#reusable st

[autisticabbey]

My customized Pallas and Diamond Moon St. Patrick's day and Charon mesh laundry bags, folding laundry baskets, and reusable movie cups Saturn bath towels set, and my DIY Saturn puzzle piece socks and Charon puzzle piece T shirt and designer sneakers.

[morepopcornplease]

I would like to thank the spirit of St Zita for possessing me last night to finally, FINALLY scrub, sweep, swiffer, and wipe down my apt kitchen & floors til past midnight.

Shit needed to get done

[frankiecatphotography]

Spacey St. Louis Skyline Reusable Grocery Tote Bag - on Sale!

[lonestarflight]

Landing of Shuttle Challenger at the Kennedy Space Center following the completion of STS-41-B Mission.

"A chase plane gets a 'front row' position to view the touchdown of the total landing gear of the Space Shuttle Challenger as the reusable spacecraft makes NASA's first landing on the runway at the Kennedy Space Center's (KSC) landing facility. This photograph was taken from another T-38 chase plane."

Date: February 27, 1984

NASA ID: S84-27717

[livingforstars]

Tanks for the Lift - February 24th, 1996.

"Sixteen minutes after the liftoff of STS-29, the Space Shuttle Discovey's jettisoned External Tank (ET) is seen here, in a photograph by shuttle astronaut James P. Bagian, falling back towards Earth. The 154 foot long ET is the largest non-reusable component in the Shuttle system. After carrying over 500,000 gallons of liquid propellant to feed the shuttle's main engines during liftoff, its ultimate fate is to re-enter the atmosphere, break up and descend into a remote ocean area. The side of this ET shows a normal burn scar caused during the separation of one of the reusable solid rocket boosters."

[daechwitatamic]

III. So I Speak Your Name || KNJ

(banner by @/itaeewon)

Title: My Feet to Follow, and My Heart to Hold (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni

Genre: college!au, roomie!au, angst, s2l, the absolute slowest of burns

Pairing: Namjoon x female reader, unrequited Taehyung x reader

Beta'd by @/kookstempo, @/casuallyimagining, and @/toikiii - thank you endlessly!

Summary: You know a lot about the many types of love thanks to Kim Taehyung. You love him as the only person you see as “family”, you love him as your very best friend, and you love him as the beautiful, funny man he’s become. But when a twist of fate during your senior year has you rooming with his good friend Kim Namjoon, you just might find that you have plenty left to learn about love. 

Lesson One: there are such things as a right way and a wrong way to love and to be loved.

//

You and Namjoon bond over literature and alcohol.

Section Warnings: language, drinking, drinking games, bar scenes, pov switches between OC and Namjoon a few times

WC: 7.5k

The world is mine: blue hill, still silver lake, Broad field, bright flower, and the long white road A gateless garden, and an open path: My feet to follow, and my heart to hold. - Journey | Edna St. Vincent Millay

Tuesday October 9th

On Sundays I visit graveyards, paying my respects to the many  words that have died  on my lips.

On Sundays I leave flowers commemorating each admission that I struck down before it could reach you.

On Sundays I leave stones atop marble markers to memorialize those that you and I chose to leave unturned.

They say you only exist as long as someone remembers you, so I speak your name like my own Hail Mary full of grace.

You scratch out the last four lines and read it back. Then you change your mind, decide you like them, and add them once again at the bottom.

The final so turns into an and. Then you change it back to so. You sigh in frustration, closing your eyes. 

“You sound angry,” someone says, and you nearly leap off the stool in your kitchen. Namjoon stands in the doorway, holding a grocery bag, a carton of eggs sticking out the top. 

“Why did I choose a writing degree when I’m so bad at writing?” you ask him plaintively. 

It’s a little more honest, a little more personal than you two have been before. It just sort of slips, honestly, your head still a bit stuck in the world of words and phrases instead of in the present.

He smiles ruefully and moves into the kitchen, starting to put away his groceries. “I know that feeling,” he admits. Then, not looking at you, he adds, “I didn’t know you were in the writing program. I did it, too, for undergrad. You have Jemisen?”

“Really?” you ask. “How did we live together for a month and not know that? And yeah, Jemisen.”

Namjoon chuckles lightly, and you catch yourself watching his shoulders move as he reaches high in a cupboard to put a box away. “I guess we don’t talk that much,” he admits. “Are you doing fiction for your thesis?”

“Poetry,” you tell him.

He turns to look at you over his shoulder, clearly surprised.

“Wow,” he says, brows furrowed. “Really?”

You laugh a little at the circular nature of your conversation. “Yes, really,” you say, smiling. “Though I will admit to regretting that decision on more than one occasion.”

“Again,” he says, finally folding up his reusable grocery bag and stashing it between the fridge and the counter, “I know the feeling.”

“Are you doing writing for your grad program too?” you ask, suddenly curious. 

He nods, leaning back against the counter. It’s that magical golden hour in the apartment, your favorite, when the outside light comes in orange and glowing. It casts a honey tinge over Namjoon’s skin, a softer brown showing up in his dark hair. There’s something sharp in his gaze suddenly, something that’s not usually there - like he’s honing in on something for the first time. 

“Fiction?” you prod. This is more interesting than your poetry homework, for sure. 

“Unfortunately,” he jokes. “So, poetry? My buddy did that track, he said it was hard. I thought about it, but I didn’t want to give up on fiction entirely, and I knew I couldn’t handle both. Plus my poetry’s pretty bad.”

“So is mine,” you grumble, eyeing your notebook grumpily. 

Namjoon gives a sigh and moves towards his room. “I have class tonight,” he tells you, “but if you want to order extra dinner and leave me the leftovers, I’ll pay you for it.”

“Sure,” you say easily, glancing at the clock. You hadn’t really thought about dinner yet, but you’ll need to soon. “Text me what you want. I’ll probably get our usual.”

It strikes you, suddenly, that you two have a usual. It’s early October, the leaves barely starting to turn. It’s the part of fall where you’re too hot when you walk in the sun, and chilly when you walk through the shadows. You’ve only lived with Namjoon for about a month and a half, and somehow you have a usual takeout order.

It’s strange.

But you don’t hate it.

Namjoon leaves a few minutes later, a brown cross-body bag settled against his lower back. You sit at the breakfast bar, your poetry notebook closed in front of you with your pen marking your page, and wonder about your mysterious roommate. You wonder what his poetry is like, what it would tell you about him if you ever got the chance to see it. You wonder if his fiction writing is what keeps him holed up in his room day in and day out, the lights low.

About an hour later, you text Taehyung to see if he wants to come eat dinner.

“Can’t,” he answers. “Already have plans for dinner. Sry!”

You sink onto the couch, grimacing. “Already have plans” means a date. 

The thing is, you know you could ask Taehyung to take you to dinner, and he’d do it. Hell, you could probably even say, “Take me on a date,” and he’d do that, too - wear something nice, spray on a more expensive cologne, open the car door for you and pull out your chair, all that shit. He’d do everything exactly right.

He’d do everything for the sake of irony. 

That’s what it boils down to, and you know it in your bones: intention. Taehyung could spend all twenty-four hours treating you exactly how a boyfriend should, but at the end of the day his intention was not romantic, and there was nothing you could do to change that. 

You turn on the tv, determined not to waste your night wondering how his is going.

Thursday October 11th 

Thursday marks nearly the middle of the month. It’s unseasonably warm when you walk to class, but you carry a jacket, knowing that when you leave the bookstore after your shift, the chill will warrant it. 

You have a bullshit class, one that doesn’t apply to your degree concentration, something that the university requires for everyone. The only saving grace is that it’s short. 

When it ends, you have some choices. You don’t have to be at the bookstore until three. You could go back to the apartment. It’s certainly enough time. Or you could get lunch on campus and handle any academic errands you had, as it were.

And, you sort of had an academic errand swimming in the back of your mind. 

You head to the building that houses the staff offices for the writing and literature professors. They’re all tucked away in a little wing back behind where the classrooms are. You’ve been there a few times over the years - twice to talk to your academic advisor about your upcoming schedules, and once to help a professor carry her armload of papers and her laptop back from the classroom. 

You scan the names on each door until you find Jemisen, and knock tentatively. He turns, surprised. 

“Y/N,” he says, and then glances at his computer, as if trying to determine if you’d scheduled a meeting and he’d forgotten.

“I wasn’t sure if it was your office hours,” you say quickly, to let him know he hadn’t made a mistake. “But I had a quick question about my last assignment, and I was already over here on campus…”

“Ah,” he says, understanding. “Well, it is my office hours, but it just so happens that I was called into a last-second budget meeting, because how we spend our money is certainly more important than my students’ academic success!” He looks at you, seeming to think belatedly that this little sarcastic rant might have been better staying in his head. “Anyway, I have a TA here who could help you look at it? I trust him implicitly.”

