#I know where the regular card is it’s in my binder :)

[15hammerheadsharks]

Wish I fucking knew where my jumbo ash greninja ex card went

[spoonsandstripesblog]

Tips from a Spoonie

I've had chronic pain and chronic illness since childhood, so I've learned how to manage the medical world and how to manage my own care. I'm here to pass on some knowledge and tips.

Get a support buddy. It does not have to be a family member, it could be a friend, your partner, or even someone from a support group. Someone who can help you when you're in need, if you need an extra hand doing errands; you need someone to watch your pets while you're in the hospital; you need a ride to a doctor's appointment; etc. Believe me, this will be crucial, especially if you have a condition that is unpredictable.

Cluster your tasks. What I mean by this is, rather than spreading your appointments and errands throughout the day, try planning them all within the same time frame so you can use one burst of energy to get you through instead of having to maintain that energy all day long. My most productive time is the morning so I try to schedule all doctors appointments and errands first thing in the morning so that I can spend the remainder of the day doing less exhausting things (or nothing at all).

Take photos of all of your insurance cards and your ID. I say this as a patient and as a hospital employee who works with patients every day. Everyone carries their phones 24/7 so if you're ever without your wallet and you need your insurance card or a photo ID, it's very important to have a digital copy or an actual photo of these. You never know when an emergency will hit.

Use the portals. Most doctors offices and hospitals have some sort of online portal now where you have all of your appointments in one place, you can message your providers, you can refill medications. This will save you time and energy from having to call doctors and pharmacies trying to ask questions and get medications refilled, and you'll have your list of appointments in front of you that should give you all the details for that appointment. If your office does not have a portal, keep your information together regarding that office.

If you're a pen and paper kind of person, create a medical binder or invest in a medical journal where you can keep all of your important documentation, copies of your insurance cards, doctors information, test results, and medication list. Carry that binder/journal with you to all doctors offices, especially new providers.

Stay in the good graces of your doctors and their staff. Be firm about your care and ensure you're getting appropriate care and treatment, BUT do not burn bridges. Show up to your appointments on time and avoid cancelling last minute. If you know you're not going to make it to the appointment, give ample notice, because doctors offices WILL drop you if you're a consistent no-show or if you're considered a "non-compliant patient."

Carry a first aid kit. I'm not going to tell you what to keep in it because that varies on the person. For example, I keep Bandaids, Tums, Benadryl cream, Tylenol, tampons, my emergency inhaler, and a variety of other items that I use on a regular basis. Keep it in your bag or your car and keep it stocked, you'll thank yourself later.

Finally, become an expert on your condition(s). Do your own research on reputable websites like NIH or WHO or Mayo Clinic. Keep printed studies and information in your medical binder if you have one. If you have a condition that doctors often dismiss, you must become your own advocate and you need to come armed with facts.

There's tons more, but these are the main ones I can think of right now. If you can think of any that work for you that I haven't listed, feel free to add more!

[blackdollette]

oml im so sorry i have another request coz im literally so full of ideas and am horrible at writing. cheerleader bimbo reader x tutor charlie. (inspired by another ayesha erotica song called trashy...)

anyways readers stretching at home for her cheerleading competition tomorrow and charlie comes by mid stretch and he knocks and shes like "come innn!!!" and shes in the living room, leg straight up and in a short little skirt with little panties and all. and shes just like "oh hey, char! sorry i forgot about our sesh today.." and she pouts coz she loves her time with charlie. mansplaining to bimbos mmmm..

anyways. shes like "mind if i do some stretches while u ask me questions." and hes like "uh... sure" BONER ALERRRTTT !!!!! and hes just on the couch, pillow in his lap and reading the flash cards out to her. and shes like bent over the table with one leg high up and stuff and hes just "youre rly flexible..." and she finally makes a move !!! all "wanna see how flexible i can get, char?"

mb. im too horny ugh

oh my gosh!! yall are too creative. and im working on more requests today :))

"go cheerleader!" | charlie walker

jealous girl. - lana del rey

cheerleader!reader x charlie

contents: tit fucking, p in v, unprotected sex

you stretched your body into the standing splits position, feeling every muscle in your body responding to your movement as you brought your leg up all the way.

you felt your tiny little pleated skirt lifting up just a little before you heard a knock at the door. you knew it was charlie, who had been assigned as your new tutor since your teacher had said that "having big tits won't get you everywhere in life." whatever that meant. but you liked having him around. you felt whenever he let his eyes travel on your body. and you especially liked making him squirm.

"it's open!" you yelled out, bringing your leg down a little. charlie nervously opened the door and peeked at you. his eyes widened at the sight of you in this position, already feeling a slight twitch in his pants. "o-oh sorry. is this a bad time?" he asked shyly. "nope. come on in, charlie." he blushed as he heard his name in your mouth. he walked into the house, his head slightly down as he clenched the binder in his hand. from where he was, he had a perfect view of your little pink panties underneath your skirt. he saw your hot pink shirt stretching over your perfect tits. and he could tell that you weren't wearing a bra.

his breath caught in his throat before he made his way to the couch, sitting down. "i can go if you're busy. we can reschedule or something..." he looked at your ass as you slowly brought your leg down. "no, you can just ask me questions while i stretch. if that's alright with you, that is..?" he gulped and nodded, already feeling his dick hardening. he put a pillow on his lap and opened the binder to where you left off last time. "okay, so we're doing angles in math today."

you groaned in frustration. that was your least favourite unit. you just never understood a thing about it. he saw your frustration but continued reading from the book. "true or false. an acute angle is less than 90 degrees." you were on the floor, doing a regular split. you thought for a moment. "false?" you looked up at him, but he shook his head. you stood up and started pacing the room. "i swear im gonna bomb this quiz."

he was about to speak, but his boner was growing more unbearable by the second. then, he got an idea that would benefit both of you. "o-ok, how about this... do you know what 180 degrees is?" you shook your head, arms crossed. he had to hold back his excitement a little. "when you do the splits, your legs are in that angle, being in a straight line." your eyes lit up a little. you walked to the table and bent over it, lifting your leg high into the air, exposing your little panties once again. "like this, char?" charlie smiled a little. "yeah... just like that."

you held that position, fully stretching your muscles. his eyes were looking at places where they shouldn't be, but he just couldn't help it. "you're, uh, really flexible." charlie was starting to crumble apart, not being able to keep himself together. you could see that he was trying to cover his erection with that pillow, and you decided that it was finally time to make a move. you walked up to him, hand on your hips. "wanna see how flexible i really am, char?"

he couldn't believe his ears. were you really making a move on him? he had been planning out how to confess how much he liked you since he'd started tutoring you in freshman year, but now you were doing it with no thought at all. you truly were extraordinary. you took the pillow off of his lap, revealing his painfully hard erection. his face turned extremely red. "wow charlie. thats quite the boner you've got there. i never knew you had it in you." you teased as you started to palm his aching cock.

he groaned, swallowing all the saliva that had gathered in his mouth. you unbuttoned his jeans and pulled out his solid cock, his boxers already stained with his precum. he cleared his throat. "u-uh, there's something ive always wanted to do with you... may i?" you raised an eyebrow. charlies hands moved to the bottom of your shirt, pulling it up and letting your tits escape. his mouth gaped open as he saw them in all their glory. you caught the drift and put his cock in between them.

you spit on the tip of it and started moving them up and down his length. he was already moaning like he was about to cum right at that second. as he got more used to the sensation, he took them in his hands and thrust his hips into them, precum leaking out of his cock and getting on them. he was a complete mess, turning into the pathetic little boy that you've always known. as you felt his getting closer, you pulled your tits off of him. "don't wanna cum before the main event, do you char?" you slipped off your panties, giving them to him.

you turned around and put your arms on the ground, but your legs were doing the splits on his lap, in a strange version of the reverse cowgirl position. charlie looked at your glistening little pussy. you spat on your hand and reached back, giving charlies cock a few strokes before using the tip of it to rub your clit. charlie felt his heartbeat accelerating. this was the sexiest thing that hed ever seen. you slipped his cock into your cunt, getting a low groan out of him. once it was in, you started moving your hips up and down.

charlie put his hands on your thighs, this being the best position that he'd ever been in. as you started moving faster, charlie started losing control of himself, muttering how much badly hes wanted this and that you were the most perfect girl in the world. you felt your pussy tightening around him, your moans getting louder as you neared your orgasm. charlie had to look away, the sight of you being too overwhelming for him. his body started heating up as he began to tremble.

you felt yourself cumming all over him, and you heard him sigh as you left a milky white ring on the base of his cock. he had been waiting for you to cum, and now that you had, he could too. as he finally hit his orgasm, he pulled out of you and came all over your ass, painting it completely with all his cum. while he was cumming, his nails were digging into your soft thigh, holding onto them for dear life. you crawled off of him, and turned to face him. "that wasnt too bad charlie." you started tucking his dick back into his pants. "and i'd really like it if you came to my cheer tournament tomorrow night." you smiled. "y-yeah. ill be there." he said. tonight, his biggest dream had come true.

author's note: thank you so much for the request! i loved this one sm, charlies such a needy little boy. there are six or seven more requests that i have in my drafts, and ill be posting them as soon as possible. thank you!

[midnight-fox-boy]

At random I'll probably post random resources that people especially in the US or parts of the US may find helpful right now.

To kick this off (Post 1) I want to shout out Point Of Pride!

Point of Pride is an organization where you can get a free chest binder or free femme lower shape wear/compression underwear. I just got my new binder in the mail from them after finally getting to the top of the list after a bit over a year since I applied!

They use multiple companies now where they were an lot more limited before. From gc2b, For Them, underworks, tomboyX as examples, there's different options for people's different needs.

If you're looking for something compressing but safe to wear all day (so not quite as compressing as underworks or gc2b), then there's For Them (what I got!) and tomboyX. Definitely good options for people who don't feel safe enough to take regular binding precautions due to current political and safely issues.

I chose For Them in hopes my issues with my sizing (smaller chest, broader shoulders) wouldn't pop up like it had for gc2b, underworks, and regular sports bras. I'm pleased to say it binds really well for me while also being able to fit over my head with no issues. I even emailed For Them asking if they know of any issues related to this and they said they weren't aware of any and the binder can be worn in both directions. So the "back" of the binder can be the front as well. I found that the reversed option was uncomfortable for my shoulders personally and also was a bit less compressing so I could see this being good for people who can and want to swap compression levels slightly.

I don't have anything to say about the femme shape wear option but I did see that they do use a few different brands AND that the wait-list isn't nearly as long as for their binders (a year vs the femme shape wear being caught up to this last summer last I checked). Compression underwear properly sized is definitely a safer option vs some of the DIY alternatives so if you're in need of compression underwear or find other methods of tucking painful, check them out!

I also got a hand written card with a quote from Laverne cox which was so sweet on top of the pleasant surprise. I hadn't even had time to check the tracking number to see if it had been shipped yet due to being so busy lately lol

Being able to bind comfortably while also not compromising compression due to having to size up is nice. My chest is actually staying put unlike with my sized up gc2b that's started to fall apart

Remember to stay safe y'all 💜 and check out Point Of Pride's website to learn more about them as an organization!

[celeste444spacey]

AN IT GIRL'S GUIDE TO OLIVIA POPE.

Today we explore our favorite political master, handler, badass bitch, and quite possibly the most powerful person in Shondaland, the queen of the long running prime time tv show Scandal

OLIVIA CARLOYN POPE

Three words to describe Liv (actually 4)

Powerful, sophisticated, and unflinchingly composed

She is a born leader with a commanding presence and quite possibly the only person to ask the President of the United States to sit down and he will. She is the only person who can order around the White House and they will listen to her. She is quite possibly the only person in the world who can yell at the President of the United States of America and ask him to get his shit together. And guess what? He concedes.

WHY DOES LIV HAVE SO MUCH POWER?

Confidence, confidence, confidence.

We all know Ms Pope for her 'it's handled'. And when she says that it's handled, everyone backs off. Why? Cause it's handled. But how can she be so sure of herself? Cause of confidence.

And heck, even other people are so sure of Miss Pope. When words goes around that Olivia Pope is handling a situation, everyone breathes a sigh of relief.

FITZ IS DOWNRIGHT NEUROTIC FOR LIV. WHY?

simple. she doesn't care he's the fucking president.

For Liv, nothing is on the pedestal but her and her work. She doesn't care if the President and Cyrus throw a whole missile at her, that woman does NOT budge.

She doesn't need Fitz. Never did. And heck, that woman knows her damn worth.

like do i even have to mention this scene???

HABITS OF AN OLIVIA POPE WANNABE

Always be organized. Binders, folders, organizers, cabinets, labels...organization is downright sexy.

Don't procrastinate. Next time you don't wanna do that assignment, ask yourself: Did Olivia Pope stop working on her regular clients just cause the White House needed her? No. Would Olivia Pope say "i'll do it tomorrow' for gathering important intel that would save her client? NO. It's no longer an assignment. It's a client portfolio, and they're in the biggest political scandal in all of America.

Don't let people walk over you. Last thing anyone will want to do is mess with you. The entirety of Washington DC thinks twice before they even look at Ms. Pope. The same shall be with you.

Master the art of communication. How do you think the communications director of White House speaks? One of the main reasons Liv is Liv is cause of her mastery at communication and negotiation. Start working on your speech, trust me you'll suddenly start getting everything you want.

Being in touch with your emotions. Another reason Fitz was neurotic over Olivia was because she had this perfect blend of taking over control where she needs to but also being just as vulnerable when the time comes.

