#the only guy here who can math is the only one without a college degree

[chaos-coming]

This past year has been my personal discovery that a lot of people are really bad at math. Abd that 'bad at math' does not mean what i thought it did

[umbra-borealis]

Dimitri Lousteau is the most 'human' villain in Sly Cooper

Hello and welcome to my TEDtalk, I've been meaning to type out my yapping for a long time but always talked myself out of it because I mean, this is coming from a guy with Dimitri for a pfp and I figured people would just take it as a guy on tumblr simping for a weird lizard but no. The reasons I care for Dimitri the way I do goes pretty deep and I could sit here and talk about it point by point but to save us both some time (and because I am DEAD tired) I made a graph!

I used Luciano, my little sona, to personify myself in this.

I focused mainly on formative things and similarities in personality without inserting headcanons, even if based on traits or even symptoms I recognize. Most of these are rather straight forward but some run a little deeper. The funny pattern here (maybe aside from the drug thing lol) is that there's a high likelihood that you reading this right now can at least relate to just one or two things on those list and while you could argue that you could do the same with other characters, I picked these traits because in my opinion they ride that thin line between just relatable enough to apply to a lot of people, but not too superficial to be on the same an interest or hobby. Anyone can get upset when angry, it's HOW you express that anger that says something about you as a person for instance.

I also want to quickly mention that yes, a LOT of characters in Sly Cooper are very human, but I said 'villain' for a reason. After all I don't think your average college kid can relate to Contessa, Rajan or Panda King because mass brainwashing, destroying villages and being a literal drug lord are bordering on supervillain and that's not what Dimitri is. A supervillain can be relatable to a degree as well, but it makes sense that the Panda King had to have a whole Moment TM (several really) to come to terms with the kind of person he allowed himself to become. When we see Dimitri in Sly 3, he seems to have already done this perhaps because his sins aren't nearly as great. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

I'll insert a read-more here but I'd like to ask you to keep reading anyway if you can because my biggest pet peeve is that Dimitri is seen as a dumb, sleazy (and old??? which is dumb and I got math to back up that he's not in fact in his 40s during Sly 2 lmao) lizard who's only good as a level 1 boss for beginners to learn the game and all he's remembered for, though fair, is his manner of speech and not what he's REALLY saying. None of you ever picked up on what he was throwing down so I'm going to spell it out for you.

(PS I have ADHD and it's 3 AM so go easy on me this is coming from the HEART baby)

To make it easier on myself and you, I'm going to start sectioning the word soup in my head into four categories based on Dimitri's enterprises and roles and just kinda... waffle on about my thoughts regarding them. I'll start superficial and work my way down to the Deep Shit. Feel free to skip around to whatever interests you since I include some lore too, though changes are you're already aware of said lore.

Lets start with:

Dimiti, the club manager.

Nightclubs, and the people that run them tend to have a bit of a sleazy stereotype attached to them, which I suppose is fair. Though a large chunk is attributed to movies and other media, there were in fact some really large and important movements surrounding nightlife and club culture. Just look up the Club Kids if you want to go down a rabbit hole, in short they were a fairly large group of partiers from the 90s who contributed a LOT to fashion and art movements as well as being generally very fluid when it came to gender. Unfortunately that too would eventually be plagued by drugs and members getting addicted to drugs. Again, I digress.

Dimitri is seen partying in the intro of his chapter in Sly 2,

which is a nice touch because not only is it in-character, it's something that would actually happen. Owners of a popular joints would be popular or just enigmatic figures that would regularly get subjected to patrons schmoozing up to them. Some weren't a fan but there were many that soaked up the attention, bought rounds on the house when business was good, maybe get a little TOO cocky with confidence. It's a bit too simple to look at Dimitri in relation to all this info and say 'no doi he was in it for the money it checks out.' because if you spend enough time in his club or just, in the safe house after placing the bug there's signs of more going on.

We KNOW Dimitri is a criminal and he did his whole art forgery business on the side, or maybe it's the other way round? Either way he seemed fairly confident in his skills with this. His biggest risk being that time he tried to marry someone over a STATUE. (Really dude?) So then why was he so damn paranoid? While you could argue that he was sippin' his own supply I don't think that's what it was. He was so paranoid he played his music super loud in almost all areas of the club JUST to keep his security detail awake through-out night and day, whenever his club wasn't open to the public. To compensate he would promise them they could all 'retire early'. with that fake confidence chuckle that masks a sense of 'haha please don't abandon me'

So, ever heard of Imposter Syndrome? Because his behavior as a club owner SCREAMS it. He wasn't JUST cocky and sleazy, he was simply fitting in with the culture of the time because *everyone* was overly confident, over confidence was something to be admired, something to look at and go 'yeah that guy has it figured out' while in reality most struggled with something, anything. So what is Imposter Syndrome? To keep it short and blunt, the overwhelming feeling that you're not worthy of your accomplishments. We know that Dimitri is a 'failed' artist who turned to forging art to make money, it could just be a sense of guilt telling him something he's not ready to hear so he starts overcompensating and this insecurity bleeds into Sly 3 after Sly puts him in his place. His success with this insanely toxic coping mechanism lands him a new enterprise.

Dimitri, the Spice distributor.

Rather than going chronological, I'm going through the 'layers' that is this lizard. So if his career as a club owner is the tip of the ice berg with some neat little facts and info about the stereotype he conveys, this subject is a tier deeper. Dimitri the Spice distributor is Dimitri the next level criminal, or so he thinks. When you think about it, it's pretty strange that they gave Dimitri some Clockwerk parts at all. He was never mentioned by the other Klaww Gang members and thus seemingly not missed either when he was the first to get busted. In fact, nobody was upset that their DISTRIBTOR was arrested, putting a hold on their primary income... or so we thought until the Contessa was revealed to have a rather large and lucrative side hussle Dimitri probably could never compete with. Dimitri was expendable, sure he had a role and he played it well but he was also a loss they could cope with without much harm done to their wallets or their pride.

I think about it often, Dimitri in his jail cell, maybe hearing from another criminal or even his lawyer after the whole Clock-La thing about the full scope of the plan. He might've gotten a reduced sentence for ratting the other members out because if you think back to his legendary conversation with Sly he really doesn't seem to know what he's talking about. ("What is it with clocks bro!?") All of Dimitri's other crimes aside, he was young and naive, Sly 3 reveals he came from some form of poverty as well so it makes sense that he'd chase easy money. That's all it was though, he wanted the money and the fame, he didn't want to brainwash an entire city, he didn't know about the giant robot owl. He's once again left feeling like a failure, this time one that was easy to fool and all the confidence he had as a criminal would've seeped out of him, starting this weird cycle of him trying something only to be caught breaking the law and ending up where he began.

Like I said all of this would bleed into Sly 3 and it's pretty damn neat that for how little lines he had and how little he was on screen, they managed to convey this well in my opinion. By the time we reach Sly 3, most of us don't remember him as a Spice distribtor at all. Which leads me to...

Dimitri the Artist.

Being an artist is a pretty broad term and while we know Dimitri as a painter, I think he applies his artist mindset in way, way more. He's genuinely creative an smart, he thinks out of the box to protect his secrets and to cover his tracks. His identity as an artist is also his most vulnerable and 'real' self. Folks will say art is about self expression and usually mean conveying complex topics with pretty pictures or thought provoking stories, however it can be apparent in smaller ways too and the most obvious thing for Dimitri is his business in forging art. Think about it this way:

Picture you don't speak a LICK of english, you're from a lower in-come family or even straight up poverty but you grew up on tall tales of your grandpa being a total badass who lived freely and seizes every opportunity he could to make money... or take it rather but you get the idea. Your grandpa used his talents as a diver and deep down, you know what your talent is. It's art. So you somehow manage to move across the world to Paris, go to an art school work your ass off to develop your own style, your own identity and when it came to making a name for yourself you were rejected super hard. You're now probably in debt, in a foreign country and all you're known for is being the art community's clown.