You’re a little uncomfortable with the idea - Professor Jemisen has been reading and working with you on your poetry for over a year; you don’t want to work on it with a stranger. 

“Oh,” you say, “I’m not - I could -.”

A body comes around the corner. “I heard TA. Have I been summoned?”

It’s Namjoon.

You want to vanish through the floor.

“I’ll just -,” you start to say, but Professor Jemisen cuts you off, collecting some papers off of his desk and reaching for the jacket he’d placed on a hook beside the door. 

“This is Y/N, she’s a senior in my poetry thesis class,” he tells your roommate. “She’s looking for help reworking a stanza on her last submission, right, Y/N?”

You bluster, you struggle to make words. You want to shake your head no, but your body isn’t cooperating. 

“I’m happy to help,” Namjoon says to you. “My office is two doors down.”

Professor Jemisen is already through the door, clapping Namjoon on the back in thanks as he goes. This gives you the chance to collect yourself, jump-start your brain again.

“You get your own office as a TA?” you ask wryly, one eyebrow lifting. 

Namjoon smiles. There’s something different about him here, an easy confidence you don’t see him exude when he’s just at the apartment. 

“Come on,” he says, and you walk out into the narrow corridor. Namjoon closes Professor Jemisen’s door behind you and leads you to his own space.

“To answer your question,” he says, still smiling sort of sheepishly, “no, TA’s do not get their own offices. This one was empty because Bianca - Professor Whyte - retired and they haven’t replaced her yet… I sort of commandeered it. I share it with two other grad students, technically. Just until the university hires someone.”

He sits at the desk and motions for you to take the chair next to it. The office is clean and pretty empty - a tall bookshelf holds only about half a dozen books, taking up just a small section of one lone shelf. There are two small potted plants on the windowsill, and a coffee mug shoved behind the computer monitor. Otherwise, the room seems unowned, devoid of any identifying artifacts. 

“This is very weird,” you say, because you have to say it. 

“What is?” he asks absently, his eyes on one of the windowsill plants.

“My roommate reading my poetry,” you say flatly. “My roommate workshopping my poetry with me.”

He turns to look at you, surprise and perhaps a touch of hurt flickering across his face. “If you’re uncomfortable, I can ask someone else to work with you, or you can wait for Professor Jemisen. I didn’t realize…”

You sigh inwardly. You hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings. “You don’t think it’s weird?” you challenge, trying to keep your voice light.

He shrugs. “I’m just doing my job. I’m on the clock. But like I said… if you’re uncomfortable, then let’s find a Plan B.”

“You’re Plan B,” you grumble. “We’d need to find Plan C.”

You kind of want to take his offer of walking away. But you’re already here, and you don’t want to hurt his feelings worse and make things weird at home. 

“Here,” you say, rummaging in your bag. “Just don’t, like, peer into my soul or anything.”

Namjoon laughs like he’s surprised by this. “It’s poetry,” he says, grabbing a pen and turning to see what you put on the desk. “I don’t think that’s optional.”

You slide your notebook over to him. “Professor Jemisen hated the second stanza,” you say.

He looks at you, eyes wide. “He didn’t say that.”

You chuckle. “No, but it’s still true.”

Namjoon reads the poem to himself silently, lips moving with the words. 

On Sundays I leave flowers commemorating each admission that I struck down before it could reach you.

“Okay,” he says finally, “I think you should keep the top line of the stanza the same - to keep the pattern.”

You nod, listening. 

He presses his pen against his lips, eyes narrowed as they scan the lines again. “I think the word admission is too chunky,” he says. “In the second line.”

“Confession?” you supply. “Commemorating each confession?”

“That gives you some nice alliteration,” he notes, nodding.

“Does it flow better?” you prompt.

Namjoon repeats the first two lines to himself, under his breath. “On Sundays I leave flowers, commemorating each confession. Yeah, I think it does.”

“I’ll change it,” you decide, and he does it for you, scratching out admission and writing confession next to it in red ink.

“The third line sucks,” you muse, reading over his arm. 

“It doesn’t suck,” he says mildly. “What were you trying to say?”

You think about this. “That each admission - confession, whatever - that the speaker didn’t voice…it’s almost like those words were trying to reach their recipient, but the speaker shot them down in flight, you know? Does that make sense?”

Namjoon ticks his head to the side, thinking. “It makes sense,” he assures you. “I’m just thinking about how to say it.”

You both peer at the stanza in silence, thinking.

“You’ve got this imagery of shooting something down mid-flight, like you just said,” he murmurs, eyes on the page, “but in the first stanza, you say the words die on the speaker’s lips, meaning they never get said in the first place. Maybe you need to change the imagery to holding it in instead of stopping it once it’s out?”

You scan the first stanza again, nodding slowly. “Commemorating every confession that suffocated beneath fresh-packed earth,” you say, voice almost a whisper as you listen to how the phrase would sound.

Namjoon chuckles darkly. “Buried alive? Harsh.”

You tap the page, finger on the bottom stanza. “The confessions - the words - are what died and got buried. But then, in the final stanza, she’s saying she keeps him alive by remembering him, but maybe she’s keeping her confessions alive as well. Like, she’s continuing to give them life by continuing to speak life into them. It works on two levels.”

Namjoon nods, letting out a quick, impressed breath almost like a laugh. “That’s good,” he says, sliding your notebook over to you. “Write it down before you forget.”

You scratch out the second stanza and write in the space next to it,

On Sundays I leave flowers commemorating every confession that suffocated beneath six feet of fresh-packed earth.

“I like it better,” you say, reading the whole thing back to yourself. 

“It’s definitely better,” he agrees. 

You put a hand on the page, ready to slide it completely away from him, to put it back in your bag. 

Namjoon places his fingers on the page, just inches from yours. His index finger strokes the last line, where your hand had pressed the pen to the page and placed there, Hail Mary full of grace.

“What would happen if you stopped visiting?” he asks, voice very low. He’s leaning forward, his shoulder close enough to yours that you can feel the heat coming off his body. 

“Excuse me?” you snap. This was exactly what you hadn’t wanted - interpretation, application to your real life.

“The speaker,” he corrects quickly, eyes flicking down to the page and then back up to meet yours again. There’s something gentle and coaxing in his voice as he continues. “What would happen if the speaker decided to spend their time elsewhere? Wouldn’t it be better for them to just… let the dead stay dead?”

Goosebumps cover your arms, but you’re also suddenly pissed. “I don’t have an answer to that,” you say firmly. “It’s poetry, it’s not real life.” You slap the notebook shut and toss it into your bag, tugging on the zipper like your life depends on it. You stand, hiking your bag onto your shoulder. 

He’s still looking at you contemplatively, leaning back in his chair, long legs stretching under the desk. Then, he seems to snap out of it, and he peers up at you apologetically. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m used to that kind of thinking and response from my grad classes. But you’d already expressed that you weren’t comfortable… I should’ve left that alone.”

You shift from foot to foot, still stinging. “It’s fine,” you tell him. “Thanks for the help. I’ll resubmit this version.”

“Y/N,” he calls, stopping you in the doorway. You pause, turning to look. “Would it make you feel better to see a really personal one of mine?” His smile is rueful, his dimples teasing.

You exhale on a laugh. “Only if I get to question your poor life choices when I’m done,” you say.

He laughs at this. “I accept,” he says seriously, a smile still tugging at his lips. “In exchange for your forgiveness.”

You slap your palm lightly against the wooden doorframe, twice. “It’s a deal,” you say, and disappear down the hallway. 

–

He sends you a screenshot two hours later. Before you can enlarge it enough to read anything, he sends, “Good GOD this is bad. Enjoy!” 

I love you by pressing my fingertips into soil. Is it too dry? Can it go another day? I love you by pushing ceramic just two inches  to the left where the sunlight hits at exactly four pm. I love you by wiping dust from leaves just how I'd wipe tears from cheeks. I love you by admiring each new bloom as it appears.

And when I’m thorn-pricked it doesn’t hurt because my only expectation  was for it to grow.

You read it twice, then a third time. 

[3:22 PM] You: that is NOT bad omg [3:23 PM] You: i need more context so i can mock your bad decisions [3:23 PM] You: that was the deal 😤 [3:27 PM] Namjoon: haha stop it. [3:28 PM] Namjoon: i cringed so hard when i read it again [3:29 PM] Namjoon: but i hope you actually forgive me now

Friday October 12th

‘-yet with everything left unsaid, still they said goodbye.’

Namjoon pounds twice on his desk in victory as he rereads the last line of the chapter he’d just finished. It’s good, he thinks. It’s actually good, the whole chapter. Not perfect - nothing ever would be - but good enough that he feels excited to send it to the cohort and get some feedback.

