, “Cuddle you?”

“Mmmhmm, c’mere Kate,” he held out his very attractive arms (that led to the rest of his very attractive body) to her as he easily toed off his boots.

She lowered herself next to him, and he pulled her flush against his chest, both strong arms wrapped around her. She adjusted slightly, and found herself unusually comfortable, given the hard terrain of his chisled chest.

“You clicked right into place like a lego; fit perfectly like you were made to go right here,” his voice rumbly from her location. “Legos click in, right? Did that make a damn bit of sense? Still feelin' a little smashed.”

His soft dark chest hair tickled her nose, “made sense and also accurate. Good job.”

“This’s nice. You smell nice. Like lemon merengue pie.”

“It’s my shampoo.”

He always smelled like everything she associated with love: wind-blown winter wheat fields, metallic dust, engine oil, earthy geosmin and crisp ozone. Tonight, his usual smells mixed with soap and that peppery manly cologne that seemingly every guy south of Nebraska wore.

She felt a bit self-conscious. Before this moment, they hadn’t even hugged. Strange to think, given how close she felt to him. The intimacy of having their bodies pressed against one another flicked inner switches she thought long dead. Shit, she hadn’t actually “cuddled” with anyone in a long long while. In five years. Not since the last time Jeb -

“Stop thinkin’.”

“How do you know I’m thinking?”

“Can feel it in your body,” he ran one large hand down over her shoulder, along her torso, skimmed over her hip and back again. “Rest Kate.”

She very nearly moaned, and swallowed before answering, “I’ll try.”

“Relax your body. Listen to my heart. You’re okay. I’m okay. Let’s sleep.” he nuzzled the top of her head with his chin. “Rest Kate.”

She smiled into his chest.

“Goodnight Sapulpa.”

“Goodnight Tyler.”

A few minutes passed, and her eyes began to feel heavy and her limbs leaden.

She relaxed, but she didn’t fall asleep for quite some time, just listening to his deep breathing, her head and hand falling into the rhythm of his chest. His strong heart beat a steady consistent rhythm , and she’d have been lying to herself if she didn’t consider for just a moment, that she belonged right here, in his arms, on his chest: warm, safe, cared for. Who wouldn’t want that?

She glanced up at his sweet little mouth, open and letting out even puffs of air. Who wouldn’t want him?

Talk about putting the cart before the horse.

Besides, the logistics bordered on nightmarish. Sure, she wanted him. Badly. But, the last time she had attempted to fuck some idiot plagued her brain. She’d finally given it a go after three years in New York, not because her heart called out, but because her body demanded it. The moment the making out progressed into something more, her heart rate picked up, her body rife with confusion, launched her into a full-blown panic attack. She ended up shoving him off of her, locked herself in the bathroom, vomiting and hyperventilating for an hour. She’d Uber’d home and completely swore off dating after that. Hell, after that, she’d even consume a glass of wine before masturbating to avoid the possibility of bringing on another panic attack. Add to that, her Jeb-based survivor’s guilt tainted any bit of attraction she felt for other men. It just hadn’t been on her mind anymore. It didn’t seem possible, so she stopped caring.

That disastrous date occurred years ago; she attempted to reason with herself. She drove straight into tornadoes now for fuck’s sake! When did that become less frightening than fucking a man who nearly made her come every time he called her Sapulpa (stupidest nickname ever.) Tyler had awakened a desire in her she thought she’d fully cremated.

She feared even trying. Good lord, if it went well, though - wasn’t it worth the risk? Wasn’t he worth the risk?

She’d argued with herself in this fashion a dozen times in the last forty-eight hours.

She must have fallen asleep for an hour or two, but awoke at first light, the little spoon, his heavy arm draped across her waist, his palm under her shirt, tucked around her abdomen.

She checked her phone and her flight status: on time. Disappointment weighted her to the bed for another moment, before obligations began stacking in her brain, and she slipped from beneath him to ready herself and her belongings.

She considered waking him but settled on grabbing a pen from her bag and jotting a note on a motel pad.

“Where you goin’?” he groused from bed.

She turned to see him sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

“My plane is on time. Javi’s downstairs.”

“I can drive you.”

She walked over to the bed and sat next to him, “best not drive yet. Just in case.”

“I’m fine.”

“I know but, for my peace of mind, just sleep a little longer and then hydrate.”

“When are you coming back?”

“Next week, at the latest. Go back to sleep.”