OLIVIA WANNABE'S WARDROBE ESSENTIALS

Blazers, A-line dresses, Trench coats, timeless and structured handbags, classic stilettos

Most of her outfits has whites, greys, beiges, deep blues and blacks. So her palette was mostly neutral.

She had overall, a well-fitted, formal wardrobe, that was also very feminine. Her outfits always channel the 'ready for a war or a romantic confession from the president' energy. Very composed and powerful as well. She's definitely my formal outfit holy grail.

Her hair always down, sleek with some curls usually. No crazy hairstyles except for her bangs in the flashback scenes/episodes and she'd at the most tie her hair up in a ponytail every now and then.

BOOKS FROM OLIVIA'S SHELF

48 laws of power- Robert Greene, The Art of War- Sun Tzu, Becoming- Michelle Obama (in some alternate universe where Obama is president), The Great Gatsby- F. Scott Fitzgerald

TV/MOVIES OLIVIA WOULD WATCH (besides the news)

House of Cards, Law & Order: SVU, Shark Tank, Succession, RHOA, Erin Brockovich, The Devil Wears Prada, Breakfast at Tiffany's, Casanova,

[epersonae]

The Cooking Project: an introduction

So I've posted quite a bit about my issues with executive dysfunction around cooking, which started the summer before Ryn died and have lingered since then. I've tried a few things to break through it, with limited success.

Then: I was talking to some friends recently and we got talking about "grandma recipes". (See also: @triflesandparsnips' work with soaps and lip balms etc.) In that conversation, I realized again both that I have a lot of cooking knowledge, actually, and that I have my own little collection of that sort of recipes.

I've watched food tv since long before food network existed, and I love figuring out and understanding how cooking works. And I have both a stack of index cards accrued over the years, and an actual binder of print-outs and magazine clippings etc etc, some of which date back almost 30 years at this point.

And then I looked at those cards, and OMG, there's so many that aren't quite complete recipes, including a few that don't even say what they are, plus a few that I've never made. The binder, too, is a mix of things I used to make all the time, and some that were purely aspirational.

wait, what are you doing?

So I'm trying this thing where I make something from my collection, and make some notes about it. (Yeah, I'm doing ye olde food blogging, what of it.) The idea is to get back into regular cooking not as self-care or maintenance or overhauling my daily life or whatever, but by exploring an old special interest, and enjoying the play of it.

the first recipe: key lime pie from tumblr

At the suggestion of one of these friends, I started with a recipe that I found here on Tumblr, at some point I don't remember when, that I've never made: key lime pie. (Apologies for no link, but I literally have no idea what post it was or even when I wrote it down.)

Recipe text, transcribed:

12 oz can sweetened cond. milk 3 egg yolks 1/2 c key lime juice

mix until smooth heat oven to 350F, prebake graham cracker crust for 15 min pour in filling, bake 15 min cool 30 min on counter, then in fridge for 4hrs - overnight

Notes:

sweetened condensed milk only comes in 14oz cans now. I did some math, and increased the lime juice by one tablespoon.

the recipe as I wrote it didn't say what size pie crust. I bought a 9" and I think an 8" would have been a better choice. the ratio of crust to filling was off and the outer edge was frankly silly looking.

I have, in the past, made graham cracker crust from scratch. it's pretty easy, but also premade pie crust, sure why not.

the prebaking was definitely too long, and it ended up tasting a little burnt. I'd do more like 10 minutes max next time.

I started preheating the oven before I mixed the ingredients, because I know how long it takes my oven to preheat.

if I had the experience, I think I would have made a meringue with the egg whites. maybe next time I'll try it.

I added the info about increasing lime juice, the crust size, and baking timing to my card for future reference.

Final thoughts

I would make it again! The filling was tart and creamy, a nice contrast to the crust, and I've always loved key lime pie. Very easy, tasty, and I've added the key parts of my notes to the back of the card.

Update, a couple of weeks later: ended up freezing two slices, will see if they're good unfrozen. (I have a soft spot for terrible frozen key lime pie slices.)

[brooklynislandgirl]

Formless ghosts of darker empathy and she shakes her head. "I'm not…I'm not someone who needs or wants… if ya feel ya goddah do somet'ing, mebbe make one donation. Animal hospital, women an' children shelter, reading program…somet'ing li'dat. If ya like my oils den I would considah makin' 'em for you an' ya friends f' continued good deeds." Anyone could pick up a Forbes magazine and find her name listed only below a handful of people, including her auntie and the Admiral. She contributes more than most people make in ten years toward charitable and artistic endeavours while still trying to lead as quiet a personal life as she can. She takes the business card that is offered and slips it inside of her purse. Beth will eventually file it away where appropriate in the little binder she keeps for such things after her therapist said she needed to become more organised. Beth notes the change in the woman's demeanour. She recognises that brief glimpse of sorrow though she doesn't really know what the root cause might be. She also doesn't feel it's her place to pry any more than she'd allow Rockelle to ask her questions about her brother, about any of the other people or things that break Beth's heart on a regular basis. It's Beth's turn to scrunch her nose when Rockelle mentions her father's tactics in correcting her behaviour when she was younger. Something about her saying she agrees with it doesn't sit well with Beth but then maybe Rockelle's dad was not the same kind of monster that Beth grew up with. The Admiral's shadow still thrusts her in the dark whenever it falls over her and there isn't a moment's peace when they are so much as in the same city. Fortunately the old man tends to stay in DC for the most part, his visits to the City few and far between. Beth can't help but blush a little deeper and looks away when Rockelle compliments her pidgin. It isn't as thick as when she first arrived on the mainland and extensive practice of diction when she's around people she doesn't know well has taken most of the dialect's teeth. Beth lets the comment about her family slip passed unaddressed. Things tend to be more complicated than she can explain where her cousins are concerned, and how in their opinion Beth is merely a thing to be tolerated. Any straying from their convictions could make short work of her life. She instead follows the gesture toward the billboard, and then she turns her head to try to catch the music. "Oh. Wow. Uhm, I'm sorry den dat I…didn't realise but on da oddah hand, mebbe you can say your disguise is a success." It's nice to know she's just as awkward with other women as she is with men. "Sure. If…if dat's not like gonna take up your time. I don' really…"

Beth doesn't really know how to make new friends.

Seeing as Beth wasnt used to having gifts declined, her nose scrunched. She felt bad for declining it after the face so she let out a soft sigh. "Tell you what, how about I give you the money for the value of the perfume? I would love to have it but I feel bad with not compensating for your craft! Or may I offer you a postion as a professional perfume maker for myself and my dancers!" She continues, shuffling through her purse and handed her a business card.

"Sadly...Its the same in Korea as well. Some of the sweetest people you would ever meet but many take advantage. I wish people didnt take kindness for weakness." Her tone was hard to place, sad and full of angst but it was clear she needed to hear that herself. Her attention was turned back on Beths words, her nose scrunches, nodding.

"My life is exciting, I cant complain! I agree, people stare since they dont want to approach. I guess everyone wasnt taught the same. My dad would always tap the back of my head when I stare at people growing up, some people need that." She jokes with a chuckle. Her eyes widen a bit as she changes her tone for a moment to explain. "No no its okay! I apologize! Im not knowledgeable about certain dialects, I love the exposure! Dont change your sound, I love the flow of your voice, its like a beautiful song with notes that follow behind you as you speak!" She reassures, nodding a bit.

"They would love to see you!" She chirps, smiling happily at her. When she assures her suspision of not knowing her, she points to a nearby billboard which showed herself holding a mic with sparkles, advertising her concert coming into town. "And if you listen to the song playing in the store, thats me! Im undercover so many people havent figured its me quite yet...I love my fans but peace never hurt anyone ever now and again." A soft sigh left her lips.

With the conversation, coming to an end, she tilts head then thinks for a moment. "If you like, we can both stop for a coffee for a bit. I would love to keep talking with you, you have been so sweet."

[littlewitchygreen]

Closeted Witch Tips

Unfortunately it is true for many of us that we can’t practice openly for whatever reason. If you are still in the broom closet, here is a collection of tips that either I have used myself before I was more open about my practice or that friends of mine have used successfully. Included are tips about hiding supplies, keeping grimoires or Books of Shadows private, and actively practicing discretely.

Supplies

Supplies can often be hidden as other things, so long as they are explained away as something else. If they can’t be, then there are ways to either hide them in plain sight or do without them altogether until it is safer to have them.

Candles In some cases, people can pass off candles as just liking the smell or thinking they’re cool. In many cases, most people won’t look at candles and think ‘witchcraft’ first. However, if you can’t openly keep candles, then using birthday candles is a good alternative, since they come in a variety of colors and are small and easily hidden in drawers or mint tins, and don’t have much of a smell when they burn. If you can’t burn candles either without being caught, then electric candles can also work in a pinch and also tend to be on the smaller side, making them easier to hide as well.

Plants If you can pass off keeping plants as just an interest in gardening or liking them, then great! If keeping live plants isn’t an option though, feel free to turn to your surroundings and use what is there by gathering it yourself (though please don’t eat or burn anything if you aren’t completely certain about what it is!). If even this isn’t an option for you, then I suggest turning to the grocery store for help. The spice isle can be a witch’s best friend, as can the tea section (loose or bagged, since you can cut the bags if you need to) - just check the ingredients list to make sure you know it is only made of the plant you are wanting and you can find everything from sage to cinnamon to bay leaves in it, all while passing it off as an interest in food or cooking.

Crystals If you can, try to pass them off as just something you find ‘cool’ or ‘pretty’ - and if you are worried about them being too obvious clumped together in your space, then spread them out decoratively or hide some of them away while keeping the less obvious ones out. If not, then try to get really small ones that you can hide away in something like a mint tin, like the candles. If you can’t do that, then unfortunately this is one of the things that are harder to hide than others, and there isn’t much else to do.

Tarot If you have a good hiding place, then you can keep your tarot cards there. However, if you can’t and want to use specifically tarot cards, then I would suggest a digital app if you are worried about your cards being found. If even this isn’t possible, then there are ways to use regular playing cards in place of tarot cards - and then you can pass it off as just a game for when friends come over.

Chalices If you use cups in your practice, you can try to find a cup that you can pass off as a drinking cup you keep in your room (or wherever you are practicing). If this isn’t possible, then even something as small as a thimble can work - and it has the added benefit of being small enough to tuck away in other kinds of containers.

Knives If you have an athame or a knife you use in your practice, this is a harder one to explain away, so options are more limited. However, if you are able to keep a butter knife in your room, you can use that and claim you accidentally brought it with you when having a snack. If you want to use a plastic to-go knife, you can claim it was an extra from going out to eat and you forgot to take it out of your room. You can even use a needle, since you can hide it away or use it in a bulletin board, or your own fingers if that is still too much.

Pendulums In a lot of cases, pendulums can be passed off as necklaces or jewelry. If that isn’t the case for you though, and you can’t hide one, then I suggest making your own. I’ve heard stories of people using everything from ordinary necklaces that they own to fruit slices hanging from string or strands of their own hair that they take apart afterward. So long as it is free to move and somewhat weighted, anything can become a pendulum, so feel free to get creative.

Grimoires and Books of Shadows

This is arguably one of the things witches care about keeping hidden most. It is often the place where the most incriminating things are written, and can be both very private and difficult to hide from nosy family and friends.

Digital Digital copies are probably the easiest to hide, and has the added benefit of being difficult to destroy if that is a concern. There is no physical copy, and if you name it something else then it can be hard to notice anything being weird about it from an outside perspective. I’ve seen people use Google Docs for it, unpublished Wattpad stories, and even free vault apps with passwords disguised to look and even function like calculators. This keeps the danger of a physical copy out of the equation entirely.

Disguised For people who want a physical copy but have nosy people in their life, disguising your copies could work too. If you take the jacket off of a hardcover book and tape it onto your grimoire or BoS, then it will be disguised as that book. You can also keep it in a binder labelled for a class, too, or anything else that comes to mind that makes it look like something else.

Displaced If you have a place outside of where you practice where you can keep your book and trust is safe for you and it, then you can keep a physical copy there instead. This takes it out of your home entirely, but has the disadvantage of making it potentially harder to access or having someone else come across what is inside.

Active Practice

Active practice is one of the harder things to do discretely, as it is harder to explain away if caught. However, there are ways to do it, and here’s a few tips that I’ve seen work before.

Altars For anyone who uses altars in their practice, this can be a harder one to hide, depending on what you want to have. If you can pass off an altar as a shelf full of decoration, that is possibly the easiest option. If not, you can try tucking it away inside a drawer or keeping the materials in a shoebox that you set up each time you need it. If even that isn’t enough, you can either make a more permanent version of a travel altar (there are a lot of examples on the internet, and even here on Tumblr if you need ideas), or have a drawing of one that you use in place of one with physical objects. A digital one is also possible - a lot of closeted witches use games like the Sims or Animal Crossing to build a digital altar, if that is what works for you.

Magic Performing magic either through rituals or spells can also be hard to do. If you have your own room, doing spellwork or rituals after everyone else has gone to sleep can work well, as there is little to no danger of someone walking in on you. If you share a room or don’t have much privacy in your room, then you will have to learn when people will be around and find times to practice based on that. If you can, try to let people know you are busy with school, or a project, etc and to avoid disturbing you for a certain amount of time. If this won’t work either, then you may have to take your practice outdoors if possible. If none of the above is possible, then you may have to practice without materials, and work magic and do rituals with only your will and energy to fuel it - which is possible to do.

I hope these tips are of use to some witches, and if anyone has other suggestions to add, please feel free to do so! I did my best to cover everything I could think of, but if there is anything I missed here, feel free to ask and I will see if I can help find an answer. As always, best wishes.