There’s a noise from his doorway and he spins in the chair, minimizing the document out of habit. 

You smile at him from the door. “It’s going well, huh?” you say, a little playfully. 

Namjoon feels something like cold run down his legs. It’s the absolute horror of being known.  “What are you talking about?” he asks, voice even.

You fold your arms over your chest like you feel defensive. “You hit the desk when you’re happy about it,” you explain.

Namjoon stares at you, absolutely dumbfounded. He hadn’t realized you even knew he was writing, let alone that you’d been tracking his habits well enough to pick up on little things like that. He’s always kept his writing - and his behavior as a writer - pretty private. The only person who had ever seen behind the curtain, so to speak, was Elyse. And look how that turned out. 

Namjoon decides to side-step this. He doesn’t know what to say. Instead, he goes with, “Did you need something?”

He knows it’s cold. He doesn’t even mean to be cold. But something about this interaction has all of his mental alarm bells ringing - telling him that this might be inching towards dangerous territory. 

Territory he’s been in before. Territory he clawed his way out of. 

“Oh,” you say, a little taken-aback. “Well, yeah. I was trying to see if anyone would be into the idea of a game night this weekend? What do you think?”

Namjoon’s about to answer that he doesn’t mind when his conversation with Yoongi and Hobi floats into his brain. He remembers their bony chins digging into his shoulders as they read your texts and affirmed that, yes, he’d hurt your feelings by leaving last time. 

“Game night,” he repeats slowly. “Care to elaborate on the plan?”

This makes you smile again, like you’re pleased that he’s entertaining the idea. “Smaller crowd than last time,” you say. “Game categories up for discussion - could do board games, drinking games, video games… maybe a rotation?”

“A rotation,” Namjoon repeats flatly, not sure if you’re joking.

Your smile widens, eyes crinkling. It had been a joke. “We can decide what we feel like,” you say. “I was thinking maybe Saturday night?”

“Okay,” Namjoon says.

“Okay I can plan it… or okay, you’ll be there?” you ask, chewing lightly on the inside of your cheek.

Namjoon feels himself smile despite himself, despite the alarm bells, despite your dead-on observation of his habits. “I’ll stay,” he promises.

Saturday October 13th 

The night actually does rotate. Or, rather, you all start with a board game and it delves soon into drinking games. Namjoon finds himself sitting on the living room floor, a whiskey and soda in his hand, watching across an abandoned game board - pieces still laying sideways, forgotten - as you giggle into Taehyung’s shoulder after being brought down by a very targeted round of Never Have I Ever.

(Never have I ever… worn a bra. …used a curling iron. …put on mascara. …cried to a Hallmark movie. The guys went right down the line, 1-2-3-4-5, you never had a chance.)

“You have to drink, Y/N,” Jungkook says, poking you with his socked foot. 

“Get your toe-socks off of me,” you try to snap, but you’re still fighting giggles and you sound as menacing as a puppy.

“I think we need a no-targeting rule,” Yoongi says fairly, watching as you dutifully down your cup and rise to mix yourself a new one. “Or Y/N will end up in the hospital tonight.”

“I am not holding your hair this time,” Taehyung shouts into the kitchen. “Once was enough!”

“It was enough for me, too, believe me,” you answer him seriously, but your mouth twitches. You’re still fighting giggles.

“He’s right,” Jimin speaks up. “No more targeting - not just Y/N, for anyone. It won’t be fun that way.”

“Should we switch games?” Hobi asks. “How about Kings?”

Namjoon groans. “I’m not drunk enough for that.”

“Then get drunker,” Taehyung tells him, nodding towards the kitchen bar - littered with half-full liquor bottles and various mixers - where you’re still standing with your cup.

“I’m working on it,” Namjoon tells him, lifting his nearly-empty cup as proof. 

You settle back onto the floor across from him, carefully holding your freshly filled cup so that it doesn’t slosh over the edges. “What’d we decide?”

The game of Kings begins harmlessly - Jungkook picks an 8 and chooses Jimin to drink whenever he drinks, no surprise there. Jimin picks a 4, and everyone slaps the floor - Yoongi is last, so he drinks. 

Then Hobi picks a King - make up any rule, any rule at all - and his eyes sparkle with unspilled mischief. 

“T-Rex arms!” Taehyung shouts. “T-Rex arms for the rest of the night!”

“Funny accents for the rest of the night!”

“You have to drink every time you say someone’s name!”

“You have to drink every time anyone says ‘what’!”

Everyone shouts their suggestions, but Hobi waves his hands to quiet them.

“If you say someone’s name,” he begins, and everyone leans forward, interested, “they get to tell the group some tea about you.”

Everyone lets out an ooooh of appreciation.

“That’s gonna get messy,” you observe, eyes wide. 

The game continues, everyone being careful to tap each other’s knees to get their attention instead of calling their names. But as the hour grows later and the alcohol flows, you all forget to be so careful. When Jimin gets up to grab another drink, Jungkook calls, “Jimin, will you bring me a beer?”

“You said his name!” Nearly the whole circle shrieks it at once, pointing sloppily at Jungkook in accusation.

“Ji- I mean, sir in the kitchen, you get to tell us some tea about Jung- I mean, this one,” Hobi says, correcting himself around a series of belly laughs. 

Jimin grins like the cat who ate the canary. “He’s the one who broke his good headphones.” He points at Yoongi to indicate which his he means since he can’t say Yoongi’s name.

“Hyung!” Jungkook cries, betrayal written all over his face and voice. 

At the same time, Yoongi’s head whips around to look at his younger friend in accusation. “You owe me money for those! They were my favorite!”

“I told you,” you say, your voice carrying sweetly over the din. “Messy.” 

The game continues, pausing when Yoongi misses his turn as he’s too busy looking up how much his headphones cost so he can show Jungkook.

Without thinking, Namjoon lazily says, “You’re up, Yoongi.”

Everyone looks at him, grins growing like predators who have discovered injured prey. 

“Oh, damn,” he sighs. Yoongi looks up from his phone, eyes glinting.

“Well,” he says, clearly enjoying his audience and the chance to embarrass his best friend, “when this friend was getting over Elyse, he played Davichi’s Beside Me on repeat for hours at a time, and I know for a fact that he still knows every word.”

Namjoon’s not sure how to name the emotion that surges from his stomach up to his face; mortified, sure. Angry, a little. Everyone around the circle is laughing - Jimin’s even wiping a lone tear from under his eye. Is it funny, from the outside? He guesses it is. He feels a little detached, a little floaty.

“Oh shit, Elyse!” Taehyung sort of shouts, sitting up a little. “I forgot about her!”

“That’s cute,” Namjoon says. “Wish I could.” Even he can hear how bitter he sounds.

“What ever happened with her?” Taehyung asks, more musing than actually directing the question at Namjoon, or anyone.

“Tae!” you scold, elbowing him. “You’re such an insensitive ass, do you know that?”

To his credit, Taehyung looks abashed and backpedals immediately. “I mean - sorry - I’m just curious. Didn’t mean to put you on blast.”

“It’s fine,” Namjoon says, but he’s dying to get out of that room, out of everyone’s sight, away from the fading laughter and from the sideways, searching look you’re giving him. He stands, tries to keep his face passive. “I’m gonna… go pee.” 

He slides into the dark of his room and heads for the bathroom. He doesn’t even need to go, he just needs it to look like he left for a reason. Behind him, he can hear Yoongi despite his purposely lowered voice as he says, “She left him back in June. Same shit as always - he loved her way more than she liked him.”

Namjoon wishes he could refute this. Even if he’d been out there to defend himself, he couldn’t. Yoongi knew every detail about Namjoon’s last relationship and the break-up that ended it, and his assessment was right. 

Namjoon had liked her - loved her - more than she liked him. His expectations were too high for what she could give him. Sometimes he wondered if she was the problem, or if he was. Were his expectations for a partner too high in general? Was he asking too much, wanting someone to care for him the way he cared for them? 

When he comes out of the bathroom, Yoongi is leaning against his desk waiting for him.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts. “The song part is funny - I was thinking about it because you were humming it in the library yesterday. I didn’t think about the… Elyse of it all. I wasn’t trying to make fun of you. Especially in front of…” He trails off. But Namjoon knows where the sentence was going. 

He doesn’t even have the oomph to argue it.

“I know,” he says simply. “It’s okay.”

“If we hadn’t been drinking…” Yoongi says, voice a little thoughtful. “I mean, I’m not trying to make excuses. I just would have considered my words a little more carefully.”

“I know,” Namjoon says again, insistent. “It’s okay, hyung. I’m not mad at you. Let’s go back.”