She stood and grabbed her suitcase handle. His chest tightened; her impending departure upset him in a way he couldn’t fathom. No concrete ties bound them; they’d made no promises. Kate’s face at the airport yesterday, “this could be it,” pinged around in his brain.

“Hey Sapulpa?”

She turned towards him, a moment from reaching for the doorknob.

“Don’t go.”

She again released the suitcase, sauntered to him, and stood between his legs. He tilted his face up, and her hands rested on either side of his face, sending tingles down his neck. Her thumbs brushing over his ears, her lips hovered so near to his, he thought he might be dreaming. Her eyes drifted shut, waiting generously for Tyler to seal the deal. He closed the centimeter between their mouths, crashing his soft warm lips into hers. Their kiss went from chaste to passionate in less than half a second, and Tyler pulled her down to straddle him upon the bed. He leaned back, taking her with him, and quickly flipped her beneath him, all without breaking the slow, wet, deep kisses they pressed upon each other. Their ministrations rounded corners neither had intended when Kate broke the kiss. His mouth detoured to her neck biting and kissing up to her ears, and she struggled to find coherent speech.

“I’d like to stay right here with you,” she huffed, breathless, “but, I, I have to go Tyler.”

“I know,” he kissed her cheeks, chin, nose and mouth, again, softly and too briefly.

“Next week?” He asked voice thick with desire, as she unclasped her legs from around his waist, realizing with chagrin she’d caged him in a thigh-vise.

“At the latest,” she smiled into his mouth, and he pulled her up to standing with him.

His brawny arms still trapped her against him when a knock at the door drew them back to reality.

He sighed, his nose nuzzling hers, “Javi’s impatient.”

“Reporting for duty!” Boone yelled through the door.

Tyler raised an eyebrow, pulling his face back to meet her eyes, “I don’t need a babysitter.”

She gripped his face in her palms, lovingly running her thumbs along his jaw, “I know you’re not feeling the effects anymore, but the half-life of Rohypnol is like twenty hours, if that’s even what he dosed you with. It just, it scares me Tyler. I can’t stay with you, but I don’t want you to be alone.”

He softened at her vulnerability, planted one last slow and impossibly gentle kiss upon her lips and whispered, “better let him in then.”

She opened her motel door to Boone’s enormous smile, “Heya Kate. Javi’s chomping at the bit down there; he says you’ll miss your flight if you don’t get a move on.”

“Thank you for getting here so fast,” she gave him a quick hug.

“No problemo,” he nodded and plopped down in the office chair, spun around once entirely, and then watched Kate and Tyler exchange a languishing look.

“Sent me your proposal?”

She smiled at him from the doorway, suitcase in hand, “yep.”

He returned her smile, “Call me when you land?”

“I will. Hydrate. Rest.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

When the door clicked to a close behind her, his heart ached, but with less finality.

“So? Did you do it? Did you kiss her?”

“C’mon, Boone, you know I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Yeah, but did you? Did you kiss her?”

“Course I kissed her,” he smiled proudly, falling back into bed to the sound of Boone’s signature “yip!”

One week, at the most.

Hell, he’d been searching for her his whole life; what was another week?

AUTHOR’s NOTE:

This was just supposed to be a fluffy lil fic I would return to whenever I got frustrated writing my other fics. Didn’t mean for it to turn into 5k words monster fic. Feed this writer with your comments, if you feel so inspired. I love reading your feedback.

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

so many three-quarters of one moon ago, @asexualbookbird tagged me to do the "random things in your room" poll, and i have FINALLY gotten my ducks linear enough to participate! therefore, without further ado:

tagging: @alloreli, @six-of-ravens, @e-b-reads, and anyone else who wants to play!!

[subbiehoney]

Bio

I go by Honey

I'm 34

Pansexual

Nonbinary (ftm) he/they

I AM NOT A GIRL,

Please don't call me a girl or sissy

I don't want to argue this and blocking will happen if you come at me with transphobia.

I'm a sub and into a lot of fun things :)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Transphobes, homophobes, racists, and ableists, do not interact!

This is an 18+ blog exclusively!

Kinks:

doms, (especially pleasure doms),

breath play,

pinning,

bondage,

biting,

aftercare,

forced orgasm,

forced toys,

hair pulling,

overstimulation!!!!

bound to fucking machines or vibrators,

slave training,

orgasm punishment, needing permission to cum,

getting shared with a group (gangbangs),

tentacles

hot wax,

crotch rope,

spit roast,

forced to ride a dildo,

crops and whips,

In Public secret vibrator

Cockwarming dildos

Soft limit: I have found I don't really like much degradation without praise. It's not a hard limit but I'm probably not getting anything out of it.