[zenithpng]

TRUST FALL “Do you trust me?” | taken hostage | pushed

[It’s not that Sokka’s shy about his tics. Unless someone needs silence or there’s an inappropriate word thrown in, he sees no reason to stifle himself. He can’t control them after all, and it’s not like he’s doing anything wrong.

But this was supposed to be a good day, undisturbed by anything that came out of his mouth or happened with his body.

Luckily, Zuko is there to help bear the load, and, strangely enough, so is Azula.]

Read more under the cut, AO3 link ->HERE<-

Sokka loves shopping. No doubt about it. There’s just something about the bustle, the running back and forth, the decisions and the excitement of getting something new that never fails to put a smile on his face. So when Zuko grumbles that he needs to go shopping for some spring and summer clothes, Sokka immediately offers to go with him, having been needing to do the same thing anyway.

They set a date and a time, plan which stores they’re going to so Zuko knows what to anticipate, even coordinate their outfits, for Tui and La’s sake. (Okay, the last one is all Sokka’s idea, but there’s nothing wrong with being well-dressed with your friend and Zuko humours him gladly.)

But there’s something. There’s always something.

This something comes under the name of midterms.

The end of March is always horrendous, and really, Sokka should have known better than to plan something smack in between all the stress. But it’s fine , it’s really fine. He can take a day off from the calculus study guides (spirits, why did he have to take that in the tenth grade) and the engineering workshops because this is Zuko he’s meeting up with!

He likes Zuko, loves Zuko. If anything, this is the absolute best way to relieve his stress.

And so he’s outside the mall at one in the afternoon, foot tapping as he waits for Zuko. Soon he sees the familiar figure strolling up, giving a little wave and a shy smile.

And it’s normal to just not want to tear your eyes away from your friend that just happens to be very pretty, right?

Because Zuko is, in fact, very pretty. Straight black jeans, a red button up with - hang on, are those dragons? - left half-open over a white binder that looks like a regular tank top to anyone who doesn’t know, hair up in a ponytail with loose strands falling out and framing his face.

And Sokka could keep going. Could talk about the belt chain with sun and moon charms, could talk about the matte black on Zuko’s fingernails, could talk about the theatre mask necklace he’s wearing. Because there’s just so much and Zuko- Zuko looks so nice.

God, Sokka must be grinning like a fool by the time Zuko’s finally within arms reach, and he immediately pulls the taller boy into a hug. Zuko lets out a breathy laugh, returning the embrace.

“Someone’s excited to see me.” Sokka shakes his head, the smile never leaving his face.

“Nope, just for the shopping,” he jokes. “Race you the rest of the way, onetwothreego!” And he takes off, dashing towards the front of the mall, laughing when he hears a yell of “Sokka-a!” from behind him.

By the time he stops, Zuko is right behind him, both boys breathing hard and shoving at each other.

“You’re terrible,” Zuko grumbles. “You know I can’t keep up with you.”

“Sounds like a you problem,” Sokka says, spinning on his heel and marching into the entrance, looking over his shoulder to make sure Zuko’s following, not that he really doubted it anyway.

*****

They’re only two stores into their browsing when Sokka snaps his fingers, slapping the nearest clothes rack. He hisses, having hit a sharp corner, and shakes his hand out. Zuko peers over from the other side, expression tinged with the slightest bit of worry.

“Everything okay?” he asks. Sokka nods, wincing.

“Gotta be careful where I hit, I guess.” And Zuko just nods, going back to his searching.

That’s the nice thing about being with Zuko. He never presses like Katara does, or answers to tics like Aang. Unless Sokka somehow manages to hurt himself or is visibly upset, he leaves things alone. It’s refreshing, being around someone that doesn’t pay any more attention to his tics than the laces on his shoes.

Sokka slides over yet another shirt when he sees one Zuko might like. It’s black with red seams and fire embroidered at the bottom and on the sleeves. He calls Zuko around to take a look.

And that’s when everything starts going wrong.

As Zuko’s stepping around the rack, Sokka’s knees buckle, hitting against the carpeted floor painfully as he fails to catch himself on anything. Zuko’s eyes go a bit wider, and he’s on the floor in a split second right beside him.

“Was that a tic?” he asks, taking Sokka’s hands to help him back up. The younger grimaces as his legs straighten painfully and he nods.

“I think so,” Sokka says. “Never happened before.”

“And you’re sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. Probably just a one time thing.”

And Zuko nods, looking over the shirt he’s handed, dropping the subject.

*****

It’s not a one time thing.

Sokka’s knees keep hitting the floor or coming close, Zuko lunging to try and catch him or at least slow his fall each time. And it seems like each time there are more tics in between the drops, and they’re coming more frequently and his eyes are burning and-

Great, he’s crying. He’s sitting on the floor of an JCPenny, crying and unable to stem the flow of sounds and words and, oh, gods, he just hit Zuko, Spirits-

Zuko’s trying to get him to breathe, looking like he’s on the verge of tears himself.

"Hey, hey," he tries, ignoring any weird stares they're getting. Sokka's hand flies up to hit at his own head, and Zuko brings it right back down, not restraining but simply letting his own hands be an obstacle. "I'm gonna- I'm gonna call my uncle, or your dad? If that's better?"

And Sokka tries to answer, he really does, but between his gasping breaths and the words and trills it's just impossible and he feels so useless-

But Zuko- Zuko is a godsend because he just pulls him in close, hushing him gently, one hand carding through his loose hair.

"I'm gonna call my uncle," he says, "And then if it's okay with you, I'll use your phone to call your dad." Sokka nods, biting his lips to stifle a bubbling-up tic. Vaguely, he feels Zuko shuffling around, hears him talking to Iroh and then his dad, but it's all far away.

Quiet noises still fall from his lips, but he's too exhausted for all his physical tics, and it's the worst feeling ever. His brain is screaming for him to jerk his head, to hit the floor, something, but his body feels like it weighs ten thousand pounds and he just can't. Zuko's hand trailing up and down his back provides some comfort, but it's still just so terrible and he hates it so much.

"Think you can stand?" Zuko asks softly. And Sokka knows good and well that the answer is no, but he nods anyway, only to come crashing back down, stopped only by Zuko's quick reflexes. Sokka nearly sobs again, but Zuko just pulls him up, lifting him like it's no problem. A protest bubbles up, but Zuko quickly brushes him off, saying he's had plenty of practice with Azula.

Sokka has no idea what that means, but saves his questions for when he doesn't feel like he's actively falling apart.

Before he knows it, he's in the back of Iroh's car, Zuko explaining in hushed tones. And when they pull up to the Jasmine Dragon, his dad is already there, pulling him upright and holding him as if he's a little kid. But maybe that's what he needs in the moment, and he lets himself be maneuvered into the passenger's seat and buckled in.

He's asleep before his dad even turns onto the main road, tired beyond belief.

Sure, it’s a sucky experience. No one wants to pass out because you’re so tired you can’t hold yourself up anymore.

But by the end of the day, Sokka’s all right. It’s a Friday, and he’s got on a hoodie two sizes too big and is laying in his bed, spamming Zuko with memes while the other boy replies in all caps to try and end the flow of images. But it’s all in good nature, and before long they’re video calling, stifling laughter in their pillows.

And by the next morning, it’s forgotten. That is, until he drops suddenly in the kitchen, the plate he was reaching for clattering to the floor with him. Bato glances over briefly, concerned, but goes back to getting ready for work, hovering a little closer than before.

Sokka makes it a point to stay seated for as much of the day as possible, going from the couch to the table to his desk in a never ending cycle. He knows he can’t keep this up for ever, but for now, it’s going to have to work. Instead of wallowing about it, he just tries to push through. No point in crying about something that will solve itself.

And for the most part, his dads and Katara are just fine, not really paying attention unless there’s a need for help. That is, until he tics on the stairs and hardly stops himself from falling the rest of the way down.

Hakoda looks up from where he’s typing at the kitchen counter, his face serious.

“You know you can’t keep going like this, right?” Sokka groans, shutting his eyes and laying his head back against a stair.

“Dad, it’s fine. It’ll go away eventually. I just have to tough it out.”

“And how are you going to go to school? How are you going to get to classes?” Hakoda shuts his computer, standing up and walking over to help Sokka up. They make it to the living room without incident, sitting down across from each other.

Hakoda looks like he’s trying to force words out of his mouth but can’t quite get them right. Finally, he speaks.

“You know it’s okay to ask for and accept help, right?” Sokka nods slowly, not sure where his dad is going with this. Hakoda takes a measured breath.

“Okay, okay. Good.” He swallows hard and continues, “How would you feel if Bato picked up something to help you out on his way home?” And Sokka’s got no idea what his dad might be talking about, but he shrugs anyway. It’s his dad after all. Hakoda only wants the best for him.

“Sure,” he says easily, and smiles. “I’d like that.”

*****

When Bato returns from work that day, he’s holding a long box. He mutters something about leaving it in Sokka’s room and disappears upstairs. Sokka doesn’t really pay it any mind. Bato isn’t someone who’s huge on talking like Dad is. He likes to sit back, give the problem at hand a nudge in the right direction, and watch it resolve itself.

And so when Sokka goes upstairs, he’s not really sure what to expect. He just pulls the keys from his bookbag and slices through the tape on the package, not really paying attention.

But when he finally gets the box open, he freezes. Then, he unfreezes, curses himself for not seeing this coming, and runs an agitated hand through his hair. It’s a cane.

A very cool cane, with metallic blue waves racing up the length of it, but still. That’s… not something he expected.

Sokka takes a deep breath, trying not to get weird about this. Plenty of people use canes. Hell, Toph uses a cane to get around, and they’re one of the toughest people Sokka knows. He’s not doing it for attention or to look cool or something. This is something that will make his life easier for however long it takes this tic to go away.

That doesn’t make this any less difficult though.

(Toph uses a cane because they’re blind. Sokka’s gonna use one because his brain won’t stop screwing him over.)

But Sokka’s nothing if not resilient, and he figures if he’s gonna do this, he’s not going to feel embarrassed about it. So he gets up, supporting some of his weight on the cane. He tics almost immediately, but hey, he doesn’t fall to the floor again. Pacing back and forth across his room for a bit gets him used to the pattern, gets him used to catching himself when his body tries to drop.

It’s fine, he’s gonna be fine. Sure he’s gonna get weird stares at school, but that already happens.

But still, it couldn’t hurt to drop by the Jasmine Dragon, right? Not that he’s nervous, no, of course not. It’s just that Iroh gives such nice advice and Zuko’s smile always makes his day so much better. Really there’s no reason he shouldn’t go to the Jasmine Dragon.

Sokka picks up his phone.

socks - 18:17

Hey do you mind if i stop by tomorrow

Zuko - 18:21

It’s a tea shop, Sokka. We can’t exactly control who comes and goes.

socks

no i mean like to talk

Zuko

We do that every time anyway.

Sokka sighs. Right. He needs to actually explain himself. Zuko’s not the greatest at picking up on stuff like that.

socks

I have some stuff I want to sit down and talk to your uncle about if that’s okay

And maybe talk to you too ;))

Zuko

Oh, yeah. That’s fine. Sundays usually are slow anyway.

socks

Sounds good, cya tomorrow

Sokka places his phone onto his nightstand, switching it to Do Not Disturb. He is going to get some rest, talk to Uncle Iroh, and everything will be okay.

*****

Walking to the Jasmine Dragon with his new cane is awkward. He’s still not quite used to it, and he logically knows that there’s no one giving him dirty looks from across the street. But that doesn’t stop him from turning his head over his shoulder and checking every so often, just to make sure.

To Zuko’s credit, he hardly reacts to the new, ah, accessory when Sokka pushes open the door. His face lights up in a smile when he sees him come through the doorway, and though his eyes flicker exactly once to the cane, his smile doesn’t falter and he punches in Sokka’s order the same as always.

“Uncle’s in the back, we were running low on the rose tea so he’s brewing some right now,” Zuko explains when Sokka’s peach boba tea is ready. He tugs a straw from the box on the counter, handing it to him. “He should be out in just a minute, I told him you were out here.”

True to his word, Iroh shuffles out a few minutes later, and Sokka pauses his scrolling through his phone to smile up at the man.

“Good morning, Sokka,” Iroh greets cordially, setting down his own cup of tea. He blows at it lightly before stirring in a bit of honey. Light brown eyes, dimmed with age but no somehow no less sharp than Azula’s, smile at him.

“My nephew mentioned you wanted to speak to me.” He takes a sip of his tea, nodding in silent satisfaction before looking back up at Sokka. “What troubles you, child?”

Sokka sighs, popping a piece of boba in his mouth before reaching down, lifting the top of his cane over the top of the table. Iroh furrows his brow, nodding slowly.

There’s a slam from inside the kitchen of what sounds like an oven door. Sokka startles slightly, though Iroh hardly reacts at all. It must be Azula baking again. Both turn back to their conversation with not a word about the noise.

“Zuko has told me of your… tics, are they called?” Sokka nods, and Iroh continues. “If this assists you in your day-to-day life, there is nothing to be ashamed of! There is never shame in accepting help, whatever form it may come in. A bird will build its nest of leaves or wool, provided it is soft.”

Sokka bites the inside of his cheek, nodding. It’s nothing he hasn’t heard before, from his father before bed last night, from Bato earlier this morning, from himself on his walk over. It’s good advice, accompanied by the warmth of the tea shop and Iroh’s signature proverbs. But it’s nothing special, really.

Iroh seems to notice, and Sokka feels a bit bad. But the older man doesn’t seem to mind, simply patting Sokka’s hand with a smile.