When they return to the group, it seems that in their absence you had organized the board game again and gotten everyone focused. He wasn’t sure if you’d done it on purpose, diverted their attention to rules and set-up so they wouldn’t look too closely at his face as he took his spot again, but he appreciated it regardless. 

Taehyung catches his eye, grimaces in apology. Namjoon gives a shrug and a headshake, letting him know they’re alright. 

How can he be mad? Are they supposed to pretend his mistakes don’t exist? He can’t impose his own rules on others, it wouldn’t be fair.

Friday October 19th

The week passes in a blur. Namjoon works on his book, workshops for his classmates, goes to class, attends his TA hours, eats, sleeps, walks outside when he can. You exist in orbit around him, sometimes communicating in passing - but only in passing. You spend no time together, have no conversations, share no text messages or meals.

It’s starting to feel safe again, Namjoon thinks. Those alarm bells have quieted down. Now they act more like disgruntled guard dogs who think they saw something in the yard; they keep their narrowed, suspicious eyes on the gate, giving unhappy grumbles now and then.

Of course, the universe never lets him rest for long. On Friday night, Hobi texts him at eight, “Bar! You have two hours to mentally prepare! I will see you there or else!!!”

Namjoon texts back, “you need to calm down with the exclamation points”. But he still turns to eye his open closet, pondering what to wear.

–

Sometimes, Namjoon just watches people. People watching is a thing, right? He catches himself at it all the time - at train stations, on campus, in malls, and here - now - at the bar. 

He watches throngs of young women mix onto and away from the dance floor, ebbing and flowing like high and low tide, like they obey the moon too. He watches men his age eye the scene like hawks.

He watches the bartenders hustle from one end to another, hands in constant motion as they exchange money, clutch shakers, wipe out glasses, open beers. He watches the bouncer sweep his gaze over the crowd, like a seaside lifeguard. 

He watches Hobi and Yoongi bend their heads together, talking animatedly over something on Hobi’s phone. He watches Jungkook and Jimin dance near the edge of the crowd, peeking surreptitiously over their shoulders to see if any of the girls near them are looking. He watches Jin throw his head back in laughter at whatever the pretty girl before him has said. 

He watches you lean forward on your elbows, eyes on Taehyung’s face like they’re magnetically drawn, as he talks to you. You both laugh at something; you finish your drink. Namjoon watches as Taehyung leans over to say something to you, slides off of his barstool, makes his way towards the dark hallway that houses the restrooms. You flag down a bartender, ordering a new drink. 

You aren’t watching Taehyung make his way back from the bathroom, but Namjoon is. He watches as Taehyung is intercepted by a beautiful, dark-haired girl who stands only as tall as the middle of his chest. He watches as Taehyung stops in his tracks, a grin slowly growing across his face, starting sly and ending open and friendly. It’s deadly, and Namjoon knows he knows it.

Namjoon sees it happen when the girl cocks her head towards the front entrance, sees it when Taehyung nods and leans down to say something to her before zig-zagging his way through the crowd back to where you sit, waiting for him.

Namjoon sees it when your smile crumples, when you quickly stitch it back together and nod eagerly, when you wave goodbye. He sees it when Taehyung and his date slip out the front door, sees it when you let your head drop to your hands, shoulders heaving with one single deep breath. 

When you raise your head again, your eyes meet his. 

And he sees it - all of it. He sees the crushing disappointment, the resignation, the acceptance. 

He’s moving without making the decision to move, his beer glass cold against his hand as he makes his way to the empty spot next to you. 

“Sorry,” he says, not hiding that he’d seen exactly what happened, had witnessed Taehyung abandon you for preferred company. 

You give yourself a little shake and give him a tiny smile. “Don’t be,” you say easily. “Good for him - I wish I had half his luck.”

Namjoon wouldn’t say he knows you that well if he was asked, doesn’t think himself an expert on your personality. But he knows it’s bravado. He can just tell. 

But he’ll let you save face. He’d want the same. 

He struggles to find something to talk to you about. His brain goes empty, like static, the second he relies on it. Finally, as you stir the ice cubes around your drink, trying not to look as dejected as you feel, he asks, “How’s senior thesis going? What are the criteria for poetry students?”

You perk up, sitting up straighter and releasing the plastic straw you’d had pinched between your fingers. “It’s going okay,” you tell him, glancing over sideways at him like you want to make sure he’s actually interested in the answer, not just asking to be polite. “The criteria? It’s half a written portfolio, half an author study.”

“Who’d you pick?” Namjoon asks, taking a sip of his beer and finding it low. 

You smile at him mischievously, eyes sparkling a little. “Guess,” you challenge.

He feels himself smile in return. “Rumi,” he shoots out.

Your laugh bursts from you, surprising both of you. “That’s your first guess?” you laugh. “Seriously? Going straight to Rumi?”

“Am I wrong?” he asks, chuckling. 

“Yes,” you insist. “Try again.”

He ponders it for a second. “Whitman. Yeats. Eliot.”

“Absolutely not,” you say. “Quit naming dead white dudes.”

Namjoon laughs again. “Poe?”

“Still a dead white dude!”

He stops, thinks again. “Olds,” he finally guesses.

You raise your eyebrows. “Wow, obscure.”

He shrugs. “She seems like your type.”

You laugh at that, a peal of laughter that has you hunching over your drink. “You’re not wrong about that,” you admit. 

“I think you need to just tell me,” Namjoon admits.

“Surely you know more poets than that!” you tease accusingly. 

“Of course I do,” he allows. “But I think this little game could go on for a very long time.”

You laugh again, and Namjoon feels a smile tug at his lips. 

He growls a mental shut up at the part of him that wants to keep making you laugh.

“St Vincent Millay,” you say, caving.

“Wow,” he says, just a bit struck dumb. Because what are the odds you’d pick her? “A favorite.”

You smile at him, eyes crinkling. “You know hers?”

Namjoon is pretty sure he has a copy of Alms stuffed between pages of his favorite notebook, a memento to his post-Elyse days, when he was - yes - listening to Beside Me on repeat and reading every heartbreak poem he could get his hands on, all in the name of feeling understood. All in the name of feeling less alone.

“My heart is what it was before, / a house where people come and go; / But it is winter with your love -” Namjoon quotes from Alms instead of answering.

You keep your eyes on him, steady, as you finish in a quiet voice, “The sashes are beset with snow. Alms? I wrote about that one for my thesis the other day.”

Namjoon catches the bartender’s eye. “If I get a few shots, do you want one?” he asks, looking over at you. You nod, he orders something cinnamony, and then he returns to your earlier conversation. “Alms is one of the only ones of hers I can quote off the top of my head. But it’s… my favorite of hers.”

You give him a sly smile. “I argued in my thesis that Alms is a diss-track.”

Namjoon splutters. “What?” he demands. 

You grin, loving this. “It is winter with your love? Like, tell me your lover is cold without telling me your lover is cold. Plus, all those lines in the middle about how she tends her plants in winter? Of course that’s your favorite.”

As the bar-tender pushes filled shot-glasses towards him, Namjoon just stares at you. You have this uncanny way of knowing things about him, and it’s unnerving. Partly because he doesn’t know that much about you, and partly because he hadn’t realized he was so easy to read.

You each take a shot glass, clicking them together before knocking them back. The burn of alcohol in his throat urges him to speak up, to address it.

“You remember how you mentioned that I tend to hit the desk when I'm happy with what I wrote?”

You frown with your whole face, brows and all, not following his line of thought at all. “...Yeah…” you say, voice wavering with uncertainty.

Namjoon looks away, at the wood of the bar beneath his fingers, at the crowd of people shouting their conversations around them, at the empty glasses waiting to be whisked away. “What else do you know?” 

He’s not sure what makes him say it. Maybe he’s tired of you dropping these little observations here and there and wants them all out at once. 

You trace a whorl in the wood with your pointer finger. Thoughtfully, voice sounding somewhat far away, you tell him, “You pace when you’re stuck. You listen to rap when it’s flowing and classical when it’s not.”

Namjoon lets out a single, shuttering laugh, barely louder than an exhale. “I’m trying to think of a less rude way to ask this, but why - how - do you know this stuff?”

You twist your mouth sideways into the cousin of a smile, self-deprecation written all over your face. “I spend a lot of time in the living room,” you say defensively with a bit of a laugh. “I can’t help but notice. You’re not very secretive.”

That’s the thing. Namjoon thought he was.

You sit in silence for a minute, the loudness of the bar’s music and chatter flowing around you. Then, completely unprompted, you add, “I know that poem you sent me is about your ex.”

Namjoon’s head snaps up, his eyes finding yours. He searches your face for anything unkind, anything mocking. Elyse had made him feel stupid - something he had very little experience with - and he was evading that feeling every second since. But there’s none to be found as you look back at him patiently.