Limits: age play, piss, scat, vomit , Incest including feuxcest, tickling, bestiality, detrans and transphobia, anything physically dirty like toilet seats, fat phobia or any weight sort of insults, anything that will make me risk my marriage

Toys available:

Clothespins (plastic and wooden)

Binder clips

Nipple clamps with weights and chain

Clover clamps with chain

Spring loaded clamps

5 of the 5 Oz weights to add to the chain of clamps

5 in double knotted dildo (suction cup)

6 inch knotted and textured dildo

9 inch suction

5 inch attachment for massage gun

Hitachi wand

Mini wand (otw)

Suction vibe (otw)

Bullet (need to find the charger though)

G spot vibe with clit suction (broken, a new one otw)

App controlled egg vibrator

App controlled thrusting small dildo

Anal hook with handle

Anal dilating toy (can't fit it yet)

Large glass dildo for anal

[rellsingsovern]

There’s no grounds, Jawbone!

On Wednesday afternoon, three days before spring break, The Bad Kids receive their late report cards and open them together. That Friday, they are marched through a door, expecting to die.

The POV of various parents and teachers of The Bad Kids, during the days leading up to the Last Standard Exam.

Chapter 2: Denial (read chapter one on ao3 at rellsingsovern!)

Riz came home exactly when he said he would, which immediately tipped Sklonda off to the fact that something was amiss.

It was late for the town of Elmville, which meant that her night was just getting started. Who says 9:52 pm on a Wednesday night can't be the perfect time to start reviewing her court footage? She’s 20 seconds into the video and three minutes into hitting the refresh button over and over again (curse the Strongtower wifi) when the sound of a motorcycle grumbling up to the building down below blended into the whine of the single fluorescent bulb up in the ceiling of the living room (curse the Strongtower electricity). Her ear flicked of its own accord a few minutes later, registering no footsteps approaching, as to be expected of her rouge son, but picking up the rustling of papers coming from the hallway through the thin walls.

She frowned absentmindedly. Ever since her and Riz had had that talk in November she’d done her best to pay more attention to his habits and tendencies regarding his fucking insane schedule. Much like one of his boards, he kept all his belongings in an ordered chaos she doubted even Pok would have been able to wrap his head around. Sticky notes on papers, papers in folders, folders in binders, highlighters and rubber bands and paper clips in every color made their way from his backpack to his briefcase to his backpack again, leaving Riz his hands free, an intentional move on his part. Wouldn’t be a very good rouge if I couldn’t draw my gun because I’ve got someone’s homework in my hands, he’d quipped to her early in the year, before the bags under his eyes became darker than a bruise and his eyes twitched as much as they blinked, before Fabian started throwing parties Riz for some reason still went to and before Kristen roped him into-

The sound of a pin in the lock snapped her out of her own head and back into her apartment. The part of her that was Sklonda Gukgak: Mom of Riz noticed Riz stumbled through the door lacking his usual grace, most likely due to the backpack that had been progressively more and stuffed full of school supplies ever since Falinell (it made her wonder why he didn’t open his briefcase as often anymore). The part of her that was still Chief Detective Sklonda Gukgak of the Elmville Police Department noticed that in Riz’s hands were his lockpick that he used to enter the apartment and a pile of envelopes and coupon papers that was certainly their mail, bills and coupons and more bills and a dark red envelope with the official stamp of Aguefort Adventuring Academy on it.

And more bills. Great.

Her ear flicked again, and she absent-mindedly thumbed the arrow keys on her crystal laptop, the ones she knew didn’t work anymore, taking in her teenage son who was home before 10 for the first time in a while. “Hey sweetie,” she greeted, eyeing the papers in his hands. She always got the mail, on account of Riz just straight up Misty Stepping into the apartment in a rush between school and his office and school again. “I’m glad to see you, you hungry or anything?”

Riz stepped through the door, closing it behind him, looking down through the lenses of his glasses. “I’m fine, thanks mom. Jawbone ordered Bastion Market.”

She hummed, thinking of the two most recent text messages in her crystal.