“I think perhaps I am not the best to assist you right now,” he says, standing and taking his tea cup. “Just a moment.”

He stands making his way back into the kitchen. There’s grumbling from inside before the door swings open again, Azula marching out.

She yanks the chair from under the table and sits unceremoniously, her face flat. She’s sharp where Iroh is soft, but there’s no real boredom or anger in her expression. She sticks out a hand.

“Let me see.”

Sokka passes the cane across the table awkwardly, making sure not to hit anything. She examines it with that sharp gold gaze, nodding in approval.

“Study,” she finally says, which is probably the closest thing to a compliment Sokka’s ever heard her give. “Doesn’t look too bad either, I suppose. Not that looks are the purpose here.” She hands it back, narrowly missing the straw of Sokka’s cup of boba. He’s still not quite sure why Iroh sent her out to sit with him, but he doesn’t really mind. Like Zuko, she’s someone that doesn’t change character because of a situation.

“It looks nicer than my old crutches at least,” Azula says, almost casually. “Those were such an ugly shade of green, I don’t know why Uncle bought them.” And she’s so offhand about it all that Sokka almost misses the meaning of her words.

“Wait, what?” he blurts before he can stop himself. Azula? Who’s always an almost royal air about her? That could probably have him on the ground in two seconds flat? That Azula?

She must have been expecting his reaction (of course she did, it’s Azula), and she simply crosses her legs, resting one arm on the table.

“I used to have so many issues when we first moved in with Uncle,” she begins, her tone still as if she’s speaking about the weather. “I screwed up my body for a while, didn’t eat and threw up what I did.” Sokka tries to imagine Azula as anyone other than the confident person he knows and comes up short.

“It was a series of unfortunate events, really. A weak body meant weak bones, apparently, and a jump I tried to make ended up shattering both my legs. Had to be in a wheelchair for a while, then use those forearm crutches for longer than I would have liked to. But it was fine, I suppose.”

Sokka bites his lip. They both know the question on his mind, and they both know Azula won’t give him the answer until he asks. Finally, he takes a deep breath and goes for it.

“How’d you- you know. Stop worrying that you looked… stupid?” Azula rolls her eyes, though there’s the slightest bit of an upward turn to her mouth.

“Well, anyone who’s opinion mattered to me didn’t care. Do you know how annoying Zuzu was for those months? It was always, ‘Zula, let me carry that, Zula, let me pick that up.’” Sokka nods. He knows the feeling all too well. Azula sighs, casting a glance at Zuko, who’s taking some customer’s order.

“But, as grating as it was, it was because he cares. And anyone who said anything bad, I could hit them with my crutch. I mean really, who’s going to admit they got beat up by a five-foot-one girl with crutches?”

And yeah, okay, that gets a laugh out of him. The image of Azula whacking a rude customer or classmate with what is essentially a large stick is one that he can conjure up easily.

Azula turns fully towards him, her expression shifting minutely.

“Do you trust me?”

Sokka freezes for a moment. Azula and he aren’t close, not like he is with Zuko. But if he thinks, there’s really no reason not to trust Azula. She’s straight forward and doesn’t beat around the bush. And so, Sokka nods.

Azula seems pleased.

“Then trust me when I say there’s going to be hardly anyone paying attention.”

And somehow, despite all the people telling him similar things, it’s Azula that finally drives it home.

*****

The next day at school, Sokka jabs Aang under the table with his cane as the younger boy laughs. Katara’s next to them, trying and failing to hide her mirth, while Suki and Toph smother laughter into their hands. His phone chimes, and he flips it over to see the notification.

Zuko

Hope your day’s going okay. Azula’s trying out a new recipe by the way. She says she wants you to try it.

Sokka smiles, typing his response.

socks

Day’s going great, zukes :)) and i’ll be there, cya later!

[wickedobsessed101]

"Sewing It Up" Oneshot #2: Into The Gala

Villy hummed as she sifted through the dresses in her closet. She knew she should’ve planned her outfit for the charity gala ahead of time, but got caught up in custom orders in the shop.

“Mimsey?”

The dressmaker was so focused, she didn’t register the little girl’s presence until she felt a tap on her leg. “Yes, Honey?”

“Are you and Papa still going to the fancy event?”

“We are, if I can pick out something to wear.”

“And Elphie’s coming to play with me all night?”

“She should be here soon.”

“Can I help you get ready?” Nyris scrutinized her stepmother’s clothes, not waiting for an answer. “Wear this one.” She grabbed the skirt of a floor-length dress and pressed it into her hands. “It’s pretty.”

The seamstress examined the gown. Soft, crepe material, off-the-shoulder sleeves, ruched bodice, and a mermaid skirt. The braille color tag pinned to the sleeve identified it as wine, and she smiled with a nod. “Okay. Great choice, Nyris.”

“Thanks! Can I brush your hair?”

Villy nodded and grabbed her hairbrush before sitting on the edge of the bed. Nyris climbed up with a soft grunt and took the brush, gently running it through her wavy, copper hair.

“You can wear one of my tiaras, so you can be a pretty princess,” Nyris offered, bouncing behind her.

“Thank you, but I can’t be a princess tonight. It’s a non-princess party, so I can’t be the only princess in attendance. It wouldn't be fair to everyone else.”

“Oh. You’re right. That wouldn’t be fair. Perhaps next time.”

Nyris insisted on giving Villy’s hair one hundred brush strokes to ensure its shininess, but Villy stopped her at forty-three, claiming she was running out of time and thought her hair had sufficient shine.

“Elphie’s here!” Nyris squealed when the doorbell rang. She jumped off the bed and hurried out. Once she was alone, Villy took the time to braid her hair into an elegant crown braid and slipped into the dress.

“Almost ready, Dovey?”

She sprayed her face with the makeup setting spray. “Yes. I’ll trade your help: I’ll do your tie if you zip up the back of my dress.”

“I like that deal,” he chuckled, carefully doing the zipper, accepting his kiss of thanks.

“What color is your suit?” she asked as she tied his tie.

“Navy blue. My tie is black with small, white polka dots.”

Villy’s lips twitched. “Polka dots?”

“I almost wore the tie Nyris colored for Father’s Day.”

“I almost wore one of her princess tiaras.”

He took a clear bobby pin and pinned her final wisps of stray hair down. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” She ran her hands over his jacket, and not just to smooth out the wrinkles. “You look handsome.”

“Thanks. Elphaba’s downstairs, the car’s coming to pick us up in ten minutes.”

“And it’s driving us back?”

“Yes. The venue has an open bar, and I know everyone’s going to take advantage of that… myself included.”

The two went downstairs, where Nyris was trying to convince Elphaba that ice cream was, in fact, a suitable dinner option.

“Try not to tire Elphaba out already, Jellybean,” Villy chuckled, walking towards their voices and stopping at Elphaba’s side, giving her hand a light squeeze. “Thanks again for this favor, Elphaba. We really appreciate it.”

Elphaba smiled. “Of course, Miss Villy. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you. Our car will be here soon, and we should be back… probably early tomorrow morning. Nyris knows not to try and wait up for us.”

“I won’t let her climb the walls.”

The little girl snuggled next to the green girl. “Let’s play ‘Princesses and Ponies’!”

She turned back to her boss. “I’ll let you know if I’ll require a raise a work.”

Villy smirked, interrupted by a soft honk from outside.

“Time to go. Have fun, you two,” Geri said, lifting Nyris into his arms and kissing her cheek.

“Bye, Papa. Bye, Mimsey!” Nyris hummed, reaching for Villy.

The transfer of arms was flawless, and Villy gave her a squeeze. “Be gentle with Elphaba. We have a full week of orders coming up.”

The green girl made an indignant noise in the back of her throat.

Nyris giggled. “‘Kay, Mimsey!”

Villy returned her feet to the floor, grabbed her bag – filled with her business cards – fixing the strap over her shoulder, and cane, placing it in her bag as she headed out with Geri. The two settled in the large car, waving to Elphaba and Nyris as they drove away.

“Have you been to the gala before?” Villy asked.

“Once, with Taeal, before Nyris was born. I don’t remember most of it. There was a lot of standing and talking, and I think at least five people went home wearing someone else’s jackets.”

“Sounds like fun. Is it just the Tip Bank branches?”

“As well as Ozma Trust and First Emerald Bank branches. I might see some of my old colleagues.” He glanced at her. “Will you be alright?”

“Yes. You don’t have to worry.”

“Do I look worried?”

Villy gave him a look, but gave his arm a comforting squeeze. “I’ll be fine. This isn’t my first rodeo.”

“It’s a gala.”

She rolled her eyes. “Just accept the saying. You know I’ll tell you if I need anything.” She took his hands. “I’m excited to share this fancy night out with you. The first of many. It’s only fair, since I’ll be dragging you to multiple fashion shows. I’m prepared.”

“For?”

“Repeating my life story multiple times and debunking myths. If I can give away half my business card stack, I’ll be satisfied.” She straightened. “On that note, you need to promise me something.”

“Yes?”

“That you’ll let me advocate for myself and won’t jump to my defense every time someone says something insensitive. I know how to play the game, and I play it very well. Please.”

He nodded. “Of course, Dovey. You know I’ll always support whatever you need.”

“Tonight, I’m supporting you.”

Forty minutes later, they reached the venue. Thanking the driver, they climbed out of the car, and Geri offered his wife his elbow. She paused to straighten his tie before taking it and walking in with him. Geri showed the security guard their invitations, and they were directed to follow everyone else inside.

Upon entering, they were immediately accosted with a mixture of music and indistinct conversations. A look of uncertainty flashed across Villy’s face for a moment, but it was gone before Geri could comment on it.

“It’s a large ballroom.”

She nodded. “It’s very echoey.” Her gaze traveled upward. “Large chandelier?”

“Uh-huh. And lots of small lamps along the walls.”

She hummed, following him through the crowd of people, her grip on his arm gently tightening.

“Dovey –“

“As long as they don’t crowd around me, I’ll be fine,” she reassured him. “I promise. What hors d’œuvres do they have?”

“There’s crackers with various toppings: salmon, cream cheese, caviar...”

“Caviar sounds good.”

The couple made their rounds of taste tasting and small minglings. For the most part, no one made any comments on Villy’s visual impairment or how she did her job, which put Geri at ease more than his wife.

“Don’t get too comfortable. The flood's coming,” she warned.

“Oh. Oh.”

“What?”

“There’s an ice sculpture of Lurline. I wasn’t expecting this.”

“An ice sculpture? In summer?”

“Apparently. It manages to capture her long, flowing hair, folded wings, and sheath dress. She’s holding a long scepter and her other hand is stretched out in a calming gesture.”

“Gerium! It’s been too long!”

The banker turned and smiled. “Uiliu, it’s wonderful to see you again.”

Villy let go of his arm as he hugged whoever this acquaintance was.

“I hope they’re not too horrendible to you at Tip Bank.”

He laughed. “No. But they do think there are more than twenty-four hours in a day. Apparently, I’m so amazing, they think I can complete projects that normally take two weeks in two days. How’s Joanhn? Is he here?”

“He’s schmoozing with the CEO. He already made his rounds, collecting more potential clients, no doubt. He always does this. He collects business cards like they’re limited edition items. He has a binder full of them at home, always claiming to ‘know someone’ when we need a service and flip through the pages.”

He took his wife’s hand. “Uiliu, this is my wife, Villy. Villy, this is Uiliu Paraitez, a broker from First Emerald. I worked with both her and her husband.”

She gasped. “I had no idea you remarried. How long ago?”

“Three months.”

“Congratulations to both of you.”

“Thank you,” Villy smiled.

“What do you do, Mrs. Moxx?”

“I’m a seamstress. I own a dress shop, ‘Lilies and Lace’ on Overlained Street.”

“You own a shop?”

The well-hidden condescending tone was still obvious to the seamstress. “Yes.”

“Is it a franchise?”

“No, just a small business. It’s just me and my assistant, Elphaba, and we make all our clothes from scratch. Dresses, skirts, some blouses, and we also do custom orders and alterations.”

“How?”

“Um… sewing machines. Sometimes hand sewing, but the machines are faster.”

“No, I mean… you’re…”

She felt her husband move to defend her and dug her fingers into his arm, reminding him of his promise. “It’s a very tactile profession, and everything’s labeled and organized. The shop’s been successful for almost a decade. The Tarvey’s are regular customers, and I’ve also had Lady Longren buy a few dresses, as well as custom orders from the Governor of Munchkinland.” She felt a bit bad for flaunting that last one, giving Elphaba’s relationship with her family, but that was how to play the game.

She hummed. “Did you make the dress you’re wearing?”

“No. I rarely wear the clothes I make.”

“Except what you wore on our first date,” Gerium interjected softly.

“That was the exception to the rule.”

“It caught my eye.”

“Mine, too.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a business card. “It was wonderful to meet you, Mrs. Paraitez.”

She took the card. “You as well, Mrs. Moxx. Lovely to see you again, Gerium. I should probably go rescue the poor soul force to listen to one of Joanhn’s rants about priority investments.” She excused herself with a polite nod and hurried away.

“Are you hungry?”

Geri shrugged. “A bit. You?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. It’s a buffet, so we should find our table before getting food.” He led her across the room to the tables, searching the place cards for their names. “The place cards have the names in golden calligraphy. We’re over by the window.”

“Okay. Where’s the buffet?”

“There’s a lot of food, and it wraps along the walls. We’re near the desserts.”

She smirked. “Very convenient.”

“What are you in the mood for? Meat, fish, pasta, salad…”

“Um… fish.”