One thing that gets overlooked is that Dimitri's paintings aren't actually that bad.

He very clearly knows the basics quite well, he's using color theory to shade and add depth but as he goes from student to independant artist, he breaks away from the basics and develops a style. His color use becomes brighter, he adds little stars just because why not? He likes em! This style is PERFECT for the nightlife club scene he ends up in down the line of course, but in the world of pretentious parisian artist hipsters? Absolutely not. So while he's just being himself, he's shown that that isn't allowed, that wont get him success. It reminds me of artists who say shit like 'I'll just learn to draw furry porn I guess!' thinking it's a guaranteed money printer (heh) and whether they enjoy making that kind of content is irrelevant, which leads to burn out or in case they DO find success, imposter syndrome. The dread that you do not deserve this recognition because it's not something you're actually that passionate about, not something you want to be known for. Say what you will about Dimitri but he never compromised. And while the cutscene shows shoddy painted depictions of classical paintings, I think this was more to illustrate him forging paintings to a younger audience than imply he was a bad painter as just before those crappy version, we see what's probably the REAL version he would've painted and sold.

This is conjecture on my part but I have to believe it because well, art forgery is HARD. You'd have to actually be a freaking genius to do it and sell it for so high, you can just afford what is basically a freaking opera house in PARIS and turn it into a nightclub. Also did I mention Dimitri just, HAS a ~mansion~ in Monaco? Because he does.

I've also always liked that scene for the expression on his face. It's smug, it's so full of petty, passve aggressive anger, a stubborness to admit defeat and instead to just 'prove a point' even if that point is lost to the means being SUPER illegal. That being sad, I don't think any of us feel bad over this man stealing a couple thousand from billionaire pockets. Billionaires that probably have their own little illicit ways to get that cash. Funny... It seems Sly isn't the only one who steals from other criminals.

And you might've stuck around this long and gone 'Umbra, get to the fucking POINT already." to which I have good news.

Dimitri, the Marine Iguana.

My favorite part, feel free to skip ahead to this headline if you want.

So who is this guy anyway? Well, from Sly 3 we see that he has a mother, a sister and his grandparents and that's about it as far as we can tell.

Just look at that smile! He looks like your average, awkward teenager. No struggling on the streets from what we can tell, no bullying by bigger kids, no weird sociopathic tendencies, no childhood trauma or grudges. The events that changed him seem to all have happened after he left for Paris. Sure it aint much to go off of but even if his life was hard, it seemed he was close with his grandfather and got to know him for a decent couple of years. Marine Iguanas are, like the name implies, an aquatic species of reptile. They're well adapted to land but due to low food availability in-land, they migrated to the beaches and started living off of sea algae, learning how to dive in the process. Even in Sly 2 the devs included plenty of references to Dimitri's affinity for water. The windows in the dancefloor area of his club are partially submerged, there are two massive aquariums in his office, he lives on a boat (or hides there anyway) and has several water features but inside and outside his club.

When you take a step back and look at all that, Dimitri is... just a guy who left his home country, his family, to follow a dream only to have that dream shatter and he's left to pick up the pieces all alone, making poor choices in the process. Choices based on anger and a broken heart. And the truth of the matter is that ALL of this, could happen to anyone. Granted in varying different ways as not everyone's life is the same and not everyone will make the same choices but I think many of us had a dream career as a kid only to become a jaded adult who thinks it's unrealistic or only does that thing as a hobby, I think there's many of us that remember the moment our hearts were broken and we realized the cold, unforgiving nature of real, adult life.

We see the effect of ALL of this come to a head in Sly 3, when at first he's not sure if he should still be mad at Sly for putting him in jail while he's currently the only guy he knows that COULD break him back out of jail as well. He still overcompensates, he's still overly confident and he put himself in that cell but still, he honors his word and helps Sly and Bentley find their friend. Then in Holland we see him behind a bar, seemingly as if he's actually got a job as a bartender there. Heck, he DOES have a job! He's the announcer! He may not super like it but he's being humbled by it all the same and when Sly comes for help a second time, the bravado is gone for a moment. He expresses genuine fear, not necessarily for his own safety but for losing a job, for *failing*. Of course the right answer in this scenario is to hype up his confidence again. And because Sly has proven himself to be trustworthy in the past he figures he can trust him with a favor of personal, sentimental value. If anyone would understand how it feels to have your family name dishonored and an heirloom stolen, it's Sly and Dimitri knows that damn well.

I think this is about as real as Dimitri can get, aside from the whole scuba gear thing. I know the gang is disguised but I don't think Dimitri is at all. I think that's just... what he likes to wear, further making me think he's just a regular guy with so much heart ache he lashe out in some pretty vile ways. Tortured artists are known to do some crazy shit after all. And while he continues to be his funny eccentric self we know him to be, he starts to have his first real moments of genuine care and loyalty while a part of the Cooper Gang. He tells Bentley he 'has his own flavor' which is his way of telling him that he's unique an valid the way he is. He dives after Sly's cane in VERY dangerous waters, risking injury or even his life, no questions asked. He sends Bentley postcards and letters to let his friend know he's safe and doing well. But perhaps something that hits me harder than any of that, is how angry and shocked Dimitri looks upon Sly's 'retirement announcement'.

Here he was thinking he made a friend out of Sly, and just like that he was gone. It makes me wonder if he held onto that grudge or not but a part of me likes to imagine that he didn't. I think his time with that gang made him realize that although he might not understand and he might be upset, it's not all about him. If anything he silently continued the rivalry by seeing how many girls he could cram into one post card with him to one up Sly's act of running off with a girl himself or perhaps he took it as a sign to make a career switch as well. Either way, Dimitri ended up changing for the better, he became himself in the end. A sweet, goofball iguana who loves the ocean and loves to paint. Making money became a nice bonus rather than his main focus.

Coming from a similar, rough background, having gone to therapy and trying to find my place in the world, this gives me hope. Hope that if I look hard enough, I can find my niche too and that being myself is the best I can be. If you read all this, thank you. I fgured it was best to just get it ALL out at once. I hope it was a fun read or made you look at Dimitri a little differently.

[invisibleraven]

"why are you looking at me like that?"

rulie

Julie dreams of him at night-a flash of green eyes and a crooked grin. Freckles that glitter like gold in the sunlight. Never a full face or body, just little glimpses that let her put together an image of him in her mind. She can hear the echo of his laughter, the tune he's been humming lately, but never his voice.

Julie has no idea who he is, but she knows she's halfway in love with him.

Which...sounds insane when you think about it. But she knows him, her dream guy. Knows he likes horses from the flashes of them she gets, that he plays a bunch of instruments from the different callouses on his fingers, that he likes leather jackets and red flannels.

She wonders what he knows about her.

But then she has to shake herself-he isn't real, she literally dreamed this guy up, and he just keeps jumping into her unconscious mind to keep her company while she's so alone in real life.

She has no one but herself to blame for that though, deciding to go to college so far away from her friends and family, for the adventure, to see if she could. Plus they have the best composition program, and her music has improved leaps and bounds in just a semester.

Sure she's made a few acquaintances and is friendly with her fellow classmates, but she's not close to anyone, not like she was with Flynn back in LA. She's tried, but she's yet to find someone she clicks with on that level.

That all changes when she decides on a new coffee shop to study in-her usual one was getting too full of hipsters who complain too loudly and tourists visiting to experience a real New England fall.