3:06 pm

hi mom just finished yearbook club heading to mordred then stand-up night then home around 10 getting rides from fabian love you

4:48 pm

Hey Sklonda Jawbone here, Riz mentioned something about an event he was supposed to attend tonight but he’s decided to stay here for dinner instead, perfectly all right with myself Sandy and Lydia but just wanted to update ya in case you go looking. He’s not taking the grading news too well. I’m sure he’s told you about it but just a heads up. Working on a solution for the kids in the morning, yall hang tight 👍

Riz had, in fact, not told her about ‘it’ yet. Sklonda had had half a mind to call Sandra-lynn to see what Jawbone had meant, but decided to wait until Riz got home, although she had expected to see him way later, if not the next morning. She eyed the red envelope he still held in between his fingers, flicking the lockpick with a small thwack thwack thwack on the seal and wondered if that was ‘it’.

“Thanks for getting the mail, kiddo.” She knows he knows what she’s actually saying. You never get the mail, that’s my job, you’re home early, what are you doing?

What’s wrong?

He shrugged his seemingly 50 pound backpack off his 90 pound body, putting it on the floor but not taking his eyes off it. “Just thought I’d get it on the way up.” His voice says, steady and even-toned.

Former Chief Detective Sklonda Gukgak sees his body language say please don’t question me further.

Hah, Mom Sklonda Gukgak thought to herself. Not a chance in hell.

“Y’know,” she said, closing her laptop and pretending not to notice the way her son’s shoulders rose to his ears immediately. “Whenever you give me a time you’ll be home by, you’re never actually home at that time. And I know you’re very capable, Riz, but I worry about you.”

He muttered something under his breath, holding out the stack of bills to her, holding that damn envelope in his other hand, still not making eye contact.

Riz was a perfect rouge. He had a light step and a light touch and an impeccable aim. He had a brain that ran a million miles per hour and a goblin grit he inherited from his father. He’d been picking the lock to the apartment since he was twelve and learning to shoot a gun since he was thirteen. He was smart, sneaky and secretive.

But he didn’t keep secrets from her.

After Pok died, Sklonda had tried to keep many things from Riz. How scared she was. How exhausted she was. She would throw herself into work then throw herself into bed, crying with her face in Pok’s pillow as the signs of him faded from their life, as silent as she could so Riz wouldn’t hear. His desk became dusty, his razor sat unused, and his pillow stopped smelling like his cologne. She ran and ran and ran from the pain, never thinking about it, closing the door to his office where the ghost of her husband sat until Riz had tried to leave for school one day in shoes too big for him and a briefcase that hadn’t left the apartment in weeks.

At her protests, her nine-year old son had looked at her through his shaggy hair with big, sad, golden eyes. Pok had always been the one who gave Riz haircuts.

You never talk about him anymore, he said. You pretend you aren’t tired all the time and you pretend he’s not gone.

It hurts, mom.

Her beautiful, brilliant, investigative son had deduced what she wouldn’t, what she couldn’t tell him. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

It’s okay if it hurts. I’m still here.

She didn’t open the door to Pok’s room, and she didn’t let Riz go to school with his shoes. But from that day on Riz toted a briefcase everywhere, and on his tenth birthday she gave him a haircut, his own pair of brown loafers (still a little too big, but at the thrift store you take what you can get) and took him to Cravencroft where she whispered all her deepest fears, laid them down on the dirt under her son’s knees and in front of her husband’s grave, confessed to the bone-deep exhaustion that weighed down her arms and her legs and her heart.

Gukgaks don’t give up, Riz whispered back to her, golden eyes shining like suns, an echo of his father’s favorite phrase. She looked at his close-cropped hair and saw Pok. Then she looked at the bags under his eyes and saw herself.

After that Sklonda only had one secret to keep, and Riz had walked into Pok’s room and blew the dust off his desk two years ago in a mighty whirlwind of a 15 year-old detective hot on the case. With the blood of a dragon still hot in her stomach, she and Riz had promised to never hide anything from each other. Not their stress, not their exhaustion, and not their thoughts. Never again did she try to hide her tiredness from Riz, allowing him to replace her cold cups of coffee and lead her to bed on the days when her feet felt like stone, and when he got too jittery and manic with a drive to solve whatever mystery he was currently on she pressed at him until he eventually spilled his guts and she could get him to call a friend for backup in getting him to sleep at least four hours a night. Riz had been raised to notice all he could and never back down, and she had been the one to do it. He had his adventuring party, and she had a new job and new friends, but it was still just the two of them at odds with a world not meant for goblins, two Gukgaks in a shitty apartment, one weighed down with something they wouldn’t confess to and the other who noticed looking up through golden eyes.