“Y/N,” he says finally, “don’t take this the wrong way, but what the fuck.”

Once you’re sure he isn’t going to get mad or defensive, you relax, shooting him a knowing smirk. “Please,” you protest. “The line about how you can’t get hurt because you had no expectations? A juxtaposition to when you have certain expectations of a partner, and how it hurts when they’re not met. Like expecting someone to love you back, and then they don’t.”

“I think I need to be rescued from this conversation,” Namjoon jokes, pretending to look around for a life-line. “Quit it with the direct shots!”

You shrug innocently. “I’m not making any judgments about it. Just saying I understand the message.”

“How many drinks have you had?” Namjoon demands.

“I don’t know… three or four? Why?”

He can’t say because you’re saying very honest shit and people are usually polite enough to not do that. “You’re just… dropping words like juxtaposition and I…. truly don’t know how to handle it.”

You give him a wide smile, proud and teasing. “Just admit that I have a big, sexy brain.”

If this is the game you want to play, he thinks, he can play it. 

“Well,” he counters, “I know that your poem about the graveyard is actually about -” He snaps his mouth shut, sober enough to know a mistake when he’s shin-deep in it, buzzed enough to fail at stopping his gaze from flicking over to where Taehyung and that girl had disappeared through the front door. 

He watches - literally watches it happen - as a wall crashes down over your face. The open, teasing expression flattens into dull nothingness, your smile melts into a thin line, your eyes leave his and settle on your hands.

Namjoon opens his mouth to apologize, but the heavy weight of someone’s arm across his shoulders distracts him. 

“Are you two talking about poetry?” Hobi asks, voice a touch too loud. “We already have a resident nerd, Y/N, we don’t need another.”

You grasp at the interruption desperately. “Not just any poetry. His poetry.”

Hobi gasps dramatically, clutching at his chest like a wounded man. “He let you read his own poetry? My God.”

Namjoon sits back, allows Hobi and Yoongi to incorporate themselves into the conversation, lets the moment slip away. He zones entirely out of the conversation, lost in his own thoughts, letting the others pick up his slack.

He’s thinking about Alms and thinking about Elyse, thinking about how St Vincent Millay’s line “But it is winter with your love” had rolled around his brain for a solid month as he was wrestling with the insecurity and pain of loving someone who just didn’t feel it too. Elyse hadn’t been cold - at least, not until the very end. Yet, even still, it had never been… enough. 

He’s thinking about the way you just noticed things about him, the way you made him feel seen when he was used to feeling the opposite. 

He’s thinking, and it’s probably a little fucked up, that Elyse had lived with him for over three months - sharing a bed, even - and had never picked up on his mannerisms this way.

He keys back into the conversation when he notices you signing to close out your card.

“Are you going home?” he asks you, the first words he’s said in a while. Both Yoongi and Hobi turn to look at him, as if they, too, forgot he was sitting there. 

“Yeah,” you tell him. You meet his eyes, but your voice is still a little flat. “I was gonna Uber.”

“Wanna share?” he suggests.

You look at your hands again. “You don’t have to leave just because I’m leaving,” you say. 

Hobi and Yoongi swivel their heads back and forth in silence, watching this conversation like a table-tennis match.

“I’m ready to go. But I can get my own ride if you’re uncomfortable.”

“No,” you say quickly. “I’m not. That would… that’s fine.”

You say goodbye to the guys and Namjoon follows you through the bar. He’s tempted to reach out a hand and guide you, help you navigate the drunken, dancing crowd. But you aren’t his to protect, and he’s just this minute starting to examine where the urge comes from, what’s blooming here, a tiny bud forming seemingly overnight.

Outside, the silence hits him like the slap of an ocean wave. The night is warm, despite it being late October. 

You walk silently towards the curb, phone in your hand. You don’t look back at him.

“Y/N,” he says quietly. You glance over your shoulder, frosty, but you soften almost instantly when you look at him. The apology must be clear as day on his face. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

You sag with a sigh. “No,” you say. “I asked for it. I started it. You’re not supposed to dish it if you can’t take it, or something.”

Namjoon doesn’t agree or disagree, doesn’t shake his head. He just keeps his gaze on you, heavy and serious, and repeats, “I shouldn’t have said that to you.”

You drop your eyes again - he’s noticing you do that when you’re nervous, unsure of your words. Then, eyes on the road instead of on him, you say, “Assuming I was right about… you know, the poem… I’m sorry you went through that.”

Namjoon raises his eyes, up past the bar’s neon sign, up past the yellow-lit apartment windows above it, up past the fire escape and the rusty rooftop structures. He finds stars, glinting and joking from behind swiftly moving wisps of clouds. 

“Thanks,” he says. That’s all.

“It’s hard when the people we love…” you trail off, rub your hands up and down your arms as if to ward off chill on a definitively unchilly night. “It’s hard when they disappoint us. For whatever reason.”

“Yeah,” Namjoon says. The Uber pulls up, and you check the license plate against what’s on your phone screen before reaching for the back door. He’s got that same urge again, to reach out and guide you into the car. He shifts his hand into a fist, wills himself to get his shit together. As you slide over to make room for him, he lets one last breath out towards those same stars. “Yeah, it is.”

– 

Inside the Uber, you scoot to make room for Namjoon to slide in next to you, folding his long legs in behind the front passenger seat. 

The ride begins in silence, except for the driver’s music, which currently plays an advertisement in a language you don’t speak and can’t even identify. 

You feel a little dizzy, maybe from the drinks. Maybe from getting vulnerable with your roommate. You lean your head back against the headrest and close your eyes. You can feel the heat from Namjoon’s side, can sense him, solid, less than a foot away. 

“You okay?” he asks, voice low, to keep the conversation as close to private as possible.

You open your eyes, looking sideways at him. He looks back at you, searchingly. You’re struck for the first time, here in the back of a stranger’s shitty Kia, by how pretty his eyes are - full of warmth and depth, but also something sly, like he constantly knows something you don’t, yet. 

Looking at him, you’re tempted to lean against him; the desire comes out of nowhere, comes from the surety you feel that he would feel… safe. Protective. You feel sure he wouldn’t move away. 

What is this? you wonder. It’s just a moment, just a fleeting thing that will be gone by the next red light, but as tiny as it is, there’s a voice in your head pointing out that you haven’t felt this kind of anything for anyone in your whole life except Kim Taehyung. 

You fold your hands in your lap, turn to look straight ahead through the windshield. You can’t lie to him while looking at him.

“Yeah,” you say. “I’m fine.”

<- Prev || Next ->

thank you so much for reading!!!! we're past the set up, stuff is movin!!!! please consider some type of feedback, even just 'loved it!' or a keysmash lets me know it's not hot garbage!

Section IV will post on Friday, February 3rd. I hope to see you there!!!!

[fromashesweriseuphiddenones]

Cosplay on a dime

So, I have gotten a lot of compliments on my Jacob Frye cosplay I did this Halloween and I wanted to share how I put together a cosplay like that.

1) the most important step is to pick who you want to cosplay as. A general rule of thumb I use is that I try to stick to my height, hair color, eye color and skin tone for the easiest cosplays. Then all I have to focus on is my outfit. However you can find wigs that help give you a different color of hair if that's the only issue. Same goes for eye color but I don't do contacts so I try to stick with blue eyed characters, that said as long as you love the character and do your best to capture the essence of the character it shouldn't matter if you're not six foot eight, and built like a brick.

2) locate good reference images. I can't stress this enough. Don't just grab the one image of the outfit you are going for, grab other outfits and if you can find rigs, face models etc it will help you pull the entire look together.

3) start in your closet and other previous costumes you may still have. Ever since I was 13 all my costumes have been sustainable and reusable. I don't often buy actual costumes the one exception is Scorpion from Mortal Kombat because of how rare it is.

4) after seeing what you have put together a list of what you need. So in the case of my Jacob Frye cosplay all I wound up needing was one additional belt, a tie, and a pair of boots as I picked up the hat trying to do a different costume of Dr Faciliae from The Princess and The Frog.

4a) that being said sometimes grabbing something for a different costume may inspire something new.

4b) if you have family members that can help you ask. Is dad weeding out old ties, ask him if you can have a look before he donates or throws them out you can save your self a few bucks here and there.

5) always keep an eye out. I shop year round at stores like Salvation Army and St Vincent De Paul where I constantly pick up belts, pants, tops, and scarves for cosplay. I once built an entire cosplay at St Vincent De Paul.

5a) also it helps sometimes to go in what you have already to match what you need to what you have, and don't be afraid to ask for help.

6) okay so you have the costume now look back at your reference photo, does your character have scars, tattoos, anything else that you need make up or wigs for? Great!

