#so i had like no time to mentally prepare myself

[gf2bellamy]

lipgloss — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: you leave a lipgloss mark on spencer's cheek content warnings: nothing a/n: i malfunction when i see glasses spencer

You let out an exaggerated sigh, slumping forward as you rested your chin on your hand. Across from you, Spencer sat at his desk, completely engrossed in his work, the soft scratch of his pencil against paper filling the otherwise quiet bullpen. His brows furrowed in concentration as he made notes in the margins of his case files. 

“Spencer,” you whined, drawing out his name. “Do you think Hotch would say anything if I just went home?” 

Spencer glanced up at you, his honey-brown eyes softening the way they always did whenever he looked at you.

“I think he might,” he admitted, tilting his head slightly. “But you could always say you weren’t feeling well. Technically, boredom is a form of mental fatigue.” 

You let out another sigh, this one even more dramatic. “I’m just so bored,” you groaned, dragging out the last word. 

Spencer’s lips twitched in amusement before he returned to his notes. You stared at him for a moment, then perked up as an idea struck you. 

“I’m gonna make myself a coffee,” you announced, standing up and stretching. “Do you want one?” 

Spencer shook his head with a small smile. “No, that’s okay. But thanks.” 

He picked up his pen, going right back to his work. You lingered for a second before stepping closer to his desk, your lips curling into a small, mischievous smile. With no one else in the bullpen, you leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. 

Spencer froze. His pencil slipped from his fingers, rolling across the desk. His head snapped up, his face already turning an unmistakable shade of pink. 

Your smile widened. “What?” you teased, tilting your head. 

“You—” He blinked rapidly, his blush deepening. “We’re at work.” 

“And?” You arched a brow, feigning innocence. 

Spencer opened his mouth, then shut it, clearly searching for a response. Finally, he huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head before picking up his pencil again. 

“You’re impossible,” he muttered, but the small, fond smile on his lips gave him away. 

You grinned. Mission accomplished. 

You made your way to the break room, yawning as you prepared yourself a much-needed cup of coffee. The scent of freshly brewed caffeine filled the air, and just as you reached for a mug, you heard loud voices echoing from down the hall. 

Garcia and Derek. 

As you poured your coffee, you caught snippets of their conversation—mostly Derek chuckling about something Garcia had said, followed by her dramatic gasp. They had obviously just come back from their little break.

By “little break,” they meant sneaking off to grab food somewhere without telling anyone. Classic. 

Once your cup was full, you wrapped your hands around the warm ceramic, only to immediately flinch and mutter a curse under your breath. Too hot. You blew on it a few times before deciding to just endure the heat, making your way back to the bullpen. 

The second you stepped inside, you were met with two pairs of wide, mischievous eyes locked onto you. 

“Oh my god, it is hers,” Garcia said, practically vibrating with excitement. 

You froze mid-step, raising an eyebrow. “Uh… what?” 

Your gaze flickered between them and Spencer, who was now sitting at his desk, very clearly avoiding eye contact. His ears were turning a suspicious shade of pink. 

Slowly, you walked over to your desk, setting your coffee down as you eyed them warily. Garcia and Derek were standing on either side of Spencer’s desk, arms crossed, looking like they had just cracked some kind of case. 

“Okay,” you said cautiously, dragging the word out. “Why are you all looking at me like that?” 

Silence. 

Spencer, still blushing, pretended to be very, very interested in his paperwork. Garcia and Derek, on the other hand, exchanged a knowing glance before Derek let out a low chuckle. 

“You sneaky little thing,” he teased, shaking his head. 

“What are you talking about?” You sat down slowly, still staring at them like they’d lost their minds. 

Garcia gasped dramatically. “Don’t play innocent! We know what you did.” 

Your heart skipped a beat. “What—?” 

Derek smirked, arms crossed over his chest like he’d just won the lottery. “Your lip gloss.” 

You blinked. “What about my lip gloss?” 

As if on cue, your lips instinctively pressed together, feeling the slight tackiness of the gloss you’d applied earlier. Garcia let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking her head. 

“You left a mark,” she said dramatically. “A very clear mark, right on Dr. Reid’s cheek.” 

Panic surged through you. 

Your eyes darted to Spencer, then to Garcia and Derek, then back to Spencer again. He was already looking at you, and now it all made sense—the blushing, the way he had been avoiding your gaze, and the way Garcia and Derek were practically bouncing with glee. 

Oh. Oh god. 

You leaned in slightly, taking a closer look. And there it was. A faint but unmistakable pink smudge on his cheek. 

Spencer huffed, finally speaking up. “She’s not letting me wipe it off,” he accused, nodding toward Garcia. 

Garcia gasped, placing a hand over her heart in mock offense. ��Excuse you, Doctor! It’s called preserving evidence.” 

Derek chuckled. “Yeah, man. We gotta document this. It’s not every day you get physical proof that you two are—” 

“Shh!” you hissed, eyes widening as you quickly glanced around the bullpen. 

Your relationship with Spencer was still a secret, and the last thing you needed was someone overhearing this conversation. You shot both Garcia and Derek a glare, but they were absolutely thriving off of your reaction. 

“Relax, sweetheart,” Derek teased. “It’s just us.” 

You turned back to Spencer, who was looking at you expectantly, silently pleading for help. With a sigh, you grabbed a napkin from your desk, stepping closer to him. His eyes flickered to yours as you hesitated for just a second before reaching out, gently swiping at the mark on his cheek. 

His skin was warm beneath your touch. 

You tried to focus, but you could feel Garcia and Derek’s eyes burning into you. 

“There,” you murmured, inspecting his face. The lip gloss was gone, but his blush? Very much still there. 

Garcia clapped her hands together. “Awww, that was adorable.” 

Derek grinned. “Man, if y’all think you’re still fooling anyone—” 

Spencer groaned, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Can we please move on?” 

Garcia waved him off. “Fine, fine. But just know—this isn’t over.” 

She and Derek finally turned away, giggling to themselves as they walked off, no doubt already plotting their next round of teasing. 

You sighed, rubbing your temples before glancing at Spencer. He still looked flustered, but there was a small, barely-there smile on his lips. 

“You okay, genius?” you asked softly. 

He nodded, exhaling as he glanced at you. “You know they’re never gonna let this go, right?” 