She's sitting at her table, idly sipping at an apple chai latte while trying to work through a dry theory book when a voice asks if they can sit in her spare seat.

Julie looks up as she says yes, and has to gape-becausen right before her, in the flesh, is her dream guy. The same eyes, smile, even the same clothes. She's sure she nods, but there's no way she can stop staring.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asks. "Do I have pizza sauce on my shirt?"

"No, sorry. I just-I'm Julie."

"Reggie."

And that's the beginning of it all. Reggie was another LA transplant, here on a scholarship to study math, with a minor in music before getting his teaching degree.

"Ambitious," Julie comments.

Reggie shrugs. "I've always been one to take too much on. But I had some really good teachers who all but saved my life. I want to be that for some kids one day."

"That is so much more noble than wanting to become a song writer."

"Hey, no!" Reggie protests. "A good song can start a revolution, can change minds, can inspire, uplift, console. Music is amazing, and without it life would be less living. That's why it's my minor, so I can teach both."

They spend the rest of the afternoon talking, eating the cafe out of half their pastry shelf as they hang on each other's every word. Exchanging numbers when Julie eventually has to run off to a night class and Reggie has to go work his shift at the local campus bookstore-his scholarship only covered tuition and the dorm, anything extra came out of his pocket.

And that night, Julie still dreams of him. Only this time she can see all of Reggie, can hear him talk, and god, now that he's real, he's even better. Making her groan because she is definitely head over heels for this guy she just met but has been falling for in her dreams for years.

She doesn't tell him that of course-he would think she was insane.

Julie just keeps on being Reggie's friend, the two of them meeting up at least once a week to get coffee, to study, to catch up. She meets his friends through video chat, and she is sure the guys think she's Reggie's girlfriend from the smirks she gets upon her introduction. Then again when she pulls him into a FaceTime call with her dad, she's positive her papi thinks the same, and she doesn't exactly correct that assumption.

"Are you staying here the summer?" he asks her as the semester starts to roll towards the end.

"Nope, heading home. My tia's cooking is calling to me," she said with a sigh. "You?"

Reggie shrugs. "I was thinking about it. Could take a few more classes, graduate earlier, and it means not having to pay rent. But I also really miss the guys, and the ocean. God how I miss the ocean."

"We're not that far from the Atlantic," Julie replied. "We could get a car one day, drive out to see it."

"I meant the real ocean Jules," he snarked. "But a road trip with you sounds great. Maybe before we both head home?"

"Deal," she replied, shaking on it. "Plus if we're both in LA you can show me the 'real' ocean yourself."

Reggie grinned at that, already making plans for which beaches he wanted to take her to, like she hadn't grown up visiting them all her life. But it might be fun to play tourist in her hometown, especially with Reggie on her arm.

The dreams haven't stopped either-and sometimes they turn romantic. Other times-well she blushes even thinking about those dreams. Honestly she loves being friends with Reggie, but maybe-maybe with the summer before them she should tell him how she feels.

Because if it goes bad they have all the summer to get over and hopefully come back to school in the fall and resume some form of a friendship.

So on the day they're set to take off for the coast, Julie dresses in a cute sundress, tying a scarf over her curls, because the car they managed to borrow is a convertible, and she knows Reggie is dying to drive with the top down. She feels a little thrill when he looks at her like she's a meal and he's starving though.

They drive, singing along with the radio, stopping for snacks and to look at cool little tourist traps, but eventually making their way to a beach. It's covered in rocks instead of sand, and the breeze is a bit cutting, but that only means Reggie tosses his jacket over Julie's arms when she shivers.

They tip their toes in the surf, shrieking at the cool temperatures, laughing as gulls mock their tone.

"Okay, I concede the Pacific is far superior," Julie said as they stroll further down the shore.

"Told you so," Reggie grinned, turning to face the water. "View's not bad though."

Julie has to agree-all she can see is stretching waves and sky, endless blue before her. She leans her head on Reggie's shoulder. "Thanks for coming with me."

"You know I would do anything for you Jules," Reggie said, soft and almost lost in the roar of the ocean, the cry of the gulls. But Julie hears it, and looks up at him, sees the way he's looking back. She presses up on her toes, capturing his mouth in a kiss, tasting the salt in the air, the vanilla chapstick he had applied earlier, the sweetness of Reggie.

He kisses her right back, the two of them melting into it, and a part of Julie is glad the beach they found is deserted so that she doesn't have to share this moment with anyone but him.

She blinks as they pull apart, not even realizing she had shut her eyes, but can't help smiling up at him. "That was better than any dream."

"You dream about me?' he asked, not unkindly, but she can hear the mirth in his voice.

"I've been dreaming about you for years," she confessed. "I thought I made you up until you appeared in front of me at the coffee shop."

"So I'm literally your dream guy?" Reggie asked.

"You think I'm crazy," Julie stated.

"A little," he replied with a shrug. "But I like crazy. And I can live on being someone's dream guy for forever. Especially if it's yours."

"I prefer the real you," Julie confessed. "But I have had a bunch of dreams since we met that I wouldn't mind acting out."

Reggie blushed, pulling her in so their noses could nizzle together. "Well darlin', you just tell me what they are, and I swear I'll make your every dream come true."

And it turns out? He did.

[moon-light-jukebox]

Learning Styles - [Reid x Reader]

Summary: Reader has worked hard to get to the FBI, but a misunderstanding has her feeling insecure. 

Pairing: Spencer Reid / Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Genre: Fluff

Rating: PG

Content Warning: Mention of normal criminal minds stuff briefly. 

A/n: I got these two requests and they were so similar I decided to combine them. I hope that’s okay, but I feel like the stories would have been almost identical. 

Requests:  - I have a fic suggestion. Reader pretends to be dumb but is actually really smart. I’m thinking of that quote about marilyn ���you have to be really smart to pretend to be dumb”. One day spencer realizes that reader is smarter than she lets people know.

- Hi! Can I request a spencer reid x reader fic where reader isn't great with numbers but brilliant with behaviour and humanities (i.e. literature, history, sociology, up to you)? Maybe a dash of insecurity to spice things up?

-- Learning Styles -- 

My favorite professor in college told me that everyone learns differently; what works for one person won’t work in the same way for another. We are all different human beings that are shaped in different ways.

I had always been oddly insecure about my intelligence level. One of my earliest memories was my mother yelling at me while I sat at the kitchen table when I was in first grade. I was the only kid in my class who still hadn’t learned how to read. I just didn’t understand. All of my friends were progressing so much quicker than me and my mother was losing patience.

It wasn’t until my grandmother stepped in that everything changed. My elementary school teacher was training children to read by memorizing sight words, a concept I didn’t understand. When my grandmother sat down and taught me phonics. I distinctly remember everything snapping into place.

I was in 1st grade and reading at a 7th-grade level by Christmas. Once I finally understood my learning style, I really began to thrive.

But no matter what I did, I could still hear my mother yelling at me, telling me I was stupid.

In my line of work, I see just how much the throw away comments that parents make can shape a child’s development. Luckily, those comments just made me a bit insecure, not a murderer.

Up until I was 22, I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to do beyond this desire I had to help people. SSA David Rossi had come to guest lecture in one of my abnormal psych classes during undergrad. After I heard him speak, I was done. I couldn’t have done anything else with my life. I had obtained my master’s in psychology before I joined the FBI.

It took some time, but I was finally assigned to the Behavioral Analysis Unit at Quantico. I was so excited on my first day that I remember my hands physically shaking.

Until they weren’t.

I can still remember my first day so clearly. SSA Hotchner had introduced me to the team, saving the “best” for last.

“And this is Dr. Spencer Reid,” he had said. “He’s our expert on…well, everything.”

Reid was my age and he had his Ph.D. I remember feeling awed by him.