6a) for scars and tattoos I recommend starting with the temporary tattoo pens Spirit Halloween sells, or if you are doing this after Halloween Bic sells body markers. If you are more skilled with makeup then with the scars I would recommend scar putty, it's a clay like makeup that you can use to make realistic scars and such but I suck at makeup so I cheat.

6b) with tattoos I recommend the body markers or the fake tattoo sleeves that Spirit Halloween has in one of three sections, Military, Cop or the Punk section. Party City can be hit or miss depending on when you go.

6c) there is a tutorial I found right here on Tumblr for making your own tattoo sleeves, I have a photo of my Desmond Tattoo Sleeve right here on my page as well.

7) now that you are already, it's the day of the event do yourself and anyone else who is curious a favor and take a picture of you in full get up. Yes including any makeup and extra props you need. Also keep your main reference photo on hand so you can show people the inspiration.

Lastly truly is to have fun. If done right you can have a costume/cosplay you can continue to bring out for many years to come and hopefully you didn't break the bank. Honestly the jacket for Jacob Frye was my most expensive piece this year. But the compliments were well worth it.

Also please feel free to add additional information in the comments that I can add to this post or to ask me questions about anything in specific. Like I didn't get into too many details but I can help with sizing, look, proper wearing of a wig etc.

[witchpussy42069]

Financially Fucked and Dealing with Climate Change (Tips On How To Survive Wildfire Season):

I'm not an expert, I'm just poor and the trees are on fire again❤️. Please reblog/add on your own tips or any information regarding fire safety, smoke safety, health, etc.

Before we get to how to clean the air, let's start with how to keep yourself safe. I can tell you to stay inside and avoid being out in all that smoke, but most of us are selling our souls to corporations and have jobs we have to go to. bummer.

1. Masks

Anyways, the ideal mask for this would be an N95, but a scarf or any kind of mask will also help you a little. Significantly less effectively than an N95 but it's better than no mask. Definitely wear while out and about, and consider wearing inside depending on how the air is in your home. Wash regularly if you're using a reusable mask or a scarf.

2. Washing

When you get home after being outside, take a shower and change your clothes. Wash all those pollutants out of your clothing, wash all the smoke particles off of your skin, and moisten up that air!! You're gonna want the air wet, I'll explain why in a minute. Not so wet that mold could begin to grow in your house though, to be clear.

3. Stay away from chemicals

Your lungs are tired. You've been working all day, breathing polluted air all day, your throat is sore and your head is killing you. You know what WON'T make you feel better? Breathing in the fumes of bleach, Lysol, Febreze, ammonia, etc. when you need to clean, stick to white vinegar or lemon juice, or something else natural, since you can't ventilate the house with all that smoke outside.

4. Honey & Ginger

Inevitably, your throat is sore and your head hurts. Honey and ginger will help you with that. Tea would be perfect. Peppermint tea will help too, any warm liquid with honey in it actually. Ginger is full of antioxidants, honey is full of probiotics, and mint soothes the throat and mouth.

5. Limit Excersize

Isn't excersize supposed to be good for my lungs? Yeah, it is. But your lungs are already working overtime just to survive the smoke with minimal damage if possible. So don't put extra strain on them now. Wait until the air is clear to play any sports or do any strenuous excersize.

6. Water (pt. 1)

Drink sooooo much water. Drink all of the water. And then drink even more water. Your body has this magical way of flushing out toxins and magically healing just by drinking water, and by magical I mean very scientific. I'm not a scientist tho, or a doctor, but its something something about kidneys and the liver idk, just drink water...

7. Public Places

Maybe a window in your home is broken. Maybe the vents don't work. Maybe you don't have a home. Whatever the reason, public spaces are a safe bet if you need somewhere to go with filtered air. City hall, libraries, and malls are all good options. Don't stay by the doors, especially if there's lots of people going in and out and smoke is wafting in. Go find somewhere away from unsealed windows and doors that doesn't smell or look hazy.

Okay, that's all I know about that. I'm not an expert. Now we're gonna talk about ways to clean ur air WITHOUT BUYING AN AIR PURIFIER, BECAUSE SOME OF US ARE POOR GOD DAMN IT. I cannot count how many results on the internet have told me to just buy an air purifier. I am EXTREMELY POOR 😎

Ways to clean the air in your home from wildfire smoke with things you probably either already have or can easily acquire:

Water(pt. 2):

Good ol' plain ol' water. I'm not a scientist, so forgive me for my lack of perfect articulation, but basically water absorbs smoke particles. Makes em clump together and coagulate so they're not just floating everywhere in the air. Also, as the water clings to the pollutants, it cools them down, which causes them to fall to the ground/floor. So unless you're army crawling everywhere, this is something to look into. Just get a spray bottle and mist water everywhere, aiming for just, like, the air and stuff. Or get a bowl of water and leave it to sit out and absorb toxins throughout the day. Maybe don't drink the water afterwards, but you can use it to water your plants. And speaking of plants~

Plants:

plants are your best friends when it comes to cleaning the air! We all know they take in carbon dioxide and release oxygen, but did you also know that some of them absorb mold and smoke particles from the air too? Well you do now! A list of plants that are especially good at cleaning the air include, but are not limited to:

-Aloe Vera

-Rubber Plant

-Any kind of Ivy (pothos, english, etc)

-Bamboo! (Cat safe)

-Snake Plant

-Spider Plant (Cat safe)

NASA on spider plants:

Yeah spider plants are amazing. I want 20.

Baking Soda:

Baking soda works much like activated charcoal in this scenario, what with its ability to absorb so many impurities! And baking soda's best buddy in every 5th grade science project ever, white vinegar, can help you out too! Leaving a bowl of baking soda out, or leaving a bowl of white vinegar out, will deodorize the air; but it's not just making things smell less horrible, it doesn't just mask scents, it absorbs and 🔥ELIMINATES🔥them.

__________________________________________________

Okay now everybody say thank you Tay Tay!! And thank you Mr Bezos!! And thank you to alllll the other beloved private jet owners and billionaires❤️ now I don't have to wear my mittens anymore, teehee🤭

__________________________________________________

Anyways reblog and add on your own tips for fire season safety!

[daisiesonafield-blog]

Info for Faith In The Future World Tour ST AUGUSTINE, FL - JUL 11 2023

With special guests THE SNUTS & ANDREW CUSHIN!

Important Times:

6:00 PM - Doors Open

7:00 - 7:30 PM - Andrew Cushin

8:00 PM - The Snuts

8:00 - 9:55 PM - Louis Tomlinson

Edit: the venue announced The Snuts will no longer perform.

Times are all approximate and subject to change.

General admission (pit tickets):

All guests are required to abide by the following procedures:

Guests can begin lining up no earlier than 9:00 AM on the day of show, July 11.

Sequentially numbered wristbands will be put on guests' wrists upon arrival on a first come, first served basis.

Guests must have a valid ticket for The St. Augustine Amphitheatre July 11 show to receive a wristband, and all guests in a party must be present to receive a wristband.

Any guests that have camped overnight or arrived before 9:00 AM will not be given wristbands and will be sent to the back of the line.

Guests are encouraged to return at 3:00 PM to queue for General Admission entry beginning at The West Gate (first gate closest to A1A S/main entrance).

Security will honor wristbands from 3:00 PM - 4:00 PM.

After 4:00 PM, guests will join the line on a first come, first served basis.

Loss, removal or tampering with a wristband will result in loss of place in the GA line.

Guests are not permitted to hold places in line. Please be respectful and courteous to all other guests in line.

Check the venue’s socials for updates!

💧⚠️ HYDRATION ADVISORY ⚠️💧

YOU MUST Hydrate before the show, while waiting in line and during the show

For optimal hydration drink something with electrolytes such as Gatorade or LiquidIV

Eat well!

Here are important things to know:

Thunderstorms expected, prepare accordingly!

The venue is cashless! Pay with card and mobile pay!

Parking: On-site parking in is very limited and sells out quickly. Parking passes may be pre-purchased for each event at the Box Office or online via ticketmaster.com. On-site parking currently SOLD OUT. The on-site parking lot opens two (2) hours prior to gates opening on event days. Off-site FREE parking with shuttle service at Anastasia State Park and the R.B. Hunt Elementary School Soccer Field. Shuttle service begins one hour (60 minutes) before gate time and runs for up to one hour (60 minutes) after the event ends. Parking is NOT permitted in the residential neighborhoods surrounding the venue. Details and maps here.

ADA info here

Guests (even children) are not allowed to sit or stand on the shoulders of another guest.

Cameras: NO Cameras with Detachable Lenses. Flash photography, professional cameras (including SLR cameras) are prohibited. Recording equipment, tripods, monopods and selfie sticks are also prohibited. 