He led her over to the proper section, describing the variety and helping with her plate. Once they were both situated with their meal, they went back to the window table, and Geri glanced over at the other place cards.

“Silaen’s sitting with us.”

Villy brightened. “I didn’t know she would be here.”

“I’m the main event, so the party doesn’t start ‘til I take the first sip of alcohol.”

Villy resisted an eye roll as she and Geri turned towards their friend. “Have you improved since our college days?”

“I don’t think so, but I hired a driver for tonight, so does it really matter?”

“I’m not peeling you off the floor.”

“You’ll be peeling me off the ceiling if I get my way.” Silaen smiled as she looked the couple over. “You two look lovely. Did Villy dress you, Geri?”

“I can pick out my own clothes,” the banker huffed.

“He did, all by himself, except for his tie. Did you bring a plus-one?”

“I planned to, but unfortunately, Krescia had to work late at the hotel.”

Villy had heard very little of her friend’s girlfriend, and had been looking forward to meeting her.

“Don’t worry. I’ll use up most of my time mingling and trying to avoid upper management. They look like they’ve hit the open bar already.” Silaen excused herself to get some food, returning with multiple questions and shop inquiries. “Have you seen the silent auction items yet?” she asked as they finished and a passing server took their plates.

Villy shook her head. “Not yet. Are you gonna –“

“Geri, a bunch of us are going in the side room for a card game. Care to join us?” a fast voice asked from behind them.

The banker perked up slightly.

“Go, Geri,” the seamstress encouraged, giving his arm a nudge. “I’ll go to the auction table with Silaen.”

“I’ll make sure we don’t empty your bank account,” Silaen smirked, standing with her friend and linking their arms.

The couple parted ways, and Silaen and Villy went over to the table. Villy was the tamer one of the two, making sure Silaen didn’t touch the pens… or her checkbook. They got in a bit more networking, which soon turned into an hour of talking and business card exchanging.

When Geri returned, he found the two women coming away from the bar, both with small glasses of a bright red liquid.

“How much damage did you two do?” he chuckled, kissing his wife’s cheek.

“Money or alcohol?” Villy asked innocently.

“I felt like I should say ‘both’…”

Silaen shrugged. “Then the answer to ‘both’ is ‘not much’. Villy stole –“

“Protected,” the seamstress interjected.

“My checkbook, and this is only our third drink.”

“Third? In one hour?”

“Open bar, designated drivers. Need I say more?”

Geri rolled his eyes, his face softening as Villy looped her arms around his, finishing off her glass. “Dance with me,” he growled hungrily in her ear, taking the empty glass and handing it to a passing server.

She nodded eagerly, returning the checkbook to its proper owner, and headed to the dance floor with her husband. Slowly, the indistinct voices gave way to the music, which transported the couple to a world of their own. Villy relaxed and snuggled closer, enjoying feeling his strong arm around her waist and gentle hand on her shoulder. As the song ended, she wrapped her around his neck and pulled him into a gentle kiss.

“People are staring,” he whispered against her lips.

“There are other couples here.”

“None that are snogging on the dance floor.”

“Snogging?” She made a face. “That makes it sound like we’re teenagers caught on prom night.”

Before he could continue, he heard his old co-workers calling him and led his wife over. The couple spent the next two and a half hours making more rounds. Geri mostly threw names, titles, and occasional side stories at his wife, who did her best to juggle them, and the echoey atmosphere still wasn’t her friend.

“Geri,” she whispered after their most recent subject excused themselves to the dessert cart.

“Yes?”

“I need a quiet break.”

He noted her strained tone and expression. “Alright. There are small, private lounges in the back.” He led her through the crowd into the hallway, turning two corners before opening a door and leading her inside. “Are you alright?” he asked as they sat on the couch.

“I… headache. I have medicine in my bag, and I should have asked before we left…” She sighed. “Could you get me some water, please?”

“Of course.” When he returned with the water, Villy was squeezing her eyes shut, and squeezing the pillow in her arms even tighter. “Here, Dovey.”

She relaxed when he pressed the cold glass into her hands. “Thanks.” She fished the small bottle from her bag and popped two tablets into her mouth, chasing them down with three big gulps of water.

The banker wordlessly pulled his wife into his arms and kissed her forehead. He was about to ask if she wants to leave, but decided against it. He knew she’d tell him what she wanted.

“The lights,” she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder. “That’s what was causing the headache. I held out for as long as I could, but it was becoming unbearable.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I was handing out twenty business cards, booking five appointments… I was on a roll. I didn’t wanna break my streak.”

“Are you having fun?”

She nodded. “I am. I do like social events like this. The overall atmosphere could be more ideal, but overall, I’m glad I’m here with you.”

“I am, too. Are you feeling better?”

“Getting there.”

“Let me know when you’re ready to head back.”

She nodded, staying in his arms for a few more moments, relaxing deeper into his embrace as the throbbing pain ebbed. “How do you think Elphaba and Nyris are faring?”

“‘Princesses and Ponies’ is an intense game that requires a lot of stamina. I don’t know how much of a workout you get at the shop, but it requires a lot of strength on the bigger person’s part.”

“Will I still have an assistant tomorrow?”

“She might be sore, bruised, and might not want to talk to either of us for the rest of her life, but she’ll be alive.”

“Good enough for me,” Villy smiled, and they lapsed into silence, only broken when Villy announced she wanted more chocolate cake.

By the time they returned to the ballroom, they were announcing the winners of the silent auction. Once they got their cake and returned to their table with Silaen, and politely applauded with the room as the winners were announced.

It was just past midnight when everyone started to disperse. The couple (not as drunk as they thought they’d be), found their car and relaxed for the ride home.

“I had a wonderful time,” she smiled, kissing his cheek.

“I’m glad you came with me.” He brushed stray whisps of hair, that had managed to free themselves from her braid, out of her face. “Have I told you I love this color on you?” He kissed her neck. “And this ravishing dress…”

“It was 70% off,” she reported proudly.

He lowered his voice. “I’d prefer it 100% off.”

“The store can’t be giving away free clothes.”

He blinked. “That’s not what I –“

“That’s a horrendible way to run a business, Geri,” she frowned. “If I did that, I’d run the shop straight into the ground.”

He wondered if the alcohol had made her thick, but when her frown gave way to a playful smirk, he rolled his eyes. “You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

“I’m hilarious. Didn’t you marry me for my humor?”

“I married you to save money on shirt buttons.”

“I married you to get a higher interest rate on my savings account. And for you to introduce me to new, potential customers.”

“You were getting very friendly with the CEO.”

“Rich wives may be pushy and ambitiously demanding, but they’re the best tippers.” Villy chuckled. “I have my eyes set on one man, anyway.”

By the time they returned home, they could barely keep their eyes open. They thanked and tipped the driver, and headed inside, Villy immediately inquiring if Elphaba was asleep on their sofa.

“She’s fast asleep. She left us a note.” He grabbed the folded paper with a scribbled ‘Miss Villy and Geri’ on the cover. “‘If you’re reading this rather than talking to me, that means Nyris wore me out. You didn’t warn me about ‘Princesses and Ponies’! At least she didn’t climb the walls, nor throw my back out. I accept tips in cups of coffee.'”