You sighed dramatically, shaking your head. “Yeah. We’re doomed.” 

Spencer chuckled, and despite everything, you couldn’t help but smile too. 

Even if Garcia and Derek were onto you, at least work wasn’t boring anymore. 

[netscapenavigator-official]

I want you to point to the part of this post where I said there had NEVER been media manipulation about Mangione. What I said was

This isn't a case of media manipulation.

"This," as in the very scenario I laid out in the very first sentence, and the only scenario this post addresses because this is the scenario that inspired me to make this post about this scenario.

YOU made the choice to insert your own biases and interpret this post as about Mangione in general, and then YOU chose to pretend like you know MY opinion of him without checking a single other thing on my blog or internet existence. Pissing on the poor reading comprehension. This website never seems to disappoint on that front.

Also, I'm sorry you find the reality-checking POV cringe, but it's not my problem you prefer to live in a deluded pseudo-reality. We, as a society and species, have nothing to gain from rejecting reality and embracing impulsive and biased fantasies that only serve to distract us. By keeping ourselves oriented with the reality of situations, we better prepare ourselves to work with reality and change it in more effective and desirable ways, rather than constantly being disappointed and ill-prepared when it doesn't match up with our wish list.

I, personally, very much have a favorable opinion of Mangione, and I very much wish his alleged actions would've sparked copycats. However, you hadn't even considered someone could like Mangione while also wanting to have a realistic perception of his public image. I hope Mangione goes free. I hope there still are copycats brewing. However, I gain nothing but an inevitable disappointment if I try to convince myself that he's more popular than he actually is.

If further data comes out showcasing YouGov's poll to be incorrect, then I will adjust my opinion and mentality correctly. However, until then, I am not going to base my opinions and thought processes on a superstitious hunch when we have well-researched facts at our disposal. As much as I want Mangione and his alleged actions to be universally beloved, the data simply says they are not. Being conscious and aware of that hurts no one, and it doesn't change my personal opinion of Mangione in the slightest.

Also, might I add, your short-sighted, conservative-propagandized mentality of distrusting and wanting to invalidate polls & surveys is very alarming. Being distrustful of certain "facts" can be an extremely important tool when utilized properly. However, if you whip it out in such an extreme, declarative, full-force manner every time you so much as get a hunch, then you aren't radical and ahead of the curve. You're a conservative. Blindly trusting everything is bad, but blindly distrusting everything isn't any better.

“Luigi Mangione disappeared from headlines once the media realized people loved him.”

Bitch, his trial got delayed until mid-February because Prosecutors requested it, and his lawyer accepted. That’s it. That’s why there haven’t been any updates: There aren’t any updates. It’s not that deep.

Also, thinking Mangione was universally beloved is very much a Tumblr echo chamber thing. According to a survey done by YouGov, the ONLY demographics which “majority” support Mangione are people aged 18-29, and people who self described their politics as “Very Liberal.” That’s it.

39% of under 30s agreed. 32% were indifferent, and 29% disagreed. Every other age demographic saw disagreement surpass agreement.

47% of “Very Liberal” individuals agreed. 22% were indifferent, and 31% disagreed. Every other political leaning category (including “Liberal” and “Moderate”) had their Indifference and Disagreement exceed their Agreement.

For the average U.S. Adult, the survey concluded that 21% agree with what Mangione did, 37% were indifferent, and 43% disagreed.

So no. This isn’t a case of media manipulation. This is a case A: There quite literally being nothing new to report on, and B: Mangione not being as bipartisan-ly popular as most of you think.

[miniaturesuitgladiator]

Batfam x Neglected Mortal

Kombat reader

Notes: this is part ten to lucid dreams.

Warnings ⚠️: not proofread. Mentions of death, killing, and child abuse.

The room felt as if it was the perfect temperature. The bed was the softest you've ever slept on. And you were tired as hell.

But sadly, you couldn't fall asleep.

But you weren't quite awake either. You were somewhere in between reality and a sweet relief.

Yet your mind couldn't choose which to go with.

Your body on the other hand was begging for sleep ,but your mind just wouldn't listen.

Your ears strain on instinct as you hear steps walking towards your room. They're not loud steps but not quite steps either.

They want you to hear them coming.

You sit up lazily still tired from your restless night. Your door opens and you straighten up ready for whoever walks in.

Three maids walk in dressed in black attire. They look kinda like nuns but their way more stealthy then anyother nun.

They bow as the see you and shoot you a stern glare as they see you still in bed.

"Long time no see loyce." You say to the head maid.

These women practically raised you.

As harsh as they might have been they never left you without proper care.

Loyce was the oldest of the three. And the other two you didn't know if they were mute or just weren't allowed to talk. But they never spoke. So you referred to them as Emine and Kira.

They circle around your sitting form like cats watching their pray. Their studying you. Every little detail. They have to see what need improving..

"Get in the bath." Loyce says quickly. And you groan.

"I can bath myself. " You protest as you make your way into the bathroom.

They give you a stern glare and you shake your head not amused. This was their job. They needed you to be perfect.

Undressing and stepping into the big tile tub you sit down In the warm water they've prepared. The grab brushes and shampoos of all sorts. They rub hard against your body and you groan and try and push them away.

Which does nothing but earn you a slap on the wrist with the wood handle of the brush.

"Why does your hair look this color?" Loyce speaks up.

"I dyed it once. It's been like this ever since."

You can practically hear them shaking their heads in disappointment.

Once their finished giving you a bath you smell absolutely delicious. And your skin hasn't been this hydrated in years and your muscles aren't so sore.

Their quick to dry you off not sparring a second.

And looking out the window the sun hasn't risen.

Their hands work quickly to get you dressed. And into some comfortable under garments.

Looking into the big mirror the have you sitting infront of you can see they've washed all the remaining bit of dye you had once had.

They begin straightening your hair with a devilishly hot straightener. Leaving no trace of your typical normal hair.

Your hair perfectly straight leaving not one hair out of place. They do your hair into a simple half up half down hair do.

As the begin with your make up. Simple but elegant.

Pretty enough for a princess.

Finally finishing up with your make up they lather your skin with lotion and oils giving you glowy skin.

Finally putting on your big elegent kimono. Your ready.

"What's the rush?" You say as they hurriedly slip on your shoes.

"Your father wants to see you immediately. " Loyce says speaking for the three of them.