Sklonda held out her hand for the red envelope.

Riz, who told her everything, who called her in freshman year every time he discovered something or murdered someone, who as soon as he got back from his spring break quest told her about Pok, who told her about the Loams and the Spies Tongue curse and Fig’s (maybe) god, did not hand it over.

Not a chance in hell.

“I’ll be in my room,” Riz started, leaving his backpack by the sofa as he turned and started away.

“What’s in the envelope, Riz.” She said, pushing as much goblin mom into her voice as possible and knowing it worked when he froze in place. “I don’t like knowing there’s a secret you’re keeping from me.”

“It’s not important.”

“Of course it is.”

He laughed under his breath, still turned away from her. “No, I mean like, it’s really not important anymore. Nothing in there matters.”

“Riz…”

He laughed again, and something in her stomach, a liquid mix of hot worry irritation worry froze into something heavy and cold like dread as his laugh broke into a dry gasp, sharp and cutting. “It’s fine, mom, really.”

“I’m sure it’s not, whatever it is, but I’m sure it’s not that bad either. You can just tell me honey, you know I won’t ever be mad.”

Her words seemed to register and nudge him away from whatever he was spiraling towards, but she still felt her lungs tighten and the cold sharpen in the pit of her stomach. He turned to look at her fully, and she didn't flinch, would never shy away from her son, but his eyes were dull, darker than she’s ever seen, as dark as her own during those first few months of just her and Riz.

He handed her the envelope with shaky hands and in the blink of an eye was suddenly sitting down on the other side of the couch, pressing himself into the flat cushions like they could swallow him whole.

She opened the envelope with no small amount of trepidation, wondering what could be so bad that her son came home at a reasonable time at night.

Reaching inside, Sklonda pulled out two pieces of paper, one significantly bigger than the other. Looking at the smaller one first, her heart at first fell and the soared with pride as she beheld a small slip of paper detailing that her son had earned an A+ in his rouge track during his most recent semester. Student shows signs of mastery at mundane and arcane lockpicking. Student shows signs of mastery at detecting/disarming mundane and arcane traps. Student shows signs of mastery at dealing damage with both short and long range weaponry. Student shows signs of mastery at remaining unseen by others.

The list went on, and she turned to Riz with elation. “This is amazing, Riz!”

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, sinking further into the cushions. “Read the other one before I vomit again, mom.”

She flicked open the larger paper with confusion, starting to read, and with every word the ice in her stomach turned back into red hot anger.

Dear parent/guardian,

Your child, Riz Gukgak, has been moved to PASS/FAIL academic status at the Aguefort Adventuring Academy due to FAILURE/EXPULSION of party member Kristin Applebees. PASS/FAIL academic status will nullify any and all extra credit earned from extracurriculars including athletic teams, school-sponsored clubs, and volunteer work in compliance with the Aguefort Adventuring Academy. Your child will be allowed to remain at the Aguefort Adventuring Academy for the duration of their current school year. They must attend graduation and complete their teacher evaluation(s) in order to be accepted back into the Aguefort Adventuring Academy the upcoming year. If your child is a part of any multiclass program they will not be accepted back into their additional academic tracks and must remain only in their primary class the upcoming year. PASS/FAIL academic status cannot be removed or rectified from a student’s academic transcript with exception of the undergoing and completion of The Last Standard Examination. Please contact guidance counselor Jawbone O’Shaughnessy with questions, comments, or concerns.

Regards,

Interim Vice Principal Jace Stardiamond

Failure. Expulsion.

Kristen Applebees.

“-and I don’t even remember if we’re eligible to take The Last Stand this early in the year or if we have to wait until the last semester, but Kristin will be forced to leave this Friday, so if we can’t take it, I don’t know what we’ll do, Fabian, Gorgug, and Fig will be screwed next year and-“

Her blood was boiling, her ears were ringing, drowning out Riz’s voice.

Failure. Expulsion. Campaign manager. Someone else’s homework. People who call him The Ball.

Kristin Applebees.