Until I didn’t.

"I hold 3 Ph.D.'s in Chemistry, Engineering, and Mathematics. I also have BAs in psychology and sociology."

I remember my jaw almost hitting the floor. While I was impressed by him, I wasn’t insecure about my place on the team.

Until I was.

My grandmother may have helped me master reading, which opened the door to me mastering anything else I put my mind to…except math.

I was fine at statistics, luckily. You couldn’t get a psych degree without a ton of statistics work. But statistics was different, I could see the practical use of statistics. I just couldn’t wrap my head around calculus or algebra.

On my first case with the team, Reid had calculated some insane mathematical equations on the whiteboard, running down the probabilities and applying a mathematical formula to the unsub’s behavior.

It wasn't until later, after the case was solved when I was standing in front of the whiteboard that my confidence was hit. Reid had come into the room and saw me looking at his work.

“Don’t bother trying to understand it,” he had said. “You’d have to be a genius to understand what I do.”

I didn’t have a word to describe the feeling that settled in my stomach at his words, I wasn’t sure such a word existed. The feeling was cold and heavy, but also made my body burn with shame.

I had just offered him a tight smile before I left the room.

On the plane home I had made a decision. I was no match for Dr. Reid, I doubt anyone was. So, I would take myself out of the competition. I couldn’t get hurt if I wasn’t playing the game.

And that is how the next year of my life went. I allowed Dr. Reid to explain things to me that I was an expert in, never saying a word. I acted like I didn't understand concepts that I had written papers on. The only thing I didn't dumb down was my profiling skills. Those were necessary for my job and for saving lives.

I don’t think anyone realized what I was doing.

Until they did.

--

The team had been called to Colorado to assist in capturing a serial rapist.

All of our cases bothered me, every last one…but something about ones with this vile element really struck me.

We had the unsub’s name, Tyler Childress. He had spent time in prison for sexual assault and burglary. It seems while he was in prison, he spent time perfecting his methods; it was only by pure luck that we found his fingerprint inside the victim’s house, making him the main suspect.

When we paid Mr. Childress a visit, he had managed to get the drop on Prentiss and Morgan, allowing them to escape. Morgan was furious.

All of us were sitting around a conference table in the local prescient while we let Dr. Reid talk.

I was trying to be calm, I was, but my nails were digging into my palm so deeply I was worried I was about to draw blood.

“Guys,” the expert on everything said. “He has to have some sort of accomplice.”

Rossi just sighed. “But the profile doesn’t point to him being the sort to do well with others; he’s a narcissist.”

Reid wouldn’t budge. “I know that, but he isn’t intelligent enough to pull this off alone. He’s just not. He had an IQ test done when he was 20. He scored in the mentally handicapped range. I’m telling you he has to have help.”

“Are you sure, Reid?” Hotch asked.

���Positive. I have his results right here.”

“IQ tests aren’t a good measure of intelligence on their own.”

I was so startled that someone had contradicted Dr. Reid that it took me a second to realize it was me who had contradicted him.

He turned to face me; his brown eyes wide. “What?”

Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. “IQ tests aren’t a good measure of intelligence.”

Dr. Reid laughed. He laughed at me like my comment was funny. “I don’t know where you heard that,” he began.

But I interrupted him. "IQ tests are classist and oftentimes racist. The man who invented the IQ test never intended for it to be used as a complete measure of intelligence. He regretted making the test.”

Reid sputtered. “You…it’s not racist!”

“Yes. It. Is.” I ground out. “If it wasn’t it wouldn’t be illegal to administer an IQ test to a black child in the state of California.”

"Wait, it's illegal to do that?" JJ asked, her brows drawn together.

"Yes. There was a court case in the 1970s over it. Teachers were using tests to separate white children from black children. The black children were put into special education classes they didn’t need to be in. Just because the teachers didn’t want those children in their classrooms.”

I should have stopped, but I was on a role. “They’re also inherently classist. How can you expect a child to answer a question about Romeo and Juliet if they haven’t heard of it?”

That had Dr. Reid scoffing. “Everyone has heard of it.”

I shot to my feet, unable to hold back anymore. “No, they haven’t. Children in underfunded schools that don’t have access to resources might not have heard about the most famous play in history because their school wasn’t able to provide the materials to teach them about it. There was a study done in a remote part of Russia right after the IQ test was invented. Every. Single. Person. Scored in the mentally handicapped range. Because they didn’t understand.”

I knew my voice was rising but I couldn’t stop myself. “Once the researcher took the questions and applied them to things they understood, they all scored as above average. They didn’t understand math as an abstract concept, but they understood it when it was applied to their businesses, to something they actually knew about.”

I cleared my throat. “The test isn’t fair, it’s not equal. Tyler Childress didn’t go to a good school and he didn’t have a stable home life. You can’t use one measure to calculate his intelligence. He’s gotten away with 7 assaults so far that we know of. He’s not stupid.”

The entire room was silent once I had stopped speaking. I couldn’t bring myself to regret it though. What kind of person was I if I played dumb because I was afraid of being mocked when a monster was out there attacking women? No, those women deserved to have me at my best.

And I’ll be damned if I wouldn’t give it to them.

Rossi spoke first, his eyes twinkling when he looked at me. “Took you long enough,” he said. “But y/n is right. We trust the profile; we don’t let personal bias cloud the way. That’s how we catch this bastard.”

--

Later that day, we were cleaning up the conference room while the local police processed Tyler Childress.

Pathological narcissism is a complex disorder, but we followed the profile and Rossi was right. Hotch set up a press conference in which JJ and Prentiss took center stage. They tore Childress’s ego to shreds on live television.

His narcissism wouldn’t allow that to slide. He got angry, he made a mistake, and we got him before anyone else got hurt.  

While the cat was out of the bag about my intelligence and that made me nervous, I couldn't regret any of it. I got to be the one to tell our last victim that we got him. I got to hug her while she cried because now that he was locked up, she felt like her healing could begin. I wasn’t sure if my rant about structural racism and the classism of IQ tests actually helped anything, but that didn’t really matter. There was one less monster in the shadows.

Today was a good day.

I was alone in the conference room, untacking photos from the evidence board when I heard someone clear their throat from behind me. I turned my head to meet the wide, honey brown eyes of Dr. Spencer Reid.

Oh boy, I thought. “What’s up, Reid?”

He shifted from foot to foot, his hands twisting in front of him before he crossed his arms over his chest. “I asked Garcia to look into you.”

My eyebrows drew together. “I’m pretty sure any nefarious things I had done would have popped up on my initial background check.”

“Right, I didn’t mean like that,” he mumbled, the apples of his cheeks turning pink. “I asked her to look into you academically.”

Shit.

He went on. “You double majored in psychology and sociology before you got a master’s in cultural psychology. She pulled your thesis. I just read it.”

“I see.” I turned my attention back to the board.

“You also guest lecture on cross-cultural psychology at Georgetown several times a year. And you’ve co-authored two papers since I’ve known you.”

Meh, it’s three. But that doesn’t matter. “Did you read those too?”

I took his silence as confirmation.

He was so quiet I almost thought he had left, but the crackle of energy I felt in the air told me he hadn’t. “Do you need something, Dr. Reid?”

"Why didn't you get your Ph.D.?"

I had answered that question many, many times. “I didn’t need a doctorate to do what I wanted to do. I didn’t want to waste time. Once I figured out what I wanted, I charged at it.” Which was a far more honest answer than most people got about that from me.

“W-why did you pretend to be dumb?” he rasped out, causing me to look back at him. “32 days ago, you let me explain the long-term effects of gerrymandering and the complex causes of poverty.”

“Of course, I did,” I said, frowning. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“One of the papers you authored was about generational poverty.”