Villy chuckled softly. “I suppose she can spend the night, and we can spare a cup and invite her to breakfast in a few hours.”

~~~

Villy's Dress

[suzyundertale]

tumblr user suzyundertale makes a post about Suzy from Undertale

Suzy masterpost, because people need to pay more attention to Suzy. This is not a theory post, but more of a collection of information on what we currently know about the Undertale character Suzy. Of course, due to the nature of Suzy as a very mysterious character, there will be slight speculation, but hopefully it’s clear what is canon and what isn’t.

Section One: The Beginning

When Undertale first released, there was very little that we knew of the character “Suzy”. Even less than what we know now, which is impressive. The only connection we had to her was word of mouth from an NPC with no name, but known in the files simply as “clamgirl”, found in Waterfall if your “Fun” value is between 80 and 89.

When you first talk to her, she says the following:

* I'm visiting Waterfall from the city. * Synchronicity...? * My neighbor's daughter looks about your age. * Her name is "Suzy." * I feel like you two should be friends. * You have... * A neighbor's blessing!!!

(”Suzy” here is written in yellow text.)

Talking to her a second time:

* Not knowing where I live is no issue. * Fate finds a way.

And, finally, talking to her post-pacifist:

* So you never became friends with my neighbor's daughter. * Don't despair. * This world has infinite opportunities. * But there's a limit to the things you can do. * Accepting this is healthy. * Take my neighbor's blessing! * And consider this blessing for anything you like!

(She has more dialogue, but this is all that you really need to know.)

Section Two: The Patch

In January of 2016, a couple weeks after Toby made (and subsequently deleted) a tweet about he wanted to “start something else” in 2016, a something which we now know to be Deltarune, Undertale received its first major update - version 1.01.

Here’s the relevant information.

Toby made two very, very minor changes to Clamgirl’s post-pacifist dialogue. Here is the new dialogue, with changes bolded:

* So you never met my neighbor's daughter. * Don't despair. * This world has infinite opportunities. * But there's a limit to the things you can do today. * Accepting this is healthy. * Take my neighbor's blessing! * And consider this blessing for anything you like!

He changed “became friends with” to “met” - emphasizing the fact that Suzy is not a character you can meet in Undertale.

He also added the word “today”, to emphasize the fact that this does not mean Frisk will never be able to meet Suzy.

This wasn’t the only Suzy-related thing in the version 1.01 patch, however. The patch added a well-known line of dialogue to the lab behind Sans and Papyrus’ house. Normally, when you examine a certain drawer in the lab, you get this dialogue:

* (There's a photo album inside the drawer.) * (There are photos of Sans with a lot of people you don't recognize.) * (He looks happy.)

However, from version 1.01 onward, if you examine this drawer after having spoken to Clamgirl, you will get this dialogue instead:

* (There's a photo album inside the drawer.) * (There are photos of... Huh?) * (A card is sticking out from the back flap of the binder.) * (It's a poorly drawn picture of three smiling people.) * (Written on it...) * "don't forget."

Again, I’d like to emphasize that this dialogue only appears if you’ve spoken to Clamgirl, if you know who Suzy is. In this way, the phrase “Don’t forget” is intrinsically linked to Suzy.

So, from all of this, we can gather a few things about this mysterious “Suzy” character.

She is a girl around Frisk’s age.

She lives in the capital.

She has at least one parent (who happens to be Clamgirl’s neighbor.)

Frisk is, apparently, fated to meet her.

Despite this, it is impossible to meet Suzy in Undertale.

Sans’ photo album will have a card reading “don’t forget” only if you know who Suzy is.

Section Three: Fast Approaching

Did you think that was the only Undertale update that added cryptic Suzy-related dialogue?? Guess again!

Fast-forward to September 2018. Undertale has just been released on Nintendo Switch! Almost immediately, it is discovered that the Switch version added this:

(excuse me posting my own video, but it’s really the best one on youtube...(side note; i’m not sure if she’s actually supposed to reappear when you exit and re-enter the room, that might be a side effect of me poorly emulating the game))

Anyway, this is what happens post-pacifist in the Switch version if your fun value is exactly 81. If it’s 82-89, Clamgirl has her regular dialogue from v1.01.

The Switch version of Undertale came out September (15 in Japan, 18 everywhere else) 2018 - A month and a half before the release of Chapter 1 of Deltarune. In hindsight, it’s obviously foreshadowing - but when you think about it, foreshadowing what?

A month later, we play Deltarune, and meet a brand new character named Susie. Not Suzy. (More on that distinction in a bit.) If that’s the case, why did Clamgirl claim that we were going to meet Suzy very soon? 

Well, the answer is that we don’t know.

It’s important to consider what Clamgirl says from an in-universe standpoint. It’s easy to take this line as Clamgirl talking directly to us, the player, since she’s clearly hinting towards Deltarune - but in actuality, in the game, in-universe, she’s talking to Frisk. She’s telling Frisk that they’re going to meet Suzy very soon. It’s possible that, when it comes down to it, what Clamgirl said might not apply to us at all.

Section Four: Deltarune

In October 2018, Toby Fox not only released an entire demo for an entire new video game, but a video game with a major character named Susie. Not Suzy, but Susie???? What’s going on?

Since Deltarune seems to have an alternate universe thing going on, some people believe that Susie is simply the Deltarune universe’s version of Suzy. This is definitely a possibility, but there is also reason to believe that this may not be the case.

Deltarune also introduces a new character named Catti, who is Catty’s little sister. Like Suzy and Susie, their names are pronounced the same, but spelled slightly differently. This could be hinting at the difference between the two.

As it stands, however, we currently do not know the relation between Suzy and Susie, or if any even exists.

In any case, it is likely that Suzy will be a major part of the story of Deltarune, as the main theme of the game is called “Don’t Forget”.

Bonus: A Comment From Toby

To my knowledge, the only time that Toby has ever publicly spoken about Suzy is in this tweet, since deleted (not specifically, but because Toby wiped all his tweets before a certain date), from nine days after Undertale’s release:

Unfortunately, since we’ve lost the context, it’s difficult to know who exactly “yellow kid” refers to here. The tweet was most likely in response to speculation regarding Suzy’s identity. Since Suzy’s name is written in yellow when Clamgirl speaks about her, some people assumed that Suzy may be associated with the color yellow. “Yellow kid” could be referring to Monster Kid, Frisk, or the yellow human soul. (I’ve heard people say before that this tweet is specifically in response to people speculating about Monster Kid being Suzy, but I don’t know how true that is. If anyone has any proof of this claim, let me know!)

Conclusion

Generally, when you’re writing an analysis of a character, you’re able to say more than three facts about them. There is very little we can say about Suzy, however, without delving into pure baseless speculation. Hell, we know more about Gaster, who is generally regarded as the mysterious Undertale character.

It’s very likely that we will learn more about Suzy in the future, but right now, we don’t have much to go on. However, that also means we’re free to speculate pretty much anything we want. Essentially, until proven otherwise, Suzy is whoever you want her to be..! 

[namstruck]

SCHOOL CRUSH｜NAMKOOK

REQUESTED BY: kosmosisgguk (wattpad)

“where namjoon is a teacher and jungkook has a crush on him and confesses,”

WARNINGS; fluff!! non-idols! college au!

WORD COUNT: 1423

spring had just started last week, exactly on a tuesday, earlier than suspected by the citizens of busan. the slight wind from this morning's breath gently shook the neighboring tree from the building b, where jeon jeongguk's video/audio studies class was. and of course it was just another endless, boring day for the young male senior. although his classes were shorter than any lower classmen, he still dreaded them. calculus especially. it made him want to tear out his hair from frustration; it never really was his best subject.

but all in all, world literature was his favorite. not because of the history behind it or its variety of language, but because the young senior got to see his crush every school day in literature. his heart throbbed and grew warm and racy every time gguk looked or even walked by them. it was like a daydream. he never thought he'd find someone for him, especially in his college years. but of course love got the best of the young boy.

bing.

the final bell rings. gguk organizes his notes and sketches, shoving them inside his black backpack as he zips it and throws it over his left shoulder. walking out of the room, he holds onto the strap and hurriedly walks to his final class.

on his way he pauses to the sound of his name being called from a very familiar voice;

"ay yo jk!"

he turns his head around to face the owner of the voice; kim yugyeom. the tall, blonde sophomore waves at his senior along with a big smile. the younger always was so welcoming and charismatic that it was impossible not to love him.

"oh hey yugyeom, what's up?" jeongguk finally says.

when yugyeom catches up, he sighs, "you walk too fast.." he walks jeongguk's pace as he continues, "i was wondering if you'd wanna hang tonight with me and the others?" yugyeom scratches his nose as he waits for an answer from his senior.

jeongguk scrunches his eyebrows forming a funny look, "you couldn't have just texted me and asked??" they make a right turn from the long hallway and up some few stairs to building a.

"well as a friend i just wanted to see you!"

"we saw each other literally this morning.." the senior raises his left brow.

the younger rolls his eyes. it didn't matter when the last time they saw each other was; he just misses his close friend 24/7. "so you down or what?" yugyeom nudges jeongguk’s side, making him shrug.

"sure."

—

after the two went to their separate classrooms, the older arrives to his final and last class of the day; world literature. he walks in and just as jeongguk sits down in his seat, the late bell rings. taking out his binder and note pads, the senior adjusts his seat and settles down.

"good afternoon class,"

a tall, long legged man walks in the room, closing the door behind him. he then walks towards his desk, setting down his stuff and opening his notebook. he wore a green sweater vest on top of a white shirt and ironed khakis, a nice watch on his left wrist, and square rimmed glass on his slender, handsome face. this was the world literature professor; jeongguk's to be exact. and not only that, he was also jeongguk's..

"today's lesson will be based on greek mythology; the dark ages to be specific." the professor rolls down the projector behind him above the board. the students start one by one opening their notebooks and get ready for the lesson. jeongguk follows along, sighing at his view.

vrmm, vrmm

his phone vibrates, catching his attention immediately. he peeks at the screen and sees it was a message from his big brother that reads:

jinnie ☆

› so how's class going? is the view good, lol

jeongguk rolls his eyes in pure annoyance. but the messages keep coming.

jinnie ☆

› is today the day you tell him?

jinnie ☆

› confess your feelings bro! no homo ･̑◡･̑

jeongguk groans and rests his head on his desk followed by a bang. there wasn't a day where is older brother didn't nag about confessing his feelings to his crush ever since he found out. and of course the teasing never stops. why was he like this?

—

"hey jk, what’s with the flowers?"

yugyeom questions the said male as he admires the bouquet of lavenders, "such pretty flowers must be for someone special, huh?" the sophomore teases as he smirks, "you got a girl or what ehe.."

jeongguk shakes him off and ignores his childish remarks. he wasn't in the mood to fool around, all he wanted was to get it over with and done. if he was rejected then so be it, and if he wasn't then..

jeongguk walks in his last class of the day, the bouquet still in his hand. even though he got a few odd looks and some awes it didn't matter to him; not their reactions anyways. once he finds his regular seat, the senior places the flowers on the desk next to his as he takes out his notes. but before he can the professor interrupts;

"since we are nearing the end of class courses around this week, and since you all have worked hard and with motivation along with passion," he pauses as he pushes up his glasses, "i have decided to reward you with a few movies for the rest of the day.." he smiles as he finds everyone pleased. he walks back to his desk as he prepares to start the films.

jeongguk, on the other hand, prepared and practiced for what he planned to do all day long. so for the entire day he wrote small notes and steps in his journal. the whole time there wasn't a second he wasn't writing away, trying to figure out how not to screw up. he was so focused he hadn't realized how fast the time flew by, all he hoped for was for the best.

—

after a few hours or so the professor finishes up the films knowing the schedule very well, "also please don't forget to look at the blog tonight; there will be a few forms you will need to fill and print out!" just then the final bell rings and all of the students rush out. jeongguk follows behind, organizing his notes and stuff once more into his backpack. after swinging it over his shoulder, he walks down the elevated room and heads towards the door.

"ah, jeongguk!"

the said male pauses mid walk and stiffens as he hears him. looking up he sees his professor looking directly at him, for he was the one who called. the poor boy could only manage a small 'hm?' as a response, a surprised look on his blushed face.

"you picked such a lovely gift!" he smiles gently. but jeongguk looks at him with a puzzled look, so his professor points at the bouquet of lavenders he was holding in his hand. "she must be one of a kind.." he smiles again along with a small chuckle.

"actually mr. kim," jeongguk raises the bouquet in front of him, "it's for you."

the said male scrunched his face, "for..me?" he receives the flowers and stays shocked for a while. he was speechless; he had never received anything in his life with thought behind it. so why was one of his students giving him such kindness?

"i like you."

the professor looks up again, the flowers still in his hands.

"no, i love you." jeongguk fiddles with his hands as he continues, "i have since the first time i saw you, you were something else; something that is too hard to describe.." he huffs, "but..my feelings are true and my heart is in the right place!" jeongguk, now flustered, carries on as he grips the strap to his backpack, "so please, go out on a date with me!" he bows and speed walks out the door, leaving a speechless man behind.

the sounds of scrunching paper around the bouquet brings the older back to reality, his eyes wandering in confusion. eventually, he spots a white, small card inside the flowers. he brushes aside a few lavenders to pull out the small card. the back was designed in gold, bold figures; a herb in the middle. but on the front it was different, a small note.

____________________________________

|                                                          |

|                      for my one                       |

and only

                  —j.k ♥︎

|                                                                    |

____________________________________

[adhdtoomanycommas]

ADHD, Gifted Programs, and Accidental Accommodations

So one big thing has been on my mind pretty consistently since I got diagnosed last year at the age of 30—why did it take so long to figure this out?  At no point in my K-12 education or my 4 year bachelor’s degree schooling did any teacher or counselor question or suggest I may have ADHD, despite the fact that I check nearly every single box on every diagnostic criteria (both inattentive and hyperactive!)

One obvious reason is sexism.  Pretty early in my reading on the subject, I learned that ADHD is dramatically under-diagnosed in girls and women. Partly this is because of different presentations, but a lot of it is just that the stereotype people have in their heads of what an ADHD kid looks like is always a boy.  

But the other big reason, and the one I want to talk about today, is the fact that one of the few ADHD diagnostic boxes that I didn’t check was “bad grades.”  So really, the question is, why weren’t my grades bad?

That’s not to say I was especially good at school work. My backpacks, desks, and binders were always a complete mess, and I NEVER did the homework.  I would do the big projects (at the last possible second, of course) but daily homework just straight up didn’t happen.   If there was time left at the end of class I would sometimes quickly do the homework for the next day, and occasionally jot down some approximation of it in the minute or two before class started, but when I was actually at home, I never touched it.

But here’s the thing with ADHD brains:  We can focus on things with no problem, as long as we find them interesting.  And I’ve always read quickly enough that doing the reading for class was usually interesting. And for the most part, the class content itself usually seemed interesting enough.    But probably most importantly, I consider tests interesting. There’s always been enough of a challenge racing-the-clock game-like aspect to them to me that I would stay engaged on the tests, and even if didn’t completely know the material, I was good at using logic to get a pretty good guess (like using all those tricks they teach for standardized tests—narrowing down the options on a multiple choice question, looking for answers in the other questions, etc.)

So even in the classes where turning in the daily homework counted for part of the grade (math and language classes mostly) I was usually able to scrape a B with only the occasional C thrown in,  and everything else was A’s.  

But part of my saving grace was the “gifted” classes.  I was very lucky that, despite not knowing about her own (probable) ADHD,  my mom knew enough about how she worked as a student to know that me (and my brother) really needed to be engaged and challenged in order to thrive.  Because of this, she advocated for us hard—she insisted we be allowed in my elementary school’s “gifted” program in kindergarten (based on our test scores of course)  even though the “gifted” program officially wasn’t even available until first grade.  And when we moved to a different state, she advocated for us again and got us included even though the “gifted” class was “full.”   She knew that nothing would make us fail faster than being bored in class, so she made sure that there was at least one day a week when we would be challenged and actually get to engage with material we found interesting.  