You hum and nod knowing your father is impatient man.

"All this just to see my father..." You say looking at your reflection as the spray perfume on you.

You truly did look like a princess.

"The king," Loyce corrects you. " he's not only your father but the king...keep that in mind princess. " loyce says sternly like a mother teaching her child manners.

As they finally slip on your other shoe they take a moment to look at you. Making sure your absolutely perfect.

"You've grown beautifully....just like your mother." Loyce says and the other two nod agreeing with her. You mentally flinch at her words.

'Just like your mother.' She just had to add. You shake your head clearing these thoughts as they lead you outside room and into the big hallway.

The sun is casting over the horizon and you can't help but watch through the windows as you continue walking.

This place might have been cruel but it was beautiful nevertheless.

You walk through the big stone walls straight to father office. Just like you did many years ago.

You feel more anxious with each step. And your maids can tell. The give you a light sqeez on the arm as if trying to comfort you with their actions.

The other maids and servants bow as you pass and admire your beauty.

Finally arriving at your father office your maids bow and you dismiss them.

They each give a kiss to your cheek just like they've done ever since you were a baby.

Their kiss is not something their forced to do.

It's highly looked down apon to show any sorts of affection in the castle.

But they do it to show love. To show they care despite their cold demeanor.

Opening and stepping through your father's office doors you see him. Or more like his back.

His office looks the same dimly lit with candle and a small window. The red tiles clean ,and shiny as it always is and the pale color of the room adds to the beauty and aura.

Your father stands with his back facing you. And his long hair is tied into a bun. You can see the little gray hair peeking from his bun showing change. His growth.

Though you've grown he still looks as tall as ever. Still taller then you.

You can remember all the time you've been called to his office before. None of them were good. Hopefully now that'd be different.

But you'd be a fool to hope for something so soon. So you keep quiet, reading the room and atmosphere.

He begins talking and his voice is loud and confident just like you remember it. And you almost flinch at the sudden sound but you stand your ground. Your gaze never wavering from his back as he lights another candle.

"My girl......it's been so long...to long."

He says the last part with venom most as if he's angry at the time you've been away.

"Tell me....did you miss me?" He questions and he still doesn't turn around as he lights another candle and you wants scoff but you don't.

"Miss what? Your cruelty?" You say and you wish you could stop the words that flow out of your mouth but it's too late you've said them.

He doesn't filnch and his confidence doesn't waver at your words almost like he was expecting them.

"Ah... so you've devolved my tongue I see.... A great quality to have but it can get you into alot of trouble."

He says and you can tell he's smirking he likes that you've developed something of his.

He like your boldness. Because you undeniably got that from him.

He turns around before you can come back with a witty remark. And for a moment you have nothing to say. Your mind goes blank as your eyes meet his.

It's almost like he hasn't changed. Like not a day had gone by. But it has...his eyes widen but not in fear...no his eyes widen but only for a moment because he's proud.

"You've grown so much..." He says his voice barely louder then a whisper.

"And you not at all." You say and you don't bite your tongue like you would've before.

He smiles and you'd remember that smile anywhere. He's proud.

Not of what you've said but of you in general.

He steps forward and you take a step back hesitatently. You want to stand your ground to show no fear but your mind acts on instinct.

He takes notice of your fear and a frown appears on his face not liking your fear one bit.

"I won't hurt my dear...Im not that man...not anymore. " He says and his voice is surprising gentle.

You've never heard him talk like that before. Not even when you were a baby.

"Only a fool steps in a trap twice." You say quoting one of his lessons.

He raises his eye brows as a response and nods agreeing to your words and wisdom.

He sighs and you can see it. His chest is heavy.

He's nervous.

He's cations with his words careful not to over step.

"And you are no fool ,my girl....." He says his voice defeated.

"But I am your father....or I was. And I'd like to be agian...if you'd allow me?" His words are small and humble.

Which is so unlike him.

So unlike a king.

It was almost pathetic...he was asking to be your father.

If it was anyone else you'd probably roll your eyes for the dramatic words....

But nothing about this moment was dramatic. It was.....kind.

Something that you had never seen your father be.

Watching the man infront of you saw him. Not just a king or his cruelty...but your father.

You snap back into reality. You won't fall into a trap twice... you are no fool. You remind yourself. 'Don't attach yourself to false hope.' 'Always watch for traps.' Is what you've always been taught.

But seeing it father so honest...so desperate was doing something to you...it was breaking you.

His hazel dark eyes search yours looking for any sign of forgiveness. But you can't trust so easily. Not after everything. Your smarter then that.

"After everything's you've done...I can't just forgive you.." You say and you see how much your words impact you father but his kindness doesn't fade at the sight of denial. In fact it increases.

"I'm not asking for forgiveness...just a second chance.." He says his voice is soft and everything's in you is begging you to forgive him. But you can't.

Your hurt. He's hurt you.

"You killed my grandmother.. you took her life. That is not something I can forget." There it is something you've been dying to say to him. The final bridge that he must cross before you let him in.

You want him to explain. And he's been waiting for you to bring that up.

"That wasn't me. That was my men." He says defensively but his kindness is still there.

"Exactly your men. You might as well have killed her." You say and your venom is fierce and he feels it.

He feels your strength. He feels your emotions how you channel it into power. And he fucking loves it

If it wasn't such a bad moment he'd probably smile.

"They didn't do that by my command.....their orders were to scare you. Not to hurt you or your grandmother. "He says and you can hear his words are genuine.

"To scare me?" You say confused. They were just supposed to scare you...not bring you back?

"You still don't understand.....I let you go. " He says and he takes a small step forward and this time you don't step back.

You scoff at his words. He let you go? Impossible. He would've never let you go....atleast Not without a reason.

It's you who steps forward this time.

"Why?."

You ask commanding an answer.

"I had to let you go..." He says and his words are hollow and lack pride like his words usually have.

You look at him and tilt your head motioning for him to continue.

"Whether you believe what I say or not...I knew I was cruel. I knew I was hurting you." He says and his voice sincere. His tone so soft that you almost believe that this is a dream...

"And I didn't want to....but it was more about your strength. About what you were supposed to be.... there were things I couldn't teach you. I was to young. I lacked so much."

His voice is calm and he's trying to go around the truth but you already put the pieces together. You truly understand now.