“Just because I know a lot about something doesn’t mean I can stop listening to information. That sort of thinking breeds ignorance.” I smiled, unable to not tease him just a little bit.

Reid took a step closer to me. “You didn’t answer my question.”

I just shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t have a good answer.”

In all the months I had known him, Spencer Reid had never touched me, not even so much as a finger brushing against mine when he handed me something. That fact is why I was so startled when I felt his hand on my upper arm, turning me towards him.

He licked his lips, his eyes darting around. “Did everyone else know?”

I shook my head, my teasing mood long gone. "No. I mean, clearly, Rossi suspected but…No, I didn't tell anyone else."

“I just don’t understand. You’re brilliant.”

I scoffed. “No, I’m not. I’m decent a psychology, sociology, stuff like that. I can’t apply math to behavior to find patterns. I can’t even calculate how much something is gonna cost when it’s on sale without a calculator half the time.”

‘What do you…” Reid trailed off. “Wait. The very first case. You were looking at the evidence board.”

Goddamn eidetic memory.

The boy wonder was on a roll now. “I told you that you’d have to…is that why you didn’t tell me?”

What else could I do? I just nodded.

Those brown eyes closed, and he let out a groan. “I said that because I thought you were going to…I was worried…” He huffed out a breath and opened his eyes. “I wanted you to like me. I didn’t want you to think I was just a nerd.”  

Now I was confused. “Why?”

Spencer Reid’s blush went all the way down his neck. “Well…I just…Morgan said I should just talk to you. But I’m not…I’m not good at that. I panic, then I start to ramble. Like I’m doing now…”

“Reid,” I interrupted. “I’m not playing dumb now. I really have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I like you,” he blurted out right before he smacked both of his hands over his face. “Oh my god. I sound like a child.” I thought I heard him mutter idiot under his breath. “Emily says that my IQ gets slashed to 60 whenever I see a pretty girl.”

Much like that moment all those years ago when I was a child, I felt everything click into place. Oh.

I couldn't suppress my smile any longer. I rose up on my tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Well, we've already gone over how IQ tests aren't a good measure of overall intelligence."  

With that, I quickly stepped away and hurried out of the conference room, leaving a stunned genius in my wake. When I turned back to look at him, I saw his fingers brushing over the place where my lips had just been.  

--

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comment/message to be added 😊

[ceilingfan5]

for the au thing i don’t know if it counts but i want more facts about the teacher au

you’re INDULGING ME I KNOW THIS but im gonna LET YOU bc i CARE SO MUCH ABOUT THIS AU

LET’S GO

1. taako never intended to be a teacher, he just sort of fell into it bc of a job he had in college, and then he started subbing and he was like. oh shit. oh. oh man. i could do this. and SWITCHED HIS DEGREE AT LIKE THE LAST MINUTE AND HAD TO DO A LOT MORE SCHOOL but he was SO MUCH FUCKING HAPPIER

2. part of the reason he got into it tho is that he was considered a “challenging kid” and he has So Many complaints about his teachers throughout the years. of which there were many bc he and lup got shifted around so fucking much, which didnt help with him being an absolute little shit who just needed someone to notice he needed support

3. he had a whole ass identity crisis when he student taught, and he was so scared, like. am i gonna fuck these kids up?? am i going to ruin their tiny little futures??? he actually started in middle school and went younger when he Had To Get Out of a job and he was like fuck it it’s only one year, i can find another school when this year is over if i have to BUT HE FUCKING LOVED IT!!!!! THESE TINY PEOPLE ADORE HIM!!! AAAH

4. he loves teaching them big words he loves teaching them weird shit to say to their parents he loves wearing weird shit to school he loves getting drawings he loves watching the lightbulbs come on he loves watching them learn to read he loves completely abandoning the lesson plan and doing a whole day on a weird question he loves saying batshit nonsense and backing it up he loves getting down with them and playing aaahh

5. also in this au kravitz works at a casino!!! ive done kravitz as a high school teacher in the past but i thought this would be fun also. he has a lot of fun with it and it’s both nice and hard that he works later in the day. like in the minific he could bring taako lunch!!! but then it’s hard that sometimes taako has to go to bed without him. it’s a tradeoff. he works in guest satisfaction and gets lots of gifts from his high rollers and fucking loves to treat taako and take him out to nice restaurants and stuff!!! idk how they met in this one but it was something stupid and theyve been head over heels ever since. everyone was like. oh my god thats not going to work. but it DID so THERE!!!! krav loves to listen to taako gush or complain about his kids and his day and hes so supportive and full of love fuck i love them so much guys

PLOT TWIST! YOU THOUGHT I WAS DONE BUT IM FUCKING NOT!!!!!!! @herbgerblin mentioned taako with tiny WIZARD STUDENTS can you IMAGINE!!!! FUCK!!!! SAME AU BUT MAGICER 1. they all have tiny wizard hats and lil safety star wands and taako complains every year that that shit is on the supply list but then they show up on day one all excited and vibrating and he has to try really hard not to cry about it

2. he still teaches fucking math and reading and science and art and shit FUCK a certain particular series. education rules. also i care so fuckin much about this listen i have an original story about a teacher in a super power universe and shes a villain but you probably didnt want to hear about that youre here for taz but if you want to press that button you’re fuckin in for it pal (ailem i know you personally love that particular thing and i love you) but THIS IS ABOUT TAZ

3. GOD that would be so stressful ALSO having to teach magic?? jesus when is there time for intervention?? FUCK! but LISTEN!!!!  teaching 25 little tiny kids cantrips and shit!!! oh my god!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! draw a picture of your handsome teacher with mage hand everybody!!! no! handsomer!!!!!!!! jamie you’re doing perfectly sweetie

4. this could have gone in the top half and would have made more sense but first draft only draft amirite BUT taako’s so fucking good with the “challenging students” bc he GETS them and especially in this au tweest he’s so good at calming a kid whos like. getting overwhelmed and having like a magic storm and like other teachers might be like god i cant believe i had to deal with another tantrum today and taakos meanwhile like sat on the floor with the kid and calmed them down and reminded them he’s there and made them laugh and cool down

sidenote listen maybe they arent all wizards. or dnd wizards. sit down. let’s talk about the class system. i have a lot of thoughts actually. what do you MEAN you want me to move on

5. IMAGINE MAGIC PROJECT BASED LEARNING!!!! FUCK!!! IMAGINE LETTING THE KIDS LOOSE ON THE PLAYGROUND TO PLAY MAGIC TAG BUT HE STARTS AS IT!!!!!!!!! IMAGINE A KID WHO STRUGGLES W READING FINDING THEIR FOOTING IN MAGIC AND TAAKO BEING SO FUCKING PROUD AND USING IT AS A WINDOW TO GET THEM TO LIKE STORIES!!!!!!! IMAGINE 

okay im calm.

[7cxrhye]

Guys, it’s high time I made a post about my math teacher this year. He’s one of my favorite teachers of all time and I’ve only had him for seven weeks. Here’s what I can tell you about him.