Water: empty, clear, reusable water bottles to fill (and refill) at the filtered water stations throughout the venue. Single-use plastic, metal and glass containers are not permitted.

NO Outside Food or Beverages

NO Coolers

NO Animals (except service animals)

NO Marijuana or any cannabis products

NO drugs

NO Fireworks or sparklers

NO Aerosol cans (hairspray, bug spray, sunscreen)

NO knives, firearms, Brass knuckles, Tasers & mace/pepper spray or weapons of any kind

NO Camping or Folding Chairs

NO chains

NO Inflatables, throwing toys (including beach balls and frisbees), blow-up toys, balloons or bubbles

NO Medication in unmarked containers.

NO Recording devices, iPads/laptops

NO Selfie sticks, drones

NO Laser Pointers/flashlights

NO Musical Instruments or Noisemakers

NO Scooters/Skateboards

NO Strollers

NO Umbrellas

NO Wrapped Packages of Any Kind

NO throwing objects of any kind.

There is NO RE-ENTRY!

VIEW VENUE MAP 

VIEW SEAT MAP 

*This list is not exhaustive. Items not appearing on the list may still be prohibited at the discretion of Security.

Click here for some insider info about the venue and parking!

For more details click here

Bag Policy:

Bags smaller than 6" x 6" x 6"

Tote or purse smaller than 12" x 6" x 12" (as long as all items are loose)

Clear plastic bag smaller than one gallon

Seat Cushion with no pockets, arms or zippers

Diaper Bag

Medically Necessary Bags (permitted after proper inspection)

All other bags prohibited.

Details here.

Banners, signs and flag policy:

NO Signs Larger than 12" x 12"

NO Poster Tubes (Show Specific)

Contact:

For additional questions please call the venue at  (904) 209 -3746. You can also access their website. Email:  ampinfo@sjcfl.us . Check their Twitter and IG for updates. Address: 1340C A1A South, St. Augustine, Florida 32080. Venue: The St. Augustine Amphitheatre

[lexxlouuu]

How you get the Girl

Chapter 7-Anti-Hero

Warnings: online bullying maybe?

This one is really all social media au.. but the next one will have more text and less social media promise 🧡

I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser

Midnights become my afternoons

When my depression works the graveyard shift

All of the people I've ghosted stand there in the room

Earnhardt_Lily

Could not have had a better start to the season than a win. Even better when dad was there to cheer me on in person 🏎️🏎️ now time to watch the bestie go vroom vroom in St Pete

Liked by redbullracing, lucejohnson, dalejr and 3,000 others

User1: seeing Lily run to her dad immediately after her win had me bawling. Bet Dale is one proud dad right now 🥺

User2: let’s be honest Max probably just let her win 🙄

User3: seeing Lily on the podium to kick off the season…. I am here for it and can’t wait to see more 💙🏎️❤️

landonorris: congrats on the win, welcome to the grid officially 🏎️

User4: Lando’s comment are we seeing that 👀

redbullracing: what a way to start the season off with a podium ❤️💙

I should not be left to my own devices

They come with prices and vices

I end up in crisis (tale as old as time)

I wake up screaming from dreaming

One day I'll watch as you're leaving

'Cause you got tired of my scheming

(For the last time)

redbullracing

A double podium 🏎️ best way to kick off the season.

Tagged maxverstappen1 and Earnhardt_Lily

Liked by 300,000

User1: the fact that they shared the picture of Lily and her dad on the main 🥺

User2: Dale Jr and Jos Verstappen interactions should be interesting this season 😅

User3: for real though Dale Jr is literally the opposite of Jos. Especially with how Lily was raised compared to Max… Yet both are already grabbing podiums first race of the season 🫣

User4: cannot wait for more double podiums this season

It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me

At tea time, everybody agrees

I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror

It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

Earnhardt_Lily

To whoever left a bag of daisies outside of my hotel room I adore them and you are so very sweet 😭😭 now off to the next one 🏎️

Liked by addie_stewart9, lucejohnson, and 2,500 others

addie_stewart95: daisies though 🧐 in a reusable bag they must really know you.

lucejohnson: a bag of your favorite flowers 🥺 after your first win in f1 😭

User1: aweee I want a bag of my favorite flowers

User2: who leaves flowers in a random bag 🙄

User3: @user2 someone who knows that Lily’s favorite flowers are daisies and is all about saving the environment and sustainability 🙄

User2: @user3 if she really cared about the environment she wouldn’t be racing 😒

User3: @user2 ummm Sebastian Vettel ring any bells

Sometimes I feel like everybody is a sexy baby

And I'm a monster on the hill

Too big to hang out, slowly lurching toward your favorite city

Pierced through the heart, but never killed

[nikproxima]

OPAV layout and conceptual upper stage, by Max

OPAV Inspiration separates from the spent external tank, her cargo delivered to orbit safely. Art by Daylight.

Jupiter-Orbital Payload Assist Vehicle or OPAV was a system developed by Rockwell International in the late 1980s for use by NASA, the USAF and other interested parties. It consisted of three key elements, the Solid Rocket Motors built by Morton Thiokol, later Orbital ATK, the OPAV vehicle, built by Rockwell International, and the modified Super Light Weight External Tank, built by Martin Marietta and later Boeing. The system was comprised of a fleet of five flight vehicles and one airborne testbed, known as Puck. The fleet comprised of OV-201 Adventure, OV-202 Perseverance, OV-203 Endurance, OV-204 Inspiration, and OV-205 Tenacity. The system first flew in 1989 in support of the Olympus Program, with the goal of sending humans to Mars, which was accomplished for the first time in 1997. Like the Space Shuttle she was built from, Jupiter-OPAV would use the large solid rocket motors that debuted on the STS system, and the RS-25 main engines. Also like the Space Shuttle, she would reuse her most expensive components, the SRMs and engines by way of recovery. The OPAV pod's unique shape enabled a controlled descent, where the vehicle would land under parachute. She would exclusively fly with cargo throughout her nearly 60 year service life, in support of both the Olympus Mars program and Destiny Lunar program - with some proposals launching the ACEV system coming later. Safety improvements from lessons learned on the shuttle system would ensure a high success rate in the nearly 350 flights of the program, with loss of only one OPAV vehicle, Perseverance, during a cargo delivery flight. Ultimately, the vehicle would be repaired and placed in storage, while a flight spare, later to be named Tenacity, would enter service. The system would continue to support large cargo missions throughout its life, retiring in 2047 in favor of new, more reusable systems such as Phoenix - a vertical take off, vertical landing heavy lift system and Hydra, a vertical take off horizontal landing system that shared some commonality with the Shuttle and OPAV.

Read Proxima: A Human Exploration of Mars here.

[autisticabbey]

My DIY Pallas and Diamond Moon St. Patrick's Day and Cronos (Saturn Counterpart) puzzle piece socks, my customized Pallas and Diamond Moon St. Patrick's Day and Cronos (Saturn counterpart) bath towels set, my customized First Silver Star mesh laundry bag, folding laundry basket, and reusable movie cup, and my customized Two Moons movie cup (For representing Drew Barrymore)

[winterandwords]

Happy STS. If you're feeling up to searching, would you show us pictures of what you think your characters flasks would look like. Bonus points if they have a matching cigarette case. (I initially said water bottle as an option as well, the deleted it because I was trying to picture any one of them carrying around a reusable water bottle and it wasn't clicking).

Thank you for an excellent ask. Not me spending literally an hour browsing for Noah's coffee flask and cigarette case 😆

I feel like this one from Larq would be peak Noah's aesthetic, but I think he'd spend more than £35 on a coffee flask, so I also found this one from Stanley, which is a bit more silly money at £100.

I don't think he'd buy himself a cigarette case because his relationship with smoking is too complicated. Buying a case would mean he was committing to it, which he wouldn't do because repeated attempts at quitting is part of his personality.

BUT I feel like it's a gift he would've gotten from a satisfied client at some point, like the silver lighter and the watch that are referenced in November Breaks.

This one is by Tom Ford for YSL and as far as I know can only be bought as a collectible for upwards of $2000.

This was a really fun product hunt. Thank you! 💜

Brett in no way has his shit together enough to have any sort of flask or water bottle. He's more the kind of person who figures out he's thirsty when he gets a headache, chugs two bottles of Lucozade, and goes back to dissociating from his physical necessities.

[theridgebeyond]

I’m at the gym, just realized I left my reusable disinfecting cloths I sewed just for the gym at home, hoping to be blessed by St. Fieri of Flavortown to make it all better.