"You lacked skills..but my grandfather didn't. So you let them take me. You let him train me. Teach me things that you never knew." You say and watch as he nods.

He sees that you've caught on. You've read him before he began speaking. Some only your grandfather would've been able to teach you.

"Your grandfather...he would've never taught me the things he's taught you." He says calmly.

He steps away from you and sits on a small chair and motions for you to sit across from him.

You hesitate sit and he pours you tea. Just like he used to do after your training had went well.

"So you expect me to teach you?" You ask as you take a sip of your tea.

"Teach me? No. I've learned plenty from other masters." He states and you look at him baffled.

"Teach Kion then?" You asks.

"No. I want to teach you all that I know." He says and he watches for your reaction.

"With what you already know and what I can teach you...you will be great." He says.

"All I am to you is some trophy..." You say feeling angry at his words how dare he want you to be nothing but a tool in game. In his war.

"Trophy?" He says confused and offended. You had taken his words the completely wrong way.

"My girl... you are all that I am. You are my daughter, my protégé, my heir."

What the hell did he just say? Heir?

You were no heir.

No bastard could be heir to the throne. You look at him confused and stunned.

"Kion is heir. Not me." You say as you take another sip of your tea.

"Says who? I have the final say." He say firmly.

"I will not take the throne from my brother." You say. You know how much blood can be shed from a siblings fighting of the throne.

"It's your birth right not his. He's known from the day he was born that you would be my heir. Not him." Your father states in a matter-of-factly tone.

"You can not take something that is already yours..." He continues.

Your silence is like a silence agreement to him as he continues speaking again.

"I assume Kion has told you what sub-zero did." He says and you can tell the memory still haunts him.

You nod.

"Do you know how he killed her?" He asks and his softness is long gone now.

You shake your head wanting him to continue.

"We were asleep. She was sleeping right next to me....and he slit her throat....I didn't even hear his steps. I woke up...and she was dead. He says and you can tell it hurts for him to admit that he was weak.

Now that was deep shit. You think to yourself.

All this time you had thought that sub-zero had killed her to start a war and take the throne ,but hearing how he killed...something much deeper had happened.

"Why not kill you? " You say and his eyes snap to yours.

"That's the question I ask every night....in chess when you take the king what happens?" He ask and you answer quickly.

"You win."

"Exactly....killing me... the throne would've been his. He wants something more... but I don't know what." His words are almost true...but he's hiding something. But you don't know what.....

You don't press any farther knowing he won't tell.. atleast not yet...

So you continue drinking your tea.

His words are kind and humble once agian as he begins speaking. And you can see the desperation in his eyes as he reaches for your hand.

"A war is coming ,and I need you...So I'll ask you agian. Will you allow me to be your father?"

As soon as the batfamilys feet touch the ground they take in the snowy atmosphere.

"Where the hell are we?" Your mother says confused. They weren't anywhere near the palace. They weren't anywhere near you.

"The portal was supposed to take us to her." Bruce says as he looks at the small device that controls the portal.

"She's about 10 thousand kilometers away." Tim says and dick groans.

"It'll take us forever to get there...." dick says annoyed.

Jason looks around the snowy grounds as if searching for you behind every tree. You mother walks up to him noticing his distressed state.

"You okay jay? Is medicine that we gave you still working? " She says her voice soft.

"Yeah.... I'm fine." He says dismissively. It was clear that jason was angry at pretty much everyone for you leaving.

He blames them. Because it is their fault.

"I have friends that can help that aren't to far from here..." Your grandfather says as he takes in the familiar surroundings.

"How long will it take us to her?" Your mother questions.

"A week at minimum. We better hurry." Your grandfather says as he begins walking knowing exactly where he's headed.

Damian stays silent for the most part. He knows he should've been a better brother...he regrets everything...ever incounter ever word...

He finally feels the weight of his actions getting back to him...but it's to late isn't it?

Thanks for reading!!

Comments and likes are highly appreciated! 💗

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[s4svnn]

Out of bounds . JJK

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; his love subjected you to the true extent of deception, a merciless lie wrapped in the illusion of paradise, until the truth tore it apart - he was always out of bounds.

↳ Jungkook x reader

↳ 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: ongoing

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Chapter Thirty

The café was a whirlwind of movement, noise, and the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee. The morning rush had hit full force, and the line of customers stretched nearly to the door. The hum of conversation mixed with the steady whir of the espresso machine, the sharp clatter of cups against saucers, and the occasional hiss of steamed milk. It was the kind of organized chaos that made my stomach twist with nerves.

I stood behind the till, my fingers hovering just above the touchscreen as I mentally prepared myself. Despite working here for a few weeks now, the pressure of handling orders quickly—and correctly—still made my pulse race. The fear of making a mistake in front of a growing line of impatient customers was real, and as more people poured in, that familiar sense of dread curled in my stomach.

Before I could let it get to me, a pair of warm hands landed on my shoulders, kneading them gently.

"Come on, you got this, girl," Serena's voice came from behind me, light and teasing but undeniably supportive.

I let out a breath, rolling my shoulders as she gave them one last squeeze. "I really hope so. Otherwise, I might just throw this register at someone."

Leah, who was stocking pastries nearby, snorted. "Please do. If someone complains about the oat milk one more time, I’ll pay you to do it."

Cyrus grinned, adjusting his apron as he leaned against the counter. "I'll film it. We’ll go viral. ‘New café employee snaps—customers beware!’”

I chuckled, shaking my head. These three had been my saving grace since I started working here. What had started as awkward introductions and polite small talk had quickly turned into inside jokes, shared complaints about customers, and lunch breaks that felt more like therapy sessions. I was lucky to have them.

But right now, I had a job to do.

Taking a deep breath, I turned my attention to the first customer in line—a middle-aged man in a sharp navy suit, glancing impatiently at his watch.

"One flat white, extra shot, and a chocolate croissant to go," he said briskly, not even looking up from his phone.

I quickly tapped the order into the till. "That’ll be £5, please."

He barely acknowledged me as he tapped his card against the machine, the beep signaling a successful payment.

"Thank you! Your order will be ready shortly," I said with my best customer-service smile, though I doubted he even heard me.

The next customer—a woman in a bright yellow sundress—offered a much friendlier smile. "Hi! Can I get an iced caramel latte with oat milk and a blueberry muffin?"