He’s a grad student, which explains a lot but also makes everything ten times funnier because he’s only like five or six years older than us

He always wears flip flops. It was 33 degrees feels-like-28 with snow and slush and he was wearing a polo shirt and jeans and flip flops

He once called trigonometric substitution a “pro gamer move”

He bakes pastries and then posts pictures of them to the class announcements page

He’s Floridian. Enough said

He makes sure to tell us a fun fact every class. Such fun facts have included that he once punched a coyote, he was almost robbed outside of a Turkish bath house, and that he once had a wild turkey in his college dorm room

He sometimes shows up at office hours that aren’t his. My friends and I went to the TAs office hours and he wandered in half way through and started helping us do the homework

Upon being asked why he made the homework so difficult (note: it took me and my friends more than ten hours to do, seven of which were done consecutively in an empty classroom from 7pm to 2am) he responded, “I wanted you guys to know, when thinking about the tests, that I’m the hero but I could have been the villain”

When my friends and I sent him an email with a picture of us in front of the blackboard covered in our attempts at coherent integration at 2am, he responded less than five minutes later and said, “ah I miss those undergrad days”

There is a running joke that we cannot make it through office hours without saying something that would offend him. He leans into the joke and deadpan stares at us whenever we say something stupid. When my friend revealed that she had made several Florida jokes on her exam cheat sheet (as a reference to those office hours) he looked her dead in the eyes and asked, “[name], what the fuck is wrong with you?”

I have not laughed harder in months than when my math teacher looked my friend in the eyes and asked her what the fuck was wrong with her. We were in public. On the sidewalk. It was 9pm after the exam. My other friend was leaning on a tree for support. I could not breathe

Finally, he has successfully made math fun again! My gosh! He’s done it. I have had more than four years of teachers who made math a chore and a strain and who made me question whether I wanted to pursue my goals and my major. This teacher has reminded me of how genuinely fun math can be, and for that he has my immense gratitude and respect

This has been in half a semester. Stay tuned for what happens before the year ends. If I were to make a bingo card I would include “posting a lecture video at ungodly hours of the morning, again.” By god I hope you have a good spring break Mr. [name redacted], you deserve it.

[iconic-ponytail]

there's always money in the banana stand

riverdale promptathon week 3: yellow + business

Even as the sun sets, even as the breeze blows, the hell furnace of July in Riverdale burns on. It’s triply as sweltering inside the tiny booth running three freezers, offloading heat to sustain the frozen merchandise inside. “How can it be so hot in there when we are supposed to be selling frozen bananas?” JB complains, at least twice a week.

She’s twelve. Complaint is her new first language. She complains about being left in Riverdale while Gladys went back to Toledo. She complains about living in a trailer park that usually does not have warm water. She complains about their father being imprisoned for covering up a gruesome murder. But most of all, she complains about working in the banana stand.

Child labor laws aside, Jughead can’t blame her for that one. He hates the damn banana stand, but it’s their best shot.

Gladys’ monthly check covers rent and utilities for the trailer. Everything else is on him, now. The idiot eighteen year old who decided to petition the court to be his sister’s legal guardian. Well, and his idiot mom who signed off on it. So he needs money, and the Jones family has never been particularly flush with cash, just trampled over by FP’s failed “business opportunities.”

Enter: the banana stand.

It’s not the fastest revenue stream, Jughead finds. But it’s got potential.

Initially, Dilton doesn’t let him sell during the Twilight Drive-In’s concession stand hours. Before or after the movie, sure, but no overlap. “I’m not worried about competition, Jones. It’s just too humiliating for me to watch you sweat through that horrible yellow polo you call ‘branding.’”

But when customers asked him more than twice a night when the banana stand would be open, Dilton caved.

It’s not like being open during the screening hours is a whole lot more preferable. He only just transferred from Southside to Riverdale High last spring; now he’s the rising senior who hands out phallic symbols from inside a giant phallic symbol. Not exactly a boon to his popularity.

Still, recently the money is enough to pay the internet bill and keep JB fed for dinner when she can’t go to the summer breakfast and lunch program at the local park district. It’s still not enough for him to eat particularly well, and the smell of hot dogs and slurp of his classmates’ slushies makes the heat feel like a minor inconvenience.

He eyes the tip jar, willing himself to wait on rampaging the concession stand until the beginning of the film roar dies down. It’s a double feature tonight, which means maybe he can score enough cash to cover those damn college application fees his counselor will start hounding him about week one of school.

Then he sees her—Betty Cooper. She’s laughing, watching Archie Andrews try to catch popcorn in his mouth, tossed by his paramour, Veronica Lodge. She pauses to sip from her slushie straw, her lips—which he’s watched argue against homophobic and racist comments in their advanced lit class, or pressed to the cheek of her other best friend, Kevin Keller. Which he’s imagined, doing slightly less savory things, though the mere thought of said imagining has his heart pounding wildly.

(Jughead’s been eating way too many fucking bananas. Someone needs to check his potassium levels.)

His absolutely pathetic gaze, once available three times a day in their shared classes where Jughead has still not managed to exert any confidence whatsoever regarding speech, eye contact, or general acknowledgement of Betty Cooper’s existence other than whatever drooling may or may not be happening, all of which he finds he has no control over… is all interrupted by the absolute polar opposite of Betty Cooper. Hiram Lodge zooms up to the banana stand on his segway, angling to a stop just before taking out the stand’s foundation.

“Still getting a hang of that, Mayor Lodge?”

Hiram grimaces. “Just checking that you’ve renewed your business permit, Jones.”

They do this once a week. It’s still the same permit.

“You know,” Hiram starts as Jughead rustles for the paperwork to make him go the fuck away, “I could find you an arrangement with a better banana supplier. For a discount. If you’re interested.”

Jughead rolls his eyes. “I’m not interested in your GMO, black market bananas, Hiram.”

Hiram gives him a pointed look. Jughead rolls his eyes even harder. “Mayor Lodge.” He proffers the papers, Hiram waves them away. “I’ll take one chocolate peanut butter dip. With peanuts.”

Jughead kisses his teeth. “That will be $3.50.”

Hiram’s whole face goes serpentine. “Not between business partners, Jones. Put it on my tab.”

Jughead grits his teeth, handing the finished banana so aggressively he hopes that the chocolate splatters and stains Hiram’s $500 tie. It is only slightly worth it to watch Hiram struggle with navigating the segway one-handed, frozen banana in the other.

He muffles a chuckle before realizing he’s used the dead end of the chopped peanut topping, and exits the stand to update the order board hanging on the outside. It’s mostly an excuse to feel a ten degree drop in temperature, a sweet relief he might be able to extend by grabbing a hot dog before the intermission rush.

He’s crossing off peanuts from the topping list and spinning around when he hears a shriek and a sudden, cold slosh across his chest. The yellow polo drips with artificial blue slushie, but Jughead swallows his fucking hell when he sees that the shriek, gaping stare of horror, and stumble in question all belong to his very own blonde kryptonite.

“Oh my god. Oh my GOD, jesus, shit, I’m so sorry!”

Jughead is frozen while Betty grabs about half his napkin dispenser and starts pawing at his shirt in a vain attempt to right the giant sticky blue mess all over his chest.

Finally, Jughead swallows the golf ball in his throat and chokes out. “Honestly, it’s fine. That stand is a sauna. I needed that.”

Betty stops, both her blotting and her stream of apologizing (which includes a fair bit of cursing, and he is a little revolted with himself by how much this turns him on).

“It’s going to get very sticky, soon. Maybe I should buy a bottle of cold water?”

Jughead can’t help himself. “Oh, impromptu yellow t-shirt contest?”

Betty grins.

I did that.

“Do you have any employees who could bring you another shirt?”

Jughead shakes his head. “Just my sister. She’s playing video games at home. There’s no earthly way she’ll bring me a spare.”

Betty cocks her head. “I had a feeling you were more than the silent back row kind of guy.”

The fact that Betty Cooper has, at any point, considered what kind of guy he is triggers full-on nervous blathering. “I’m usually very tired at school. I have this little sister—but I’m kind of um, her guardian. So I’m doing this stupid banana stand thing because it’s like one of the three assets to our entire family name I guess? Anyway, it’s hard to engage with Haggly’s basic discussion questions at eight in the morning when you spent the whole night dreaming about wholesale banana margins.”