“-hates her, and I don’t understand why, it’s just not fair-“

“It’s not fair,” Sklonda hissed out, a mirror of Riz’s, her snarl cutting through the air and making the words die on her son’s tongue. Forcing her hands to be still, pushing down the hot flash of rage in her belly, she schooled herself into the professionalism of Public Defender Sklonda Gukgak. Her son needed the cool head and steady tone that she prided herself on, her analytical eye and her forthrightness.

She could fret later. Her son had been blindsided by something she really should have seen coming ever since November, and it was time to address it.

She continued, voice low, watching her son’s posture relax bit by bit. “It’s not fair. Thank you for showing me, baby. We’ll figure it out, I promise.”

Riz turned to face her fully on the couch, knee nudging hers, and the hotness of worry irritation worry surged behind her eyes for half a second as she noticed a vein on Riz’s forehead that had never been there before. “You’re not mad?”

“No, kiddo, not at you. Never at you.”

“But…” He worried the chain of one of his necklaces between his teeth, a nervous trait he told her he’d picked up over the summer. He had sat up out of the cushions, but his knees were still drawn up uncomfortably, pressing his arms into his chest. “Without the pension, and without the extracurriculars… the scholarships-”

Stress was a thing Sklonda was familiar with. It lived in her apartment walls, on the underside of the peeling wallpaper. It filled the rooms in the flickers of darkness when the lights stopped working. It sat in the bottom of her coffee cups, and she’d admit that she found herself chasing it like her son chased clues, with a lot of intensity and only a little self-awareness. She knows her son too well, just like his mother and father in all the best and worst ways. Riz had too much in common with her, too many bad habits, and she’d sooner go back to her old job than ever let her son send himself more into the same stress-filled state she lived in for his party members.

“It’s not your fault,” she said, shuffling closer and putting an arm around Riz’s shoulders, wincing when she felt they were far too tight. Something in her quietly cooed when he laid his head down on her shoulder, glasses being knocked askew, strands of green hair falling and tickling her chin. “I’m not mad at you. I know how hard you’ve worked this year, and I’m so sorry Kristin messed it up for you.”

The shifting of chains between sharp fangs stopped. “...What?”

She rubbed his shoulder, keeping her voice low and soothing. “You’ve been doing far too much for her since the beginning of the year, Riz, it was really a matter of time before-”

“Mom, stop!”

Worry irritation worry confusion dread pooled in her gut as Riz shoved himself off her side and stood up off the couch furiously. “You can’t say that about Kristin, mom, how could you?”

She blinked hard. “What do you mean, how could- she got expelled, Riz, I know she and Fig aren’t academically inclined but c’mon, at least Fig is actually trying.”

“And what makes you think Kristin ‘isn’t trying’?” Riz scoffed, claws making quotes in the air with a harshness that rivaled when he tore into Kalvaxus two years ago. “She tries harder than the rest of us combined, she works so hard-”

“At what, Riz? Her campaign? The one that you run for her?”

“You don't get to talk about Kristin like that!”

This is exactly the opposite of what she wanted to happen. She wanted to hug her son and tell him it would all be alright while texting Sandra-lynn and Jawbone about what the heck The Last Standard Examination was and how Riz could take it. She could count on her fingers the amount of times conversations with Riz had turned to shouting, and even then they were always family matters, never about his party.

Sklonda loved Kristin, she really did. From the back half of freshman year until spring break of sophomore year Kristin spent a lot of time in Strongtower, rotating between the Faeth house and Gilear’s place down the hall before he moved out, wherever Fig was staying that week. Then it was down a few floors in Jawbone’s; sometimes she could still hear the shrieks of laughter echoing up through the thin floors as a gaggle of 15 year old adventurers ran through the halls far later than they were supposed to (not that she ever had the heart to tell Riz to keep it down when he hung out with his friends). Riz was a quiet kid before he went to Aguefort; Sklonda got the idea that Kristin had never been so. She always said what was on her mind, even if it was exceedingly inappropriate (she’s heard enough stories from Sandra-Lynn about her and Tracker during spring break). Always loud, always chaotic, a girl who jumped from idea to idea like she jumped from home to home.

That was a little cruel of her to think, Sklonda had been the one to order the raid on her house, after all.

Kristin had gotten a little quieter after spring break, Even Sklonda, whose building was no longer the Bad Kid’s default hangout spot, could see that. But she had also gotten a lot more chaotic.

“Kristin’s a good kid,” She said slowly, frowning when Riz shoved his hands under his glasses. “But you have to admit she struggles to stay on track sometimes.”