I nodded, my fingers moving across the screen. "That’ll be £4.80."

She dug into her purse and pulled out a five-pound note, sliding it across the counter. "Keep the change!"

I smiled, grateful for her kindness. "Thanks! Your order will be ready in a few minutes."

As the line moved, my nerves gradually settled, and I found myself slipping into a rhythm. Order, payment, smile, repeat. By the time I glanced up at the clock, it was almost noon—finally time for our break.

Leah clapped her hands together. "Alright, team! One-hour break before we lose our sanity."

Cyrus groaned dramatically, tossing his apron onto the counter. "Too late. I lost mine halfway through that guy who ordered seven modifications to his drink."

Serena laughed, pulling her curls into a high ponytail. "You mean the one who wanted ‘just a hint of vanilla but not too much’? Yeah, he nearly broke me."

We flipped the "Closed for Lunch" sign, quickly shutting everything down before collapsing into our usual booth near the back of the café. I sighed, letting my body sink into the seat, savoring the rare quiet.

Leah stretched her arms over her head. "Alright, since we actually have time to talk like normal human beings—remind me what you guys are studying again?"

Cyrus leaned back in his chair. "Computer science, unfortunately. I swear, my brain is just numbers and error messages at this point."

Leah smirked. "Yeah, yeah. You say that now, but wait until you're making six figures and too busy coding in your fancy office to even remember us."

Cyrus placed a hand over his heart, mock-offended. "Excuse me. I would never forget you guys—especially if you all bring me free coffee in my fancy office."

Serena rolled her eyes. "Typical." She turned to me, resting her chin on her hand. "What about you, AJ? You never told us what you studied."

I hesitated for a moment before taking a sip of water. "Car design."

Cyrus nearly choked. "Damn, girl! So whatchu doin’ in a place like this?"

Leah immediately smacked his arm. "Cyrus! You cannot just say that."

I let out a small laugh, though my fingers absentmindedly traced the rim of my glass. "No, it's okay. It didn’t work out, so... here I am. Trying to take another shot at life, I guess."

Serena reached across the table, giving my hand a squeeze. "Good on you, girl. As you should."

Leah and Cyrus nodded in agreement before, in perfect unison, all three of them threw their hands in the air and shouted, "Period!"

I burst into laughter, shaking my head. "You guys are the absolute worst."

Cyrus grinned. "But you love us."

Before I could respond, the café door swung open with a soft chime, but it may as well have been a thunderclap with how suddenly the energy at the table shifted.

The air seemed to thicken as Adam stepped inside, his presence somehow eclipsing everything else. His dark eyes flickered toward me just for a second, barely even a glance—but it was enough to make my breath hitch. There was something about the way he looked at me, sharp and assessing, as if he was searching for something yet unwilling to let me find anything in return. It wasn’t just indifference it was deliberate, like he was making a point to keep his distance.

And then, just as quickly as his gaze had landed on me, it was gone. He strode past our table, heading toward the back with effortless confidence, his movements controlled, precise. Today, he was dressed in a fitted black t-shirt that clung to the sharp lines of his frame, the sleeves pushed up just enough to reveal the tattoos running along his forearm. Dark jeans, slightly worn at the knees, completed the look, along with a silver ring on his middle finger that caught the light as he ran a hand through his tousled dark hair.

I didn’t realize I was still staring until Serena nudged me with her elbow, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips.

"You sure he doesn’t like you?" she teased, eyebrows waggling.

I scoffed, finally tearing my gaze away from the door Adam had disappeared through. "Trust me. I don’t think dislike even covers it."

Cyrus waved a dismissive hand. "Nah, don’t take it personally. Adam’s just weird like that. He barely talks to anyone unless he has to."

Leah leaned in conspiratorially, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Yeah, it’s part of his whole bad-boy persona. Gotta keep up the mystery, you know?"

Serena nodded, grinning. "Right? The whole I’m too cool to care act. Classic."

I exhaled, shaking my head. "Well, if it’s an act, he’s seriously committed to it."

Leah rolled her eyes. "Trust me, he’s like that with everyone. You’re not special."

I forced a small laugh, trying to play it off, but something about that didn’t sit right with me. The way he looked at me—it wasn’t just indifference. It wasn’t casual, either. It was something. And maybe it was just my overactive mind reading into things, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that his coldness toward me wasn’t the same as it was with everyone else.

I forced myself to shake off the lingering thoughts of Adam and turned my attention back to my friends. Serena was still smirking at me like she knew something I didn’t, and Cyrus was watching me with a raised brow, like he was waiting for me to admit something.

"What?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

Cyrus leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Nothing, nothing. Just wondering how long it’s gonna take before you admit you’re at least a little curious about him."

I let out a dry laugh, picking at the edge of my napkin. "I’m not curious. I just—" I hesitated, trying to find the right words. "Notice things."

Leah scoffed. "Oh, you notice things? Sounds a lot like curiosity to me."

Serena grinned, resting her chin in her hand. "Mmmhmm. And what exactly have you noticed, AJ?"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that he stares at me like I personally offended him in another life? Or that he won’t even acknowledge me unless he absolutely has to?"

Cyrus let out a low whistle. "Damn. Enemies to lovers arc in progress."

Leah burst into laughter while I groaned, dropping my head onto the table. "Please. No one is in the ‘lovers’ category here. Let’s not get carried away."

Serena hummed thoughtfully. "I mean, you have to admit, it is kinda weird how he looks at you."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

She tilted her head. "It’s not just avoidance. If he didn’t care at all, he’d just ignore you like he does with most people. But he looks at you, AJ. And not just a glance—like, really looks at you."

Cyrus nodded in agreement. "She’s right. You can feel it when he walks in. It’s like the air shifts. And you’re the only one he does that with."

I pursed my lips, replaying the moment in my head. The way his gaze had lingered for that extra second before he walked away. The sharpness in his stare, like he was sizing me up—or maybe warning me away.

But why?

I shook my head, trying to push the thought aside. "Look, I don’t know what his deal is, and honestly? I don’t care. He doesn’t like me, fine. I’ll just stay out of his way."

Leah arched a brow. "You sure about that?"

"Absolutely."

Serena smirked. "Alright, alright. We’ll drop it. For now."

I sighed in relief, leaning back in my chair. "Thank you."

But something told me they weren’t going to let this go anytime soon.