He’s essentially vomiting words, but Betty is still smiling.

“Anyway, I should crawl back into my fruit-shaped purgatory and let you go back to your friends.”

She’s biting her lip, hedging. “Honestly, they’re probably using the alone time to make out in the car, and I’d rather let them get all their sexual tension out so that I don’t have to feel it radiating off of them for the whole second half of the double feature.”

Jughead laughs and tamps down the impulse to offer her a frozen banana, because he cannot possibly say something like that without making it sound sexual.

“What are frozen banana profit margins like, anyway?” Betty asks, either genuinely interested or legitimately flirting with him. Jughead finds both potentials baffling.

Jughead hesitates, then ducks inside the stand, pulling out his spiral bound notebook. “I’m still kind of figuring it out. All my records are in here.”

Betty sidles up to the stand, taking up the whole window. They’re both leaning over the scribbled line items on college ruled paper; he can smell her shampoo. She takes the notebook, scanning thoroughly.

“Do you have a pencil?”

He hands her one and observes her going to work, writing out some algebraic formula and calculating quickly in her head. There is a calculator within his reach, but he thinks handing it to her might come off as an insult. (Jughead wouldn’t know; he assumes Betty is in an advanced math class. Jughead is not.)

After a few minutes of watching her devoted focus, thinking about her hands touching his pencil, thinking about her hands wrapped around his hand, or his—

“I don’t know how to tell this to you, Jug.”

The shortening of his name stops his heart for a jolt, and his response is embarrassingly delayed. “What is it?”

Betty winces but smiles through it, a combination she’s surely learned to use when delivering bad news. It’s well earned, it really does soften the blow.

“There’s no money in the banana stand. At least, not with these margins.”

Jughead finds himself less than devastated by this news, mostly because it makes a hell of a lot of sense. The messenger doesn’t hurt, either.

“But,” she interrupts. “I don’t know if you’ve nailed down your course load for senior year. But I’m taking AP Econ? This could be, um, a good project. Like, if you want to take the class. Or even if you don’t. Not that you’re like a project or… whatever. I’m just saying we could figure it out. Make lemonade out of… bananas.”

Betty Cooper is extremely cute when she stammers.

Jughead doesn’t know what to do, so he gives her an easy out. “I can’t like, hire you, if that wasn’t obvious by the whole… deficit spending or whatever the whole negative circled number at the bottom of the page really means.”

She flushes. “No, that would be highway robbery. I just thought there might be an… opportunity. For um, us. I mean, for you and I. I mean—” she clears her throat, as if it’s closing up. “An academic opportunity. Or, in your case, professional. Well, a betterment of your livelihood. Okay, um, shit, just… I should go!”

She turns away, her face the deepest scarlet he’s ever seen.

“Betty, wait.”

She pivots back, eyes down at the ground.

“How about I buy you a new slushie and you come back into the booth. Tell me everything I’m doing wrong for the rest of the night.”

Betty looks up, biting the corner of her smile. “Sounds like a deal.”

They shake on it.

[johnkrrasinski]

dwindling, mercurial high

full masterlist

Pairings: Andy Barber x female!reader 

Word count: 2,733

Warning: SMUT!!! infidelity/cheating, age gap, unprotected sex, dirty talk, angst, lots of angst. (MUST BE 18+) 

Summary: based on the song ‘illicit affairs’ by taylor swift. things changed between you and andy, the man you’d been crushing on for the longest time, after you returned home from college. what was born from a single glance & stolen stares turned into a secret addiction, something neither of you could get sober from. 

a/n: the idea piqued my imagination after watching taylor’s folklore long pond studio session and i wondered what it’d be like to be the third person instead of the cheated one, thus this angsty fic was born. reblog & feedback are always appreciated. 

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

You closed your eyes as your back hit the wall repeatedly, you held onto him as tight as possible as you moaned in his ear. The bristle of his beard tickled your neck as he nipped your sensitive spot, causing your head to spin. The coil in your abdomen tightened, so did your legs around his waist, and you clenched around him, pushing him to thrust harder into you, chasing your orgasms. Your wailings grew louder and you cried out his name like prayer as his pace become sloppier.

Time became hazy as you plummeted into bliss while he continued to impale you, prolonging your release as well. You wanted the moment to last as long as possible as you presented your body as a vessel for him to obtain pleasure, the kind that he couldn’t get at home from his lovely wife. You didn’t mind that it took him longer to reach his peak, the comforting feeling of him being inside you was like cozying up to your favourite knit sweater and a cup of hot chocolate whilst it was raining outside.

But rains don’t last forever, and the sun was always around the corner, lurking to appear and scorch the planet once more, waking everyone up out of their comfortable place. And that’s what it was like being with Andy.

He groaned as he released deep inside you, resting his face on your shoulder while trying to catch his breath. He kissed you on the lips, claiming your mouth as you ran your fingers through his hair until he needed air. But you didn’t, because he was the air that you needed. Then he set you on your feet gently and he began putting on his clothes. “It’s stopped coming down, I should head back now, Laurie’s going to come home soon and I told her that I’d be working from home today. It’d be suspicious if I left the house without telling her.”

You nodded, “…okay.” But it wasn’t okay, how much longer were you going to have these clandestine meetings? How could you tell him that you wanted him to stay and hold you close just for once?

He slipped his feet into his shoes and untied the lace. You leaned on your hands against your study desk and watched his flushed state longingly as if you were trying to speak with your gaze and you wanted him to get the message because words would hurt both of you. He put on his coat and swung the hood over his head then stood before you, “are you okay, kid?”

No, how could you even ask me that? “Yeah.” He always asked the same question after every time you both made love but never once did you tell him the truth and he believed you. He kissed you on the forehead and there he goes, leaving you with your tears and fury once more without a single weight in his heart.

How did you end up here? It began last summer after you came back home from college. You were going to work in your father’s law firm once you finished law school and obtained your degree. Your father was a lawyer and had a good friendship with the Barbers since you were little. You even watched Jacob being born when Laurie went into labour. Besides living across from each other and worked in the same field, you were like a big sister to Jacob too. He was always a shy, introverted kid who didn’t make friends easily so Andy truly cherished your companion for his son.

You were always happy being a big sister figure to Jacob, you were both the only children so it was easy to bond over that. But what you’d never admit out loud, was also the fact that yous secretly had a crush on Jacob’s dad. What’s not to swoon over? Andy was extremely good looking, a good father and a loving husband. He was a top lawyer, courteous, soft-spoken and always treated you kindly whenever you came over.

It affected your dating life in high school because, despite all the boys asking you out, you never said yes to them. Because there was only one man that you wanted and you couldn’t have him. Even in college, you tried to forget him and seek for someone else, but even college boys couldn’t live up to Andy.

Three years went by and you finally returned home and were ready to start your career as a lawyer. Law and crimes always fascinated you because you believed that justice wasn’t as simple as black or white, or the good guy versus the bad guy so it came naturally for you to follow your father’s footsteps.

Your father invited the Barbers over for dinner to celebrate your homecoming. Laurie asked you about the college life and teased if you might’ve had dated a few boys and you nervously refuted the question by telling her that you were too busy with studying. Andy sat across you and you tried so hard not to make eye contact with him but you couldn’t fight the urge and you swore you saw him glance at you once or twice and he’d quickly look away once you caught him.

One afternoon, a couple of days after the dinner, when your father was at the court, and your mother was at her boutique, you decided to come over to the Barbers’ house. Jacob texted you earlier about his Physics homework and asked for your help on doing it. You were going to start working at the firm on Monday so you had plenty of spare time at home, doing whatever you wished for. You were bored, you had been reading books and watching Netflix all day so you decided to spend time helping Jacob with his homework.