Aside,  despite how essential they were for me to thrive in school,  the entire concept of “gifted” programs and “gifted” kids is problematic as hell.  Half of the screening is basically just looking for class signifiers and seeing whose parents had enough free time to give them a head start (or whose parents have the time to advocate for their kids the way my mom did for me).  Not to mention there’s likely a massive racial bias. So in all this discussion of why I did ok despite my ADHD, it’s important to note that there’s a lot of privilege at play here determining who gets access to these types of programs.  

This is also why I keep putting “gifted” in quotes--  I don’t think there is anything inherent about academic ability. Also, academic ability, reading ability, testing aptitude, etc. are definitely not indicative of intelligence. Plus the entire concept of the measurability of intelligence is based on eugenics ideas, so clearly one should take the whole thing with a huge grain of salt.

Nowadays the term all the parenting blogs like to use for kids like me, with ADHD (or dyslexia, or autism, or whatever else) who also test well enough to be flagged as “gifted,”  is “Twice Exceptional”  which is a term that makes me immediately want to punch whoever uses it. Seriously,  it makes me gag.  Like, it doubles down on the “special” euphemism and seems entirely designed to make parents feel better about their kid without any consideration to how the kid feels.  No kid wants to be singled out, especially one who’s already probably pretty socially isolated (which I could digress about but that’ll be another essay for another day), and being Twice singled out certainly doesn’t help anything.  

But ultimately the teaching in the “gifted” class itself wound up being really good accommodations for ADHD. I wouldn’t have been a bit surprised if they were better than the accommodations in the separate classes actually intended for kids with ADHD and other learning issues, though since I wasn’t diagnosed as I kid I can’t actually speak to that as I don’t have any experience there.  But in the gifted classes, firstly, we were given more specific subjects as opposed to the overviews we got in regular classes.  And it’s way easier to be engaged on specific subjects like ice age mammals, or the wreck of the Titanic, than it is to be engaged with a broad list of dates or categories.  We did logic problems that were presented as games, but that were indirectly teaching us the basics for higher level math. In 6th grade, we did research projects and got to pick our own subjects completely, so we could write about whatever we were hyperfixating on at the moment (mine was on medieval warfare as depicted in the Bayeux tapestry).   And if we happened to get excited and blurt out an interesting fact vaguely related to whatever was being discussed, that was likely encouraged instead of reprimanded like it would be in the normal classroom. This continued into high school, as honors and AP level classes tended to be a lot more discussion based rather than the top-down approach at other levels, as well as affording more opportunity to choose one’s own subjects.

The story you’ll hear from (or about) a lot of ADHD kids (especially undiagnosed) flagged as “gifted” is of hitting a wall at some point, academically speaking.  That did happen to me briefly, in middle school. We started being assigned a lot more long-term projects, and there was a bit of a learning curve while I figured out how to put things off Until the last minute and not Past the last minute.  But thanks to some patient teachers who believed in me (which I might not have had outside of honors classes), I managed to pull out of it and improve my grades (with the exception of the only report-card F of my entire academic career, from a sadistic gym teacher who seemed to think that enough berating would cure asthma).

Even more stories I’ve read and heard from people who were diagnosed with ADHD as an adult say they hit that wall academically when they started college—the first time they were really self-guided in their studies.  But again, there, I was saved by an honors program.  In this case,  it was the Honors Tutorial College,  a truly strange program at Ohio University.  I was tracked into HTC by one particular professor who very much wanted HTC to expand into the art program and decided that because I had both strong test scores and a strong art portfolio (and probably, lets be real, because I was the daughter of one of the other professors) that I was the perfect person to be the first student in the new program.

OU’s website describes HTC as “flexible curriculum and one-on-one tutorials with renowned faculty that allow your curiosity to take the lead in your education.” It’s rigorous, but comes with a lot of perks, like waiving certain gen-ed classes,  being able to take classes without first taking the required prerequisites,  and designing one’s own independent study classes individually with instructors.  And those perks are (as far as I know entirely accidentally) the perfect accommodations for an ADHD student (and probably pretty good for Autistic ones as well, based on some of my peers in the program).

A lot of the gen-ed classes I waived were ones I probably would have been bored in and thusly not done well.  Being able to skip pre-reqs meant that, for instance, for my English requirements I was able to take far more interesting classes like Shakespeare’s Comedies,  YA Lit,  and Playwriting instead of English 101, 102 etc.  If I wanted to learn about something in particular, I had help finding a professor willing to help me in an independent study/tutorial class.  Being the pilot of the program meant I was able to shape it so that I could get an art degree without ever having to choose one medium (which as far as I know is still an option for anyone pursuing an HTC Studio Art degree).  And at the end of the program, when we were required to complete a massive thesis project and paper (at basically graduate level), not only could I choose my subject to meet my hyperfixations, but I had individual help from a professor keeping me on task on the less-fun parts at every step of the way.  

HTC students are required to keep their GPAs above a high threshold. At one point one of my grades (in Latin class) was low enough to hurt my average, and I was called into HTC headquarters for a check-in meeting.  I was asked why my grade had fallen, and I explained that the class wasn’t that interesting (at that level it was mostly grammar) but that it was getting better as we were moving up into translating more actual historical material. That explanation was entirely accepted.  Imagine if “it’s not interesting enough” was considered a valid excuse for grades slipping for everyone, how much less stressful school would be for ADHD kids!

So ultimately it’s pretty much been having the luck and privilege to get myself flagged for “gifted” classes that kept my grades up throughout my school years.  Accidental accommodations have continued into my adult life as well. At my most recent office job, for instance (which I lost due to covid layoffs), I had a pretty hands-off boss who just didn’t care if I doodled, got up to stretch my legs every once in a while, and listened to audiobooks at my desk all day as long as the work got done.  

I didn’t need a diagnosis to get these accommodations, because they were given freely, which meant I was able to succeed even without knowing about my own ADHD.  If I had been diagnosed, and had had to ask for accommodations, I wonder if I would have done as well as bias against people with ADHD means people wouldn’t have expected as much from me.  

So if you’ve made it this far, I’ll ask for the same for others that I got for myself.  If you are a teacher (or a manager in an office setting),  I strongly encourage you to consider how to make your classroom, office, etc. more accessible in general, without someone having to disclose a diagnosis or be singled out for accommodations.  The biggest easiest one you can do is to allow (or even encourage) doodling in lecture settings. Even for neurotypicals,  there have been plenty of studies proving people retain information better when doodling, so everyone should know by now that someone doodling doesn’t mean they’re not listening.   If at all possible, encourage discussion and contribution.  Give everyone breaks to stretch and move around.  And give as much freedom as possible on what to learn about.  You might be surprised what people are capable of when these reasonable steps are taken to give everyone room to thrive.  

That’s all for now,  hopefully you got something out of this unwieldy ramble.   I’d be curious to hear if you’ve run into any accidental accommodations in your life and how they’ve helped.  Until next time!

[sunshinejs]

You’re 10/10

In honour of yesterday being 10/10, I thought of this and I hope you enjoy this little fluff! 

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Word Count: 2k

You opened your eyes tiredly as the sunlight, peeking through the curtain, hits you. You roll around sleepily, wanting to cuddle into your boyfriend because your body was against getting out of bed in that moment.

You expected to find him behind you, still fast asleep in his side of the bed, but when you were met with an empty spot instead; you frowned. You touched the sheets where he laid and it felt cold, which meant Connor has been awake and out of bed for quite some time; not wanting to disturb you after the amount of studying you were doing last night.

You reached for your phone on the side table to check for the time and any messages your friends may have sent to you. When the device was close enough to your face, it’s only then you realize that there was a sticky note stuck to the phone screen.

1/10 - hi baby! You looked so peaceful sleeping so I didn’t want to disturb you :( I’ve got practice till 1pm then I’m heading to Shawn’s for a study session (and no, we’re not gonna play FIFA…) I know you’re heading to the library with Sam so I’ll see you later okay? Have an amazing day! I love you tons, sweets xx

You snickered at how his handwriting decreased in font size with each word, trying to fit the entire paragraph on the pink sticky note. You smiled to yourself, taking the note off from your phone and pasting it on the table instead.

Connor loved doing little things like these that would make your day. You loved it when he randomly writes stuff on sticky notes and pasting them on objects/at places where you would usually see them, regardless of what he writes on them. He could probably write something boring that his professor said during a lecture and it would still make you smile.

After fifteen minutes of going through your phone in bed, you thought it was finally time to get yourself ready for the day so you could meet Sam in the library on time. Once you got out of bed and did some light stretching, you headed for the bathroom and that’s when you noticed another pink note stuck on the white door.

2/10 - don’t shower too long!! Or you’ll be late for your study session :p xx

You rolled your eyes at his comment. So, you like to take long showers sometimes and Connor loved teasing you about it. After taking a quick shower, you headed for your shared closet so you could choose a comfy attire to put on for your long day in the library.

On the inner door of the closet, you noticed there were two sticky notes with his messy handwriting that you adored.

3/10 - since you’re going to the library, I figured you wanted to wear something comfy. Picked out your favourite grey hoodie (that belongs to me but apparently isn’t mine anymore? Logical, I guess) and a pair of black leggings for you and it’s folded in the middle compartment :) xx

3/10 (continued) - I can’t see you right now but I bet you look suuuuuper cozy in that hoodie and I just want to cuddle with my very soft girlfriend. Tonight please? Circle your answer below and stick it on my table ❤️ xx

Yes            No (If you circle this, you’re on the couch tonight ma’am. I refuse to share the bed if I’m not getting cuddles. Nope)

You blushed to yourself as you read the notes. Connor knew you like the back of his head; it was like he read your mind because what he picked out for you was exactly what you were thinking of wearing ever since you were in the shower.

After changing into your clothes, you took the stickynote, walked over to your desk for a pen, circled ‘yes’ and stuck it on Connor’s side table then made the bed, just because you love coming home to a neat room.

You had no idea why Connor was suddenly bringing up the random note pasting again out of nowhere but you weren’t going to go against it.

You grabbed your belongings and headed out to the kitchen. On the door that separated the kitchen from the living room, to no one’s surprise; was another note.

4/10 - I know you’re heading to the kitchen to make coffee but please eat something!! Or I’ll kick your butt!! (Okay fine, I won’t. Your butt is too cute to be kicked)

But seriously baby, have something to eat. You’re gonna need the energy for your study session xx

And something hits you. Each note was numbered, which was unusual for him to do and it started to make you wonder; was there something about today that you completely missed?

Connor’s birthday? Nope, that was months ago.

Your birthday? Nope, that was over as well.

Anniversary? Not for another month.

As you stood over the counter, having cereal for breakfast and a glass of water, you shot him a quick text.

iMessage to Baby Con: what’s with all the sticky notes? xx

iMessage from Baby Con: no reason! Felt like showering you with a bit more love todayyyy xxx

And you let it slide. If Connor wants to be a little sweeter today, who were you to tell him to stop?

You went to drop the empty bowl in the sink and opened up one of the cabinets to retrieve your flask so you could fill it with hot coffee. On your flask was another note.

5/10 - You know how the ‘I love you 3000’ became a thing after Endgame? Can we make our own one so it’s more special?

I love you 3011 honey!!

p.s if you don’t get this… I’m seriously gonna pack up and leave you xx

3011; 30th November aka your anniversary.

Connor must be an idiot if he thought you could ever forget that date.

You were finally prepared to leave the apartment and head to the library when you caught a glance of another pink note stuck on the wall right above the shoe rack.

6/10 - Don’t forget to take this umbrella with you, honey! I checked the weather forecast and it’s gonna rain, which sucks. Love you and stay safe! xx

Yeah, he is really the most thoughtful and sweetest guy you’ve ever met.

When you finally met up with Sam in the library, you took out all your books from your bag. You smiled to yourself when you saw another note stuck on one of your binders.

7/10 - Study hard, baby!! But not too hard, please. I don’t want you to overstress yourself. That’s not good for my baby :( Love you, sweets and I’ll see you in a few hours xx

Sam notices you smiling to yourself, looking over the note on your binder. She smirked, reaching across the table and taking the binder out of your hand “Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

You looked up to face her, shaking your head with a smile “Connor’s just being Connor”

“Aww” She cooed, reading over the note “Brashier’s really whipped for you, babe”

You blushed “Yeah, I guess so”

3 hours into discussing over theories and re-reading case studies, you were starting to feel hungry, but you being you, always had the habit of skipping meals when you were in the middle of a study session.

And Connor knew that fact about you so well.

So, when you flipped to the last page of the article you were reading, there sat another note.

8/10 – Congrats on finishing this article! Now, stop studying and go get lunch, baby! You deserve to take a break ❤️

p.s don’t even think about lying to me. I’ll personally ask Sam if you actually ate something xx

“Hey Sam?” You called out to your friend “Wanna go grab lunch now? We’ve been at this for quite some time”

“Oh, thank God” She sighed in relief, shutting her books “I’ve been waiting for you to say that! I’m starving right now”

It was nearly 7pm when you realized how late it was getting. Your brain was burned out and you could see Sam was getting exhausted as well, seeing how you’ve been at the library for about 8 hours now.

You decided it was time to call it a day and went ahead packing all your stuff. After bidding goodbye to her at the library entrance, you headed towards the direction of home.

Pushing the front door to your shared apartment open, you made sure to lock it after letting yourself in. You took off your shoes and picked them up to place it on the rack when you noticed a new note stuck on the wall.

9/10 - are you today’s date? xx

You re-read the question, getting more confused by it. Was your brain too tired to even function or did that question made zero sense at all?

“Connor?” You called out to him as you walked deeper into the apartment “You home, love?”

“Yeah! ‘M in the kitchen, babe!” You heard him respond back to you.

You dropped your bag and headed for the kitchen, where you found him and a bouquet of roses and a box of pizza to share for the night on the counter “Hi bubs” You said, stunned by the flowers.

You definitely weren’t expecting flowers to be present for a regular dinner night.

“Hi baby” He greeted you with a smile, pressing a quick kiss to your lips “How was your day at the library?”

“Long” You noted then your eyes trailed over to the bouquet behind him, skeptically asking him “What’s with the flowers, Con? Is there a special occasion that I missed?”

Connor smirked in reply, shaking his head “No occasion. Just your answer to the 9th sticky note”

“You mean the ‘are you today’s date?’ question?” You asked confusingly “What does that have to do with getting me flowers, honey?”

“Take a closer look at the flowers and you’ll find out, baby”

Still stunned, you walked towards the island and admired the rosses. You see a card sticking out from the bouquet and as you unfolded it, you felt like your heart could burst at what was written inside.

Because you’re definitely 10/10, sweets! And I love you always xx

p.s I really hope you understand this or my brilliant idea has just gone to waste

It finally hits you; are you today’s date? Because you’re 10/10.

10th October; today’s date.

Connor walks over to you, places his hand on your waist as he pressed a kiss to your head “Do you get it now?” He asked, grinning widely.

You look up at him and he sees the laugh that’s trying to escape from your lips “Are you trying to tell me you did all this so you could tell me I’m 10/10, Connor D. Brashier?”