And if I was being completely honest with myself neither was I.

Leah leaned forward, propping her elbows on the table with a sly grin. “Anyways, now that we’ve established the undeniable tension between you and our dear Adam—”

I groaned loudly, throwing my head back. “Leah, please—”

She waved a hand dismissively. “Fine, fine! I’ll let you live... for now. But I do need to know something.” She tilted her head at me, eyes twinkling with curiosity. “Has a beautiful girl like yourself ever been in a relationship?”

Serena gasped dramatically, slapping the table. “Ooooh, yes, excellent question. Spill, AJ!”

Cyrus smirked, rubbing his hands together like he was ready for some juicy gossip. “Yeah, come on, don’t be shy. We need all the details.”

I sighed, feeling heat creep up my neck. “I hate you guys.”

Leah winked. “Love you too, babe. Now answer the question.”

I huffed, playing with the edge of my napkin as my mind circled back to my college years causing me to debate how much to say. “Alright, fine. I’ve been in one real relationship.”

Serena gasped, eyes wide. “One? That’s it?”

I gave her a look. “Yeah, and trust me, one was enough.”

Cyrus leaned in, eyes gleaming with interest. “What happened? Did he cheat? Were you secretly a spy and had to break up for his safety? Please tell me it was something dramatic.”

I laughed. “Nothing that exciting. It just… didn’t work out.”

Leah raised a brow. “That’s a very vague way of saying something happened.”

I sighed, tapping my fingers against the table.  "It was in college and we were together for a couple of months. I really believed we were going somewhere.” I paused, swallowing the slight lump in my throat. “But then, we fought a lot and things got hard, so we thought it was best if we just parted ways.”

Serena’s face softened. “Damn. That’s rough.”

I shrugged, trying to play it off. “It’s whatever. It was a long time ago.”

Cyrus frowned. “Still, that sucks. You gave him months of your life, and he just dipped? That’s messed up.”

I forced a small smile, but his words hit deeper than I expected. You gave him months of your life, and he just dipped? My fingers tightened around the edge of my napkin as something heavy settled in my chest and my mind wondered back to my time with Jungkook, completely forgetting about my college relationship.

We had never officially been together. There were no titles, no grand declarations of love. But the way he kissed me, the way his hands found me in the dark, the way he whispered my name like it was something precious—it all felt like more than just nothing. He acted like I was his. And for a long time, I let myself believe it.

The way he always found a way to pull me close, his breath warm against my skin as he murmured things I knew he never meant. The late nights where we blurred the lines between friendship and something else, something more, until it was impossible to tell where we began and ended. And then, just like that, he was gone.

I swallowed hard, pushing the thought away before it could drag me under.

Leah reached over, squeezing my hand gently. “Well, it’s his loss. You’re a catch, AJ.”

I smiled, squeezing her hand back. “Thanks, Leah.”

Serena smirked. “And now you’re single and thriving.”

Cyrus wiggled his brows. “And possibly on the verge of an enemies-to-lovers romance with a certain broody boss.”

I groaned, covering my face. “I knew you were gonna bring that back up!”

Leah laughed. “We never let things go, babe.”

Serena nodded. “Especially when they involve a hot, mysterious man with tattoos.”

I peeked at her through my fingers. “You think he’s hot?”

She scoffed. “AJ, please. He’s objectively attractive. Doesn’t mean he’s nice, though.”

Cyrus chuckled. “Yeah, he’s got that whole I hate everything aesthetic down. Respect.”

I shook my head, sighing. “You guys….”

Cyrus glanced down at his phone and immediately cursed under his breath. “Shit! I was supposed to sort out a few boxes in the back five minutes ago.” He pushed back his chair so fast that it screeched against the floor, nearly toppling over in his rush to stand.

I chuckled at his panic. “I’ll do it.”

His head snapped toward me, eyes widening. “Wait, really?”

I shrugged. “Yeah, no problem. Anything to get away from you guys and your weird obsession with my love life.”

Leah, Serena, and Cyrus all erupted into laughter.

“We still have half an hour of break left,” Leah teased, wagging her eyebrows. “So don’t think you’re off the hook.”

Serena grinned. “Yeah, we’ll be waiting right here, ready to interrogate you again.”

I rolled my eyes, smirking. “Right. Well, have fun with that. I’ll be back.”

I stepped into the storage room, immediately feeling the temperature drop slightly from the café’s warmth. The space smelled of coffee beans, cardboard, and a faint trace of cleaning supplies. Rows of metal shelves stretched across the room, stacked with inventory, and I spotted the boxes Cyrus had been talking about tucked away in the far corner.

I walked over and got to work, grabbing each box one by one and placing them on the shelves. It took longer than I expected—the weight of them had my arms burning after a few minutes but I kept going, determined to finish.

After about ten minutes, I reached the last box. It was heavier than the others, and the shelf it needed to go on was just out of reach. Still, I wasn’t about to back down. I stood on my tiptoes, stretching as much as I could, gripping the sides as I slowly pushed it backward. My muscles strained with the effort, but after a few seconds, I thought I had it secured.

I exhaled in relief, smiling to myself.

Until I heard a soft shift.

My stomach dropped.

Then before I could react, the box tilted forward. I squeezed my eyes shut bracing myself for the impact but it never came. Instead, I felt something solid in front of me, a warmth that wasn’t there before. When I slowly opened my eyes, my breath hitched.

Adam. He was right there, standing impossibly close, his tattooed hand gripping the box effortlessly while his other was braced against the shelf beside my head, effectively caging me in. His sharp jaw was tense, dark eyes locked onto mine, his entire frame towering over me like a storm about to break.

I swallowed hard, suddenly very aware of how small the storage room felt.

"Uh…" My voice came out weaker than I wanted. "Thanks?"

Adam didn’t answer right away. He just stared at me, his expression unreadable—but something burned behind his gaze. Anger. Annoyance. Frustration.

Finally, his lips parted, and his voice came out low and sharp.

"Do you ever think before you do things?"

I blinked, taken aback. "Excuse me?"

His jaw clenched, and he yanked the box fully onto the shelf like it weighed nothing. The movement was forceful, controlled—but I could feel the irritation radiating off him.

"You could’ve gotten hurt," he snapped, his voice edged with barely contained anger.

I scowled, crossing my arms. "Well, I didn’t."