[lonestarflight]

AU Space Shuttle Enterprise

Circa 1985 to 1987

From my Alternative History Post (link) this is how the Space Shuttle Enterprise evolved from the 4th operational orbiter in 1985 to the prototype unmanned shuttle.

More History on the Shuttle:

• April 1983: Enterprise is returned to Palmdale for her disassembled and rebuild.

• As a weight saving measure her mid-fuselage is returned to Convair for a complete rebuild to bring it inline with OV-103 and OV-104.

• to further lighten her frame, her aft-fuselage is rebuilt with similar materials as her sisters.

• Engineers at Rockwell suggests rebuilding or replacing her wings as well but NASA doesn't have room in the budget.

• May 1985: at long last, Enterprise is rolled out and joins the fleet. She weighs slightly less than Columbia. Her main issue is her wings are heavier and weaker than the other Orbiters.

• September 1985: STS-21 is Enterprise's first mission

• 1987: During the Shuttle hiatus following the Challenger Disaster, she went through a mini refit that saw her exterior markings change. (NASA in this timeline returned to the Meatball logo sooner than in the OTL)

Circa 1988 to 1993

• April 1988: STS-30 is Enterprise's first launch following the hiatus.

• December 1993: following STS-61, Enterprise is retired due to being the oldest in the fleet. Endeavour takes her place in the fleet.

• June 1994: Enterprise is flown to Dulles Airport, Washington DC, and is given to the Smithsonian for eventual display when the Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center is built. NASA retains the option recalled her if needed.

• 1998: NASA studies modifying the Shuttle-C software to work on the Space Shuttle and potentially using Enterprise as a reusable Shuttle-C. The reasoning behind this option this configuration would be a cheaper alternative to the X-33 program. However, while the shuttle could be retrofitted with the software, the shuttle would have less cargo capacity than the X-33 and still required use of expensive legacy launch facilities (ie VAB and LC-39). The study ends with only the software in a beta state.

• December 2003: Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center is opened with Enterprise being one of its major exhibits.

• November 2003: the Shuttle-C software is used to return STS-118 Columbia to Earth and with critical damage to her structure (mainly her port wing and some internal damage from a collapsed landing gear).

• May 2004: NASA recalls Enterprise to replace Columbia.

• August 2004: initial plans are to return her flight, unmodified. However, NASA develops the Shuttle-C software further and changes it's name to A.S.Tr.O.S (Autonomous Space Transport Operating System).

• New wings! Enterprise is fitted with new wings which are of a modified design and lighter and stronger than the wings of her sisters. With other upgrades and modifications, she is slightly lighter than her younger sisters.

• Some within NASA joking refer to her as Enterprise-A, as a reference to Star Trek.

• September 2006: to commemorate the 30th anniversary of her unveiling to the media, Lockheed-Rockwell rolls her out of their Palmdale facility to rechristen the Shuttle. In attendance, Leonard Nimoy, George Takei, Nichelle Nicholas, Walter Koenig, Christopher Doohan and Rod Roddenberry.

- when asked by the media, Leonard remarked she is still a sight to behold and is glad she will continue her mission of exploration.

Enterprise A (unmanned)

• July 2006: to test the A.S.Tr.O.S. during a return to earth and landing, a new series of Approach and Landing Tests (ALT) were conducted with NASA's 747 SCA (N905NA) at the Dryden Flight Research Center, Edwards Air Force Base. 15 flights are flown to put the software in the real world, with two astronauts on board to step in when needed. Barring some higher than normal landing speeds, the software passes all of its objectives.

• It should be noted, while the rebuilt Enterprise is mainly used as an unmanned orbiter, this is a misnomer. It is more accurate to call her a hybrid shuttle. NASA has the option to convert her back into a manned shuttle if desired or needed.

- This nearly was used in 2015 during STS-154. Space Shuttle Atlantis was after conducting maintenance/upgrades on the Hubble Space Telescope (HST), the crew was unable to disconnect the shuttle from the telescope. CTS-48 Enterprise was already on LC-39B for a cargo mission to the International Space Station. All that was needed was to remove supplies from the payload bay and reinstall the seats in her crew space. Fortunately, this rescue wasn't needed as the Astronauts conducted an unscheduled EVA and manually disconnected the Shuttle from the HST.

• November 2008: first flight of Enterprise-A (CTS-11)

• When Columbia was given a cosmic restoration for her display, the first set of wings from Enterprise was used to replace her damaged one.

• 2019: Enterprise is retired for the final time following CTS-74.

• 2020: Enterprise is on display at Space Center Houston with the restored Star Trek Galileo Shuttlecraft prop.

Original artwork by bagera3005: link, link, link

[xtruss]

SHUTTLE FERRY! If weather conditions are favorable, returning Space Shuttles land at Kennedy Space Center. Florida storms, however, frequently divert the shuttle to Edwards Air Force Base in California. The shuttle then hitches a ride back to Florida on one of two commercial Boeing 747 airplanes modified for space shuttle piggybacking. Officially called shuttle carrier aircraft, the planes are bolstered with struts, stabilizers, and electronic monitors. Photograph courtesy NASA/Carla Thomas

DISCOVERY LIFTOFF! U.S. Space Shuttle Discovery blasts off from NASA's Kennedy Space Center in Florida, heading for the International Space Station. The world's first reusable spacecraft, the space shuttle launches like a rocket, maneuvers in orbit like a spacecraft, and lands like an airplane. There are three shuttles now in operation: Discovery, Atlantis, and Endeavour. Photograph courtesy NASA

ATLANTIS LIFTOFF! Observers watch as Space Shuttle Atlantis launches on a mission to deliver a new segment of the International Space Station's backbone, known as the truss, to the orbiting laboratory. The shuttle has the most reliable launch record of any rocket now in operation. Since 1981, it has boosted more than 3 million pounds (1.36 million kilograms) of cargo into orbit. Photograph courtesy NASA/Jim Grossmann

SPACE SHUTTLE ATLANTIS! Space Shuttle Atlantis takes flight on December 2, 1988, reaching a speed of over 17,000 miles an hour (27,000 kilometers an hour) in just 8.5 minutes. It will need such a velocity to defeat gravity and stay within the launch window—the time or set of times during a given day that the shuttle can launch, still meet mission objectives, and stay within safety guidelines. Photograph courtesy NASA

CHALLENGER EXPLOSION! On January 28, 1986, about 76 seconds into its launch, fragments of Space Shuttle Challenger are seen tumbling against a background of fire, smoke, and vaporized propellants. The left solid rocket booster continues to fly, still thrusting. Later investigations found that faulty O-rings were to blame for the accident, in which all seven crew members died. It was the first such tragedy in shuttle history. Photograph courtesy NASA

ATLANTIS AND MIR! On June 29, 1995, Atlantis became the First Space Shuttle to dock at Russia's Mir space station. A Russian Mir-19 cosmonaut snapped this photo on July 4 after a brief scientific joyride on the Soyuz Spacecraft. This mission, STS-71, had a number of additional historic firsts: It was the hundredth U.S. human space launch conducted from Cape Canaveral, Florida, and it included the largest spacewalk ever undertaken in orbit and the first on-orbit change of shuttle crew. Photograph courtesy NASA

DISCOVERY ROLL-OUT! Carrying Discovery, NASA's crawler transporter creeps along at 1 mile an hour (1.6 kilometers an hour). The trip from the Vehicle Assembly Building to the launchpad takes about five hours, and the crawler burns about 150 gallons (570 liters) of diesel fuel every mile. Photograph courtesy NASA

SHUTTLE LANDING! Space Shuttle Discovery touches down at the Shuttle Landing Facility at NASA's Kennedy Space Center in Florida. The runway is 15,000 feet (4,600 meters) long and 300 feet (90 meters) wide, about twice the size of the average commercial runway. The pavement is made of 16-inch-thick (41-centimeter-thick), high-friction concrete grooved to drain water and add extra friction. Scientists went a little overboard with the friction at first and had to grind down the pavement a bit after several complicated landings. Photograph courtesy NASA

COLUMBIA LAUNCH! Space Shuttle Columbia, seen here launching in 1993, paved a brilliant legacy before its tragic end. The shuttle disintegrated over east Texas on its landing descent to Kennedy Space Center on February 1, 2003, at the conclusion of a microgravity research mission. Columbia was the oldest orbiter in the fleet and the first shuttle to orbit Earth. It was also the heaviest, weighing 178,000 pounds (80,800 kilograms). Photograph courtesy NASA

ENDEAVOUR LAUNCH! Framed by billowing clouds of smoke, the Space Shuttle Endeavour launches at night on March 11, 2008, headed for the International Space Station. During the more than two-week trip, astronauts conducted spacewalks and started the installation of a modular laboratory. The mission, STS-123, was NASA's 122nd space shuttle mission. Photograph by Susan Poulton