“I thought of this last year and had to wait a whole year to do it so, yes” He said proudly “Because you really are a 10/10, babe”

You cooed, wrapping your arms around him “This is the cheesiest shit you’ve ever done but it’s all so very cute. I love you so much and thank you for entertaining me with your little notes today, bubs”

“’M only cheesy when it comes to you, sweets” He told you, pressing a kiss to your clothed shoulder “Because you’re the only one I love”

“You’re the absolute ray of sunshine in my life, bubs” You sighed happily “And hey, for what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a 10/10 to me”

He looks at you amusedly with his eyebrows furrowed “Is that supposed to make me feel good?”

“Yeah because you’re way more than a 10 to me, bubs. And I thank all the stars in the sky that I’m lucky enough to have you as my boyfriend”

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Reblog, like or leave a comment; always appreciated!  ❤️

x rina

TAG LIST:

@hurts-like-hell-xx @connordavidscamera @r3ader @tinycertain @green-lxght @queenmxndes @turtoix

[rosaetae]

the chrysanthemum effect | 4

[this chapter is apart of the chrysanthemum effect]

☇ “Keeping your flowers, keeping your pain— it’s already everything you need to move on. How do you move on from things if you’re not willing to accept them?“

➣  pairing: taehyung x reader

➣  genre: hanahaki!au, model!taehyung, weddingplanner(ish)!au  

➣  word count: 3.0k

➣  summary: the hanahaki disease has become a stigma in this world where if you had it, you are looked down upon. her flowers were white chrysanthemums and they have been for the past two years. she was in love with someone who obviously didn’t feel the same way, and this was her way of moving on— along with the people in her life who had to conform around the hanahaki disease.

"There you are," Eunmi exclaims, lowering down her laptop screen and looking at you through her turtle glasses. "What the hell was that?"

"Eunmi," you began cautiously, letting yourself drop your bag off on the chair behind your desk first before facing her. "I'm sorry."

"Nuh-uh. You don't get to ditch me like that without even telling me why," she narrows her eyes at you as you kept laid your hands by your side. "Kind of rude, don't you think?"

"I'm sorry. I had an emergency."

And for the moment, she takes the time to stare at you. That god-awful stare that looked indifferent to everything, but if you focus just a little bit, you realize that she's looking right through your soul. "When I said to get a drink, I meant at the bar, not back at home." She sighs, taking off her glasses and crossing her hands together, letting off her steam. "I wasn't really referring as to you leaving me at the event, earlier."

You reach into your bag to take out the binder you were given, alongside with the files you were given on your desk by Eunmi herself. "What were you referring to?"

"More of your immediate exit after you saw Taehyung."

"Hm?" You pause momentarily before you continue at the files and begin organizing them within the binder, hoping she didn't see your fleeting pause at his name.

"What? You're gonna pretend I didn't see you almost have a small panic attack when Kim Taehyung came by? You ran away the minute he came."

You open your mouth to reason, but you shook your head instead. "It was nothing."

"Nothing, my ass— stop filing those," she scolds as you let out a small chuckle. "Is Taehyung someone we should be worried about?"

You rose your head to look at her concerned eyes. "No."

"Really now? So you're telling me that stunt you pulled at the event where you ran off when he came meant nothing? This isn't some sort of situation I should be concerned about?"

"Eunmi," you start, frazzled. "Why are you so worried?"

"Because for all I know, he could be a sexual harasser! I don't know this boy and I'd be guilty forever knowing that I told a sexual harasser where you were."

"Huh?" You wonder, confusedly. "What are you talking about, Eunmi?"

"After you texted me that you were leaving, Taehyung saw me and asked where you went. At first, I was surprised you two knew each other, so I told him that you just left and I saw him leave after you. And then this awful... dreadful thought occurred to me. So, please. Tell me that I did not just do something inhumane."

You stare at her before you realize what she's worried at and you can only let out a little chuckle. "No. No, Eunmi, you didn't. You didn't do any of a sort."

She lets out a relieved sigh, as if everything that was eating her alive was finally gone after your subtle reassurance. "Okay, goodness. I nearly thought I put you in the wrong hands."

You smile at her caring side. "No, no, Taehyung's not like that. You're fine."

"I sure hope he isn't. He was one of the groomsmen for a wedding I organized. I recognized him because he modeled for suits. I was nearly scared I was fooled by his good looks."

To that, you let out a laugh. "Is that how you know him?"

"Yes. And I was wondering why he was at the charity event, then I was told he got signed to the Next Models' agency here. Good for him."

"Oh, yeah," you hum, dismissively. "He did, huh?"

"Now it's my turn to ask him how you know him."

You gave a brief glance before getting back to your filing. "He's Hoseok's friend."

"Hoseok's friend," she repeats. "What's he to you?"

"No one in particular."

You hear her chuckle a bit. "I'm a wedding planner, ___. He's definitely someone to you."

"He's someone else to me," you state blandly. Eunmi gives you an expectant look before you let out a sigh.

And with that, she nods with understanding. "Alright then. I won't push."

You gave her a small smile, grateful that she wasn't going to push it. "On another, lighter note, I agreed to plan Jungkook and Annie's wedding," Eunmi announces and you shoot a look at her.

"What changed your mind?"

Eunmi shrugs with a smirk. "I met them. They were really sweet and Annie was one of the bridesmaids for the Chong Sungri and Elle wedding! You weren't here at that time, but I was shocked when I didn't recognize her because she sang at their wedding."

"Oh," you say with intent, wondering if that's how Jungkook and Annie met— through the crossing of their careers.

"They said they wanted to have a private wedding."

"A private wedding?"

"Yes, a super private wedding, I quote. And I agreed. Next week is the Youngs' wedding and in a month is the Fridwalds'," she says. "Plus Annie is surely a neat freak. She already e-mailed certain color schemes and the venue they already booked." Eunmi was typing on her laptop, her fingers moving like the wind on the keyboard. "She even sent me her flower choices."

"That's interesting," you muse. "What are they?"

Eunmi then turns her laptop around for you to see. Though you had to squint a smidge, your eyes focus on a hue of a sort of blue.

"Pretty, huh? They're blue poppies."

Taehyung was craving Planetarium Coffee, the one coffee shop he truly missed when he left the city.

He was quietly walking down the street after taking the metro, the familiar sight of the street he remembers walking along on early mornings and the latest of nights. Though, it's been awhile, he can recall it to this day.

As he was strolling along the large windows of the coffee shop, he noticed that there was renovation to the wall— the painting used to be a tree, but it presented a neutral toned abstract tiger. Casting gazes to the inside as he neared the door of the entrance, he nearly does a double take.

He doesn't know why he was surprised, but the sight of you on the other side of the window, all your work from your laptop, to your binder, to your books, to papers scattered on a table for four, population: you, it stuns him to see you there occupying yourself.

The coffee shop itself didn't look too busy at 9 in the morning, but when he sees you there, eyebrows furrowed in the midst of your major focus, he couldn't help but smirk to himself, realizing that you haven't changed your studying location, let alone the table you sat at.

He remembers that your favorite place to sit in any café or restaurant sitting near the window, because you liked to observe strangers as they come and go in the progressive city.

Taehyung goes in without hesitation, realizing that though there have been some renovations, the atmosphere hasn't changed a bit. As he waits second in line, he peers over to you for a moment as the person in front of him was ordering. He watches tentatively as you gather your papers together, putting them into the ring of the binder, and going back onto your laptop, the same furrow in your eyebrows making an appearance.

When it was his turn to order, he scans over the familiar menu, seeing that it hasn't even tweaked a bit from the last time he had been.

"A hazelnut latte with an extra shot," Taehyung orders, readily taking out his wallet from his back pocket. As the barista was taking the order into the register, Taehyung glances at you from the side, totally unaware of his presence before he turns back to the barista. "And a regular french roast, light cream."

He remembers you loving Planetarium's French roast coffee and how easily upset you get when they add a bit too much cream to your liking.

The barista, nodding his head, puts in the order and asks Taehyung for anything else, to which he replies with "no" and hands his credit card.

The coffee takes awhile to make, and Taehyung stands there by the pick up counter, throwing glances at you every now and then. When his coffee comes out, followed by yours, he puts on a smile as he approaches you, sitting in the chair across from yours. He watches amusedly at your expression growing a tinge bit of annoyance at the fact that a stranger was sitting at your table.

Eyes raising, he can tell you were about to shoo him off, until the wide eyes of familiarization and subtle surprise takes over. "Taehyung?"

Taehyung smiles, nudging the cup of coffee he bought in front of you. "I thought you might need this." You arch an eyebrow in question.

"Did you just buy me coffee?"

Your voice was bland and abruptly dry, and he notices you must have caught on to the following because you clear your throat. Instead of asking about it, he curls his lips upwards.

"A thank you will suffice."

To that, he was slightly surprised when you laugh softly, straightening your back in your seat. "I would accept it, Taehyung. I would. But I'm not a coffee person."

"What? Since when?" He gapes. There was no way he can mistaken your love for coffee— he knew how much you loved it— you lived off of his coffee almost every morning when you used to stay over.

"Well, at least not anymore," he hears you murmur quietly.

Over-dramatically, he lets out a gasp that has you rolling your eyes. "Does ___ hate coffee now?"

"No," you shook your head, a small smile on your lips to his over-exaggeration. "I just can't have it anymore."

He found that odd, and he wanted to question it, but he knew that it wasn't exactly his place. "Is that so?" He settles with, tapping his index finger on the side of the cup that was embraced by his hands. "How does tea sound to you?"

Taehyung watches as you pause momentarily. Your eyes blinked once or twice, only to end up nodding slightly. "Tea's fine. So long it's not black."

And as you brought your focus back down to your work as he kept that a mental note.

"So, what are you doing here?" You ask in the midst of writing down a sentence while he takes a sip of his coffee.

Taehyung looks at you momentarily before he's looking down at his to-go cup of coffee. "Picking up coffee before I go to work," he states simply. "You know, you never changed where you study. It's been the same spot."

He watches you shrug slightly. "Well, I mean, it's nearby school and my work. Plus it's always been peaceful here."

"Can't argue with that," he nods towards the work you were doing. "Homework?"

"For anatomy," you nod. "Which starts in... two hours?"

To that, he snorts, causing you to smile slightly. "And you're here?"

"Well, I always come here to get some studying in before class."

"No more late night studying sessions?"

He remembers specifically those 3 AM studying sessions and all nighters you always took. He found it rather ambitious of you to be up at that time and still manage to get up for your 10 AM's, being why it was an odd change to even see you doing homework at 9 AM.

You shook your head. "Well, ever since—"

The sound of Taehyung's phone rang in his back pocket, startling both him and you. He notices that you give him a nod, understanding if he answered his phone or not, but he shook his head.

"Sorry bout that," Taehyung sets his phone into silence, seemingly to have surprised you by the way your eyes averted from his phone back to his eyes. "You were saying?"

"You can answer it," you offer, but as he shakes his head, you turn your head to the giant wall clock on the other wall. "Shouldn't you be getting to work anyways?"

Taehyung, letting his gaze fall towards the giant wall clock, realizes he should be getting to work. He nods, letting out a sigh that makes you arch an eyebrow at him. "Yeah, you're right."

He grabs his coffee, ready to take off before you're grabbing at the cup of coffee he bought for you.

"Here," you say, shoving the cup into his hand. "Give this to someone else or something, I'm not going to drink it."

For a moment, he just stares.

The way that you were holding the cup in your hands, wanting him to take it back, along with those eyes that he used to know and love— it all felt foreign.

The realization that he was an idiot for even thinking it wouldn't be the slightest bit awkward around you two hit him a long time ago, but he didn't realize that this feeling— this unfamiliar atmosphere between you two would reach a level to be so severe.

And the audacity? To even show up and speak to you as if you forgot everything that happened between you two?

It was a conflict with his mind and his heart and he truly wished that his mind in the past hadn't done things too irrational.

He then nods, taking the drink he mistakingly bought for you into his hand, watching you give him a smile that was meant particularly for strangers before he leaves Planetarium, his mind going in circles, wishing that maybe that things between you two can be okay.

"How was the meeting with them?" You inquire as you came in into Eunmi's office, dropping your bag on your chair and grabbing one of the binders from the shelves.

"It went alright," she replies with a sigh, the sound of her typing something up on her laptop following afterwards. "Do you want to know something greatly intriguing that I learned about them?"

Turning your head over your shoulder to give her a glance before turning back to the shelf, you give a single nod. "Sure?"

"Jungkook and Annie fell in love with each other after they were dating," Eunmi says in absolute intrigue, to which you furrow your own eyebrows and look at her. "Jungkook, an absolute sweetheart, was saying how he met her through his label, and she was the one that initiated it because her agent thought it would be good for publicity."

"Sounds... banal."

"Oh, it is," Eunmi excitedly agrees as you take one of the binders meant for a wedding next month. "It was painfully cliché, I wanted to gouge my eyeballs out. You know, they were never in love, now they are, and now—"

"And now they're engaged?"

"Now they're engaged," Eunmi repeats in amusement. "But I have no doubt that they'll last for quite a long time. What made me so intrigued about them was that there's this certain look that Jungkook gives to Annie. I've seen enough people 'in love' in my time to know that this look he gives... it's genuine. He looked at her as if... he's found the one he was meant for."

You pause, the last sentence eliciting an almost melancholy feeling in your heart and in your stomach. Unsure why, but you think about Minji and how the girl you saw at the bathroom must have once been happy with Jungkook, and Jungkook must have once been happy with her.

There was not a doubt in the world that Minji must have once felt this indescribable love for him, even when she knew that it wouldn't work out. Perhaps that's why people in love become fools. Because you knew, Jungkook must have once at least given Minji that same look— that same look of genuinity and love— only to give it to someone else.

"That's quite... nice," you continue to tend at the binder in your hand as you try to feign indifference, but the thought of the Minji and her blue poppies was hurling at your brain. It was no doubt that Eunmi caught that look in your eye and tone in your voice.

Eunmi, in the corner of your eyes, stops typing and looks over at you. "How so?"

Flipping through the binder, you shrug. "It's just... do you ever think that people can fall in love and out of love too easily?"

Her eyebrows arch. "What are you talking about?"

You chewed on the inside of your cheek. "I know I shouldn't tell you this, but I met the girl Jungkook was in love with before Annie."

"What?"

"Yeah, I met the girl Jungkook loved," you nod, a look on Eunmi's face mixed with surprise and confusion. "I met her at a club, and I saw her throw up flowers, Eunmi. Not just any flowers— they were blue poppies."

Eunmi's mouth that was shaped into a tiny 'o' had already grew immensely, as you nod. "They were blue poppies?"

You nod. "It was originally a song that Jungkook wrote for her. You should've seen her, Eunmi, I felt so much pain for her."

"Is she okay now?"

Nodding slightly, you hum. "She got the surgery. It was just... it was just disheartening. She said they never were public because he was famous and she wasn't. The fans would've been outraged, but even I can tell they loved each other even when the relationship wasn't going to work out in the first place."

Eunmi purses her lips together, a look of subtle certainty painting her face. "And you believe this girl?"

You nod without a single thought of hesitation. "Of course. I don't know why anyone would lie about who they love. I think it's painful enough not to remember someone you once gave the world to—" You don't miss the way Eunmi stares at you—  as if this were a totally new side of you that you were showing. "I couldn't imagine anyone sick enough to make that up. Plus, she got the surgery. It's not like she'll remember him anyways."

You watch her intertwine her own hands together in attentiveness, almost intrigued by your statement, but you thought little of it.

"I do hope she's happy though," you mutter just loud enough for her to hear. "Wherever she is right now. I wish I could've told her that everything would be okay... that she's okay."

[yeeosang-archive2]

Hi I don't know if you can help but do you know where I can find a binder to hold my photocards?

hi! So personally I just use one of the regular binders to can find at like staples or office supply store!!!

Then I just have these card pocket holders that can fit up to 9 photocards I got mine at the dollar store!!!

And for any larger ones I use the big paper protectors