His jaw tightened further. For a second, I swore I saw something flicker across his face—something deeper, something raw. But just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by a cold, hard mask.

He finally stepped back, creating space between us, but the tension between our bodies still lingered in the air.

"Just be more careful," he muttered, his voice quieter now, but no less intense.

I stared at him, frustration bubbling in my chest. He didn’t turn around. Didn’t even look at me. And then, just as he reached the door, he threw his response over his shoulder, voice low and cutting.

I stood there, heart hammering, breath uneven, the weight of his words pressing into my chest. But no matter how hard I tried to shake it off, I couldn’t ignore the way my skin still burned where he had been close.

Jungkook’s POV:

The boardroom was a pristine, almost clinical space—modern, minimalist, and impersonal, just like every other meeting room he had ever been forced to sit through. The long glass table reflected the glow of the overhead lighting, polished to perfection, not a single smudge in sight. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city skyline stretched endlessly, neon lights flickering in the distance, but Jungkook hardly noticed.

The room was filled with people—team principals, engineers, sponsors, and a handful of other drivers—all engaged in animated discussion about the upcoming season. Voices overlapped, some eager, some calculated, some skeptical. Pens scratched against notepads, the occasional sip of coffee punctuating the conversation.

Jungkook sat at the far end of the table, leaning back in his chair, one arm draped casually over the backrest. He was here in body, but his mind? Somewhere else entirely.

He should’ve been paying attention.

Everyone else was.

“The new FIA regulations mean we’re looking at adjustments to the rear wing, which should increase straight-line speed—”

“Yeah, but won’t that mess with high-speed corners?”

“The simulations show slight understeer, but braking zones will compensate.”

Jungkook barely heard them. Their words turned into white noise, a distant hum that barely grazed the surface of his awareness. He stared at the blank notepad in front of him, the pen in his hand motionless. His coffee sat untouched beside him, steam curling up into the cold air, dissipating just as quickly as his focus.

What the fuck am I even doing here?

The question pressed against the inside of his skull, but he ignored it. He was the reigning champion. The next season was already looming over them, and this meeting was crucial for strategy, for preparation, and for solidifying his dominance on the track.

And yet, none of it seemed to matter.

Not the data. Not the numbers. Not the talk of performance upgrades and tire compounds.

He had everything—success, fame, money, power—yet an unsettling emptiness coiled in his chest, growing heavier by the day.

Jungkook exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face, willing himself to focus but was snapped out of his haze when an unfamiliar yet so painfully recognizable voice sent a jolt through his spine.

“Good afternoon, everyone. My name is Aylah—”

His breath caught. His entire body went rigid as his head snapped up.

His chair scraped against the floor, the sharp noise cutting through the room like a knife. His hand nearly knocked over his coffee as he sat up straight, eyes locked onto the woman standing at the front.

His pulse hammered against his ribs.

It can’t be—He didn’t breathe. Couldn’t.

For a split second, hope surged through his chest so violently it almost hurt.

And then—reality hit.

She had different hair. Different eyes. Her stance wasn’t the same. The voice was similar but not identical.

It wasn’t her.

His throat tightened as humiliation crashed over him in waves.

The room had fallen silent.

Every single person was staring at him.

Confused expressions. Raised eyebrows. Someone muttered, “What the fuck was that?” under their breath.

Jungkook clenched his jaw, cursing himself internally as he forced his muscles to relax, leaning back in his chair like nothing had happened.

Fucking idiot.

His heart was still racing, but now it was out of frustration—at himself, at the stupid hope that had flickered alive just to be snuffed out immediately.

He wasn’t this weak. He wasn’t the type to dwell on shit like this.

She’s gone. Why the fuck would she be here?

He exhaled sharply, the weight in his chest unbearable. Without another word, he pushed his chair back and stood abruptly.

“I need a minute,” he muttered, not waiting for a response as he strode out of the boardroom.

The fluorescent lights of the bathroom were harsh against his skin, too bright, too exposing.

Jungkook braced his hands against the sink, shoulders tense as he stared at his reflection.The man looking back at him barely resembled the version of himself he used to be. Bloodshot eyes. Prominent eye bags. Shadows lingering in the hollows of his face, making him look older, more exhausted.

He looked like a man who hadn’t slept in weeks—because he hadn’t. He ran a hand through his damp hair, his grip tightening slightly as frustration simmered beneath his skin.This wasn’t him.

He didn’t lose sleep over people. He didn’t get caught up in feelings. He didn’t miss people.

And yet—

Why does she still feel so close?

The thought alone sent another wave of irritation rolling through him. He exhaled harshly, turning on the tap and splashing cold water onto his face, blinking rapidly as the icy shock cut through him.

Get a grip.

As he made his way back to the boardroom, his hand hovering over the door handle, voices from inside caught his attention. Low murmurs. Whispering.

“Yeah, heard his designer quit.”

“No way.”

“Yep. Walked out. That’s why he’s been so off his game, he’s gonna lose without another car like that.”

Jungkook froze.

His fingers twitched against the door handle.

“Shit, his loss. That car was insane.”

Then—

“How much you wanna bet they fucked and then he tossed her aside?”

Rage ignited in his veins. His breath left him in a sharp exhale, his jaw clenching so hard it ached.

For a brief moment, he considered walking in there and breaking someone’s nose. But what would be the point? It wouldn’t change anything. No what they thought. And certainly not the fact that they weren’t technically wrong. He had tossed her aside.

So, instead, he turned on his heel and walked out of the building without another word. The moment he stepped outside, the crisp night air hit him, cooling the fire burning in his veins, but not enough to extinguish it. His shoulders were tense as he stalked toward his car, the rhythmic click of his boots against the pavement barely audible over the sound of distant traffic.

Then, with one swift motion, he yanked open the door to his Lamborghini Aventador SVJ, slid into the driver’s seat, and slammed it shut. The second the engine roared to life, a sharp thrill ran through him—the kind that came not from excitement, but from the promise of escape.

Jungkook gripped the steering wheel tight, his foot pressing down harder than he should as he peeled out of the parking lot and onto the open road. The world outside blurred into streaks of neon and headlights as he weaved through traffic, the powerful engine growling beneath him like a caged animal desperate to break free.

Faster. He needed to go faster.