Riz glared at her through his fingers. “Doesn’t give you the right to insult her.”

“I’m not insulting her! It’s just the facts, sweetie, I know she’d never do anything to hurt you on purpose. But-” She waved the paper towards him, and he flinched away as though she were brandishing a gun. “-there’s two names on this paper, one being my son who joined every single extracurricular at the school and one being a girl who’s name my former coworkers apparently know due to several dropped charges of trespassing at the steelworkers factory?”

“You know I’ve probably got stuff on me too, mom, my midterm in December was to break into a warehouse downtown and plant a non-lethal arcane grenade set to go off when discovered.”

She remembered. It hadn’t gone off until February. He’d gotten an A+.

“That’s different, and not the point. Yours was an assignment for school, and Kristin’s apparently not been doing hers.”

“She’s got reasons to struggle, her god died, mom, I was there-“

“She can still cast, can’t she? You do everything for her, why can’t she at least maintain a C?”

“Oh my-” Riz dragged his hands down his face, muffling his next words. “You don’t understand-”

“Riz, I just worry that-”

“It’s not Kristin’s fault!”

“Then who’s is it?”

“I’m trying to explain-”

“Riz, don’t make excuses for her, she brought this on her-”

A sound filled the room, a short, sudden thing that sliced through the air. Riz’s eyes went wide, claws half curled at his side, and she realized the sound had just come from him.

Pressing his lips together as though he could stop the violent hiss that just came out of his mouth, Riz turned away and fled down the hall to his room, leaving his backpack and briefcase and a burning sensation behind Sklonda’s eyes that she couldn’t tell was rage or tears.

Another swing and a miss from Sklonda Gukgak about her poor, poor, boy.

A light flashed at the corner of her vision, startling her enough that her eyes were pulled away from the corner Riz disappeared behind. It was coming from within the couch cushions, and she reached in to pull out a blinking crystal.

10:02 pm

u alive the ball? kristin and I are still out here i wont leave until you respond

10:03 pm

i know u dont want to but if u told ur mom shed understand im sure of it

10:08 pm

we’re still herwogoTAKD2739/@(

10:08 pm

ITS KRISTIN I STOLE FABIANF S CRYSTL TMRW MORNIGN FIRST THIGN BOBBY DAWNS OFFICS I HAVW AN IDEA

10:09 pm

I L OVE OYU MAN THat assholes gonna pay for failing me on a fuckin technicality

What?

The blood rushing in her ears drowned out the incessant drone of the fluorescent light, but straining her hearing she realized that several floors down there was still the rumbling of a motorcycle.

Someone else’s homework. People who call him The Ball. Campaign manager.

Kristin Applebees had dropped Riz off from her own house, had stayed with Fabian and refused to leave until he texted them back, and here Sklonda was blaming her and probing at her son until he hissed and ran from her.

All sensation left from her, and numbly she got off the couch and started toward Riz’s room, crystal in hand. Stopping outside the closed door, Sklonda didn’t bother to knock. She knew he knew she was there.

The door didn’t open.

I don't understand, I don't have all the facts, I don’t know what’s going on, please tell me, she wanted to yell at the door like making more noise would save her from her mistakes.

“You left your crystal on the couch.” She murmured softly instead.

A pause. More rustling of papers, and when Riz opened the door he was holding his glasses in one hand and what looked like a map in the other, eyes dark. She held the crystal out.

He took it gingerly, and the numbness faded by just a little bit when his eyes got a little brighter, flicking over the crystal screen. He didn’t smile, but his face lost a little bit of tension.

He bit his lip and looked at her. “… I’m sorry I hissed at you. I didn’t mean to.”

She tried to smile, but wasn’t sure she succeeded. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you explain, sweetie. I’m all ears.”

He glanced at his crystal again, something changing in his posture. For a moment she was afraid he would close the door again, and even though she wanted nothing more in the world than to demand answers, she would let him.

“I don’t think I want to talk about it anymore tonight.” He said slowly, cautiously.

Sklonda nodded, thinking desperately about asking Sandra-Lynn out for drinks tomorrow.

“I just…” Riz looked down at the map in his hand, the words Ashgrove Cemetery scrawled in his handwriting at the top. “We’ve all worked so hard, Fig and Kristin and everyone, and-”

He swallowed. “I was gonna find the rouge teacher, mom. And now it doesn't matter.”

She could think of a million things to say, but all that came out of her mouth was, “Gukgaks don't give up.”