Needed to outrun the anger, the frustration, the goddamn ache that had been clawing at his chest for weeks. The city lights flashed past in a feverish haze—skyscrapers illuminated like constellations, billboards flickering with advertisements he didn’t bother to register, the glow of red taillights streaking through the darkness like falling stars.

His thoughts raced just as wildly.

Aylah. The whispers in that fucking meeting room. His grip tightened until his knuckles turned white, his jaw aching from how hard he was clenching it. They don’t know shit.

They didn’t know how he had spent the last few weeks unable to sleep, haunted by the ghost of her voice, the phantom touch of her fingertips against his skin. Didn’t know how the race felt off without her there. Didn’t know how he still fucking saw her in the crowd sometimes—only for the illusion to shatter the second he blinked.

Didn’t know how he couldn’t step into the design company without expecting to see her, leaning against the workbench, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she examined the car. Didn’t know how badly he wanted to hear her voice, even if it was just to tell him off for being an idiot.

The thought alone made something snap inside him. With a sharp inhale, Jungkook slammed his palm against the steering wheel, a growl of frustration ripping from his throat.

The sound echoed in the enclosed space of the car, but it did nothing to ease the tension clawing at his ribs. Nothing did. His foot eased off the gas slightly as he reached the outskirts of the city, where the skyline melted into rolling hills and empty roads. He didn’t know where he was going—just that he needed to get away.

And so, when he finally reached a familiar overlook—a secluded spot high above the city, where the lights below looked like scattered embers in the dark—he pulled over.The moment the car rumbled to a stop, he exhaled sharply and leaned back against the seat, tilting his head against the headrest.

Silence.

Only the sound of his own uneven breathing filled the car, mingling with the distant hum of the city below. After a long moment, he pushed open the door and stepped out.

The night air was cool against his overheated skin, the wind carrying the faint scent of rain. He leaned against the hood of the car, eyes locked on the horizon as he took slow, measured breaths, trying to calm the storm raging inside him.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, gripping the back of his neck as frustration curled through his muscles.

Then his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, his stomach twisting when he saw the notification.

Jade: Where are you?

His jaw tightened. Without hesitation, he locked the screen and shoved the phone back into his pocket. A bitter laugh escaped him.

Of course she knows.

She had been hanging off his arm for weeks, showing up at every afterparty, slipping into his bed like she belonged there. But no matter how much he tried to lose himself in her, no matter how much he let her touch him, whisper his name—

She wasn’t her.

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he stared out at the city below.

“For fuck sake just give me a sign.”

A bolt of lightning split the sky, illuminating the darkness for a fraction of a second. Jungkook flinched as the deafening sound echoed across the hills. Rain poured down in thick sheets, drenching him within seconds. His shirt clinging to his skin, droplets sliding down his face, his wet hair falling into his eyes.

He let out a breathless laugh, shoving his hair back as he stood in the middle of the storm. His chest rose and fell unevenly as he tilted his head back, eyes locked onto the raging sky above. His voice was hoarse when he spoke, barely above a whisper.

“So this is what love feels like.”

His fingers curled at his sides.

A bitter smile tugged at his lips as the rain pounded against his skin, cold and relentless. He let the weight of the words settle over him, let them sink into his bones, let them carve themselves into the spaces she had unknowingly left behind.

Then, with a hollow laugh, he whispered into the storm—

“What a fucking joke.”

[bungee-gum-b1tch]

mayhaps i have acquired a new hyperfixation

[lokh]

fastest way to piss me off is to try and add something to a task im in the middle of doing because 'youre already doing it so this shouldnt be extra work tee hee' THATS NOT HOW THIS WORKS

[savage-rhi]

🫂

[asinglesock]

Also it feels so good to be taking classes again even though the subject is human development and at-home care instead of literature or religion. I'm nervous about the practical skills exams, especially for very personal tasks, but I'm just going to do my best and leave it at that.

[phagodyke]

this is like my fourth or fifth consecutive bad gym session I might as well just kill myself

[caffeinatedopossum]

Ok so apparently it's not normal that whenever someone goes to a restaurant and I'm with them, I expect them to get just themselves food and then we leave. Like if you get me food or ask if I want anything I will in fact look at you like you're a stranger who just walked up and offered me a 100 dollar bill

[desastre-fag]

i love that i gaslight myself when my feelings get hurt. im like no you are being a major pussy right now !!! instead of just being like ok yea that hurt my feelings and im allowed to feel that way.

[ourceliumnetwork]

yeah guys idk I'm just thinking maybe the lightheadedness and desire to sit down about halfway through putting away groceries my whole life might not have just been a reaction to the way my parents were when i was a kid and the accompanying anxiety and sudden flurry of movement, but also possibly maybe i have a Health Thing about this...

[starlit-roses-ships]

don’t you love it when you just burst into tears in front of someone and basically have an anxiety attack over something that is not even a big deal in the slightest 🙃🙃🙃

[oasatelematics]

also it feels like my brain is fried, it's quite hard to gather my thoughts consistently.... it was much worse when my symptoms peaked a couple days ago but i can still feel it lingering

[floral-hex]

It’s almost 6 in the morning. Can’t sleep. Admittedly lonely. So I’ll type a little text post to feel like I’m actually “doing” something.

Doubled my vilazadone. Started buspirone. I’ve been on a diuretic for my ears (it’s complicated) for about a week now, but whether it’s coincidental or not, my hearing has been pretty great since I started. But hearing comes and goes, so we’ll see if this holds in the coming weeks. My body is having trouble adjusting to all of these new meds, but I think it’s starting to rebalance itself. Chemicals, man…

Okay, I really don’t know what else to say here. Just bored on a Saturday night… well, now Sunday morning. Might go eat some captain crunch. I just started the buspirone and I think it’s maybe making me.. eeeeee 😬😬😬😬… you get it? Not anxious, just on edge. They said take before bed to get used to it, but maybe they meant “hey, take as you’re falling asleep, because if you’re awake when it kicks in, you will stay awake.” Or maybe it’s just normal loneliness and anxiety keeping me up. Who knows. This seems like a downer post, yeah? Sorry. It’ll be positive, ya. I’ll go make some cereal, watch some tv, you all can do whatever you’re doing this morning. There are some birds chirping outside, I’ll see if my cats are awake, it’ll be nice.

[erythristicbones]

catch me deliberately ignoring the fact that i will not be seeing my gf for 2 weeks