Her brave, smart, resilient, beautiful son’s eyes filled with tears, and he shut the door to his bedroom.

Stumbling back to the living room, Sklonda clumsily grabbed her crystal from the coffee table and sent a text, claws clicking against the screen.

10:13 pm

Jawbone, Riz just got home. What is The Last Stand?

The rumbling of the motorcycle faded from earshot. A few minutes later, her crystal lit up.

That oh so familiar heaviness of exhaustion and fear, the stress that lived in the bottom of her coffee cups, in the papers spilling out of Riz’s backpack hit her like a truck as she read Jawbone's response.

The lights flickered, and in the flash of darkness she saw a vision of her son, slumped over a desk, a paper in front of him with a dark red A+ written in goblin blood.

[cecropiacrown]

Mu Qing lays on his side in the bed that is not his, his body as rigid as a board and his hands tucked close to his chest. He keeps his breathing even, his body still, and tries his best to feign sleep—he just wishes he could force his eyes to close.

The dark room stretches out in front of him, cluttered in a way he wishes he could be mad at but that, truthfully, just makes it look homey and lived in.

The desk in the corner is piled high with an uncountable number of things—knick-knacks and paper stacks and stationery—and on the wall behind it is a corkboard with many items pinned to it. If Mu Qing squints, he can just barely make out the edges of several glossy photos displayed here. He wonders, absentmindedly, if he is in any of these photos, and then quickly abandons that train of thought, lest he run the risk of looking desperate—even if it's just to himself.

He eases out another quiet, steady breath and lets his eyes trace the edge of the desk until he's looking at the bookshelf, its three shelves teeming with textbooks, magazines, binders, and finished journals. Next to the bookshelf is the door to the closet, which is closed, and then on the adjacent wall is the door that leads out into the hallway. There's a hook on this side of the door that houses a few jackets and a heavily patched totebag. Even in the dark, Mu Qing can recognize the repair-job as his own.

It's clear that, regardless of how busy it all looks, everything seems to have its place and every place seems to have its thing.

Mu Qing, of course, is the only exception.

The mattress shifts and Mu Qing is, unfortunately, reminded of the source of the stifling warmth that lays at his back. He shivers involuntarily and squeezes the edge of the shared comforter between his fingers to try to ground himself. He stares forward and tries to forget about the heat—the mattress and the blanket—all of it. His eyes scan from the desk to the bookshelf to the closet to the door and back again. Desk. Bookshelf. Closet. Door.

The source of the warmth clears his throat and Mu Qing winces.

"I know you're not asleep, Mu Qing."

A full size mattress is too small for two grown men.

Mu Qing should have just taken the goddamn loveseat. It doesn't matter now, that he's much too tall for it, at least it wouldn't be this. God, anything other than this.

"And?" Mu Qing whispers back, having abandoned his lie now that he's been found out. He still holds himself taut, every bit of him on edge as he grapples with the fact that he's in Feng Xin's bed.

"You're practically falling off the bed."

"Alright. And?" Mu Qing asks, voice clipped with annoyance even though his heart is nearly beating out of his chest from nerves.

"Goddammit," Feng Xin grumbles, the bed shifting again as he rolls over to face Mu Qing. Mu Qing's mouth is dry and his grip on the comforter is strong enough to make his hands shake. God, he can't fucking do this.

There is silence until Feng Xin clears his throat, his tone almost gentle—teasing—when he speaks again.

"I'm not gonna bite, y'know."

But no, Mu Qing doesn't know. He doesn't know anything. He's not thinking about Feng Xin's teeth. About his mouth. No—fuck, fuck, fuck.

Mu Qing is too caught up in his own inner panic to form a response so Feng Xin mistakes his silence for discomfort, letting out a heavy, defeated sigh. The comforter is tugged down off of Mu Qing's shoulders as Feng Xin moves to sit up.

"Listen, I'll sleep on the floor or something—"

"No!" Mu Qing hisses, the response tumbling out of him before he can grab ahold of it and yank it back down his throat.

"Ah—okay..? I won't sleep on the floor, I guess."

Another silence falls between them as Feng Xin slips back underneath the blanket.

Mu Qing feels like he's going to burst into a million little pieces.

Instead, he swallows and keeps himself as close to the edge of the bed as he can manage, pulling the blanket up to cover his mouth and immediately regretting it as he becomes even further surrounded by Feng Xin's scent.