You knocked on the door and texted him, “I’m outside.” You were a little early than the agreed time so Andy opened the door instead of the person you expected.

“Mr. Barber, hi! Is Jacob home yet?” You tried your best to keep your composure.

“No, he said he was staying for Math. He didn’t tell you?”

“Uh, he must’ve forgotten. He asked me earlier to help him with his homework and I thought I could come by early to hang out, but it’s fine, I’ll just come back later. Thanks, Mr. Barber.”

“You could come inside and wait for Jacob here if you want?” He offered.

“Um, are you sure, Mr. Barber? I don’t wanna be a bother.”

“No, please, Laurie hasn’t come home yet, and I’d appreciate the company. And just call me Andy.”

“Okay, yeah, sure. I’ve got no one to talk to at home yet, anyway. Except for my cat who only comes to me when she’s hungry.”

He chuckled at the joke as he closed the door behind you. “You want anything to drink?”

“Coffee would be nice, thank you Mr. Barber.”

He gave you a look at the nickname. “Sorry, I meant, Andy.”

“You’ve really grown since the last time I saw you, ____. You’ve even gotten good-looking.” He nonchalantly said whilst he was making your coffee. “Milk?”

“Huh?” your heart was beating fast at his flattering words. “Do you want some milk in your coffee?”

“Yes, please.” You gulped, mentally screaming at yourself to keep it together. “Are you saying that I was an ugly duckling, Andy?”

He chuckled, “no, what I meant was, your appearance definitely changed and I like it.” He served the coffee on the dining table where he laid a bunch of papers and a laptop and you tried to maintain your distance despite every cell in your body was begging for you to sit closer to him.

You hoped he couldn’t hear the way your breath hitched so you drank your coffee with shaky hands. He asked you about college or shared some advice in becoming a young lawyer. He also caught you up with stories that you missed while you were away. How he found out Jacob was bullied by this kid in his school and how he and Laurie had been arguing a lot lately.

“I’m sorry about that, Andy. But you two will work it out, what marriage doesn’t have its disputes, right? If you both had made it this far, I’m sure you can make it for many more years.”

“Thanks, ____. Be sure to keep that in mind if a guy starts a quarrel with you, okay?” He sipped his own coffee.

“I’ll have to find a guy first, I guess.”

“Are you not seeing anyone?” He gave you a quizzical look.

“No, just haven’t found the time, I guess.”

“Oh, c’mon. You’re an intelligent and attractive young woman. You should go out and explore.”

“And what if I couldn’t find one that I want, Andy?” You stirred your coffee, unable to look him in the eye.

“What do you want, ____?” He inched his face closer to you, making it hard to breathe. His ocean blue eyes bored into yours, with the kind of look that you never saw before. In this proximity, you could see how his pupils had dilated, filling the rim with darkness lust. And you didn’t question his intentions or what he was thinking but at that moment, you had never wanted him more. And you needed him. You needed him to grant your heart’s greatest desire. Him.

“You,” you voice was barely a whisper. “I want… You.”

“Say it, say it louder.”

“I want you, Andy. I’ve wanted you forever.”

Then as if the time had frozen, he slammed his lips onto yours, nearly causing your chair to fall back if only he didn’t catch you. Andy grabbed your face and kissed you with a burning passion. You shut your eyes, reeling from the swirling emotions in your stomach. It wasn’t butterflies but the whole damn zoo. Andy licked your bottom lip and you parted your mouth for him, allowing his tongue to enter and tangle itself with yours.

You whimpered and you felt Andy smirked at the way your body reacted to him. Andy then stood up and lifted you onto the table, and he slightly pulled your hair back, exposing your neck to him. He began trailing kisses there and his right hand roamed around your body until it reached the hem of your off-the-shoulder top and it travelled to your breast and he toyed with it, pinching the nipple and fondle with the globe.

“Andy…” taking your whimpers as a green light, he moved his hand down to the zipper of your jeans, fumbled with the buttons and he pulled them down just enough for his hand to caress your womanhood. Blood rushed to your cheeks when he felt your arousal. He shoved the G-string aside, allowing his fingers to stroke you.

“If I knew how much you wanted me, I would’ve made a move sooner, baby.”

The coalescence of his voice, his plump lips and his hands touching you all over nearly made you forgot where you were until the act was interrupted by Jacob’s voice from the door, “Dad, I’m home!” Andy quickly stopped his assault on you and let you go. You stood on shaky legs as you tried to smooth over your rumpled top and zip up your jeans.

Luckily, when Jacob found you both in the kitchen, he didn’t suspect anything and you followed him to his room, walking away from Andy as if nothing even happened. And that was the beginning of your doomed affair.

His infidelity carried on for months and none of you had found the strength to break it off. You knew it was wrong in so many ways. You always considered The Barbers as your second family despite your latent feelings for Andy. You’d be letting down so many people if they found out about this affair. Each time you both ran off to find escapism in a secluded place, you were consumed by guilt. Every time you told yourself that you can always stop, that he can always stop, you were choked with words. The desire has rooted itself way too deep and none of you could go back now.

It started in your room and once he’d grown weary of the atmosphere, he’d take you to a motel a little outside of town where nobody really knew who you were and it has now taken you to an empty parking lot. Andy laid on the reclined shotgun seat with his clothes off and his pants around his ankles. You leaned your hand on the window as his cock stretched you open from under.

He loved the way your breasts jiggled with each thrust. You had your shirt lifted just enough to display your breasts for him while your shorts and underwear were thrown off to the backseat. His cock was hitting your G-spot repeatedly, creating tantalizing friction. You writhed above him, screaming his name as loud as you possibly could with your mind disarrayed from his thrusts. He had both of his hands gripping your hips solidly, controlling your move as you rode him.

“After all the time I’ve fucked you, you’re still so tight,” He groaned. He moved one of his hands to breast, pinching the nipple and you mewled from the pleasurable sting. He slid his hand up to your throat, cutting off your airway, suffocating you. Your whimpers your muted but it didn’t stop you from moving up and down on him. His other hand slid under your body, he toyed with your wetness and rubbed your clit, causing you to clench around him. “You gonna cum all over my fat cock, baby?”

His filthy words never failed to arouse you. If anyone had told fifteen years old you that the man you had such admired and respect, though from afar, had a foul mouth during sex, you would’ve told them to piss off because they had no idea what the hell were they talking about, but now you had an explicit, front-row seat view of it, you couldn’t look at him any other way.

The way his cock rutted into you and the way his digits worked you over and over again, while his massive hand made you struggle for air, sent your body into overdrive and you cried out his name as if it was your salvation. Your brain was clouded with ecstasy as he continued to ram into you, chasing his own release.

You lost the power to straddle him and collapsed on top of him. Andy’s hands travelled back into your hips, locking you in place as you were pliable with your prolonged orgasm. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum too, baby.”

Then Andy emptied his seed into you, filling you up with his load, and he groaned out loud in your ear. You both tried to abate your breathing while he was still sheathed inside you. The closeness felt intimate and comforting and somehow it felt like you were committing treachery. Your limbs were intertwined and you didn’t wanna untangle yourself from him because you knew if you did, he’d drive you home and take the less travelled by road and that would be it.

There was no post-sex cuddling or aftercare. There was no murmuring soft words under a duvet and exchanging tender kisses while basking in the afterglow with him. Because that’s all this was, an illicit affair. All there was after a steamy rendezvous were quick showers to wash off traces of each other as if you didn’t even exist and a spontaneously fabricated tale so the other person wouldn’t know where the other one had truly been.

You wanted to throw things at him and scream, don’t you fucking call me kid or baby, I’m neither of those things. You wanted to hate him for the godforsaken mess he’d turned you into, but you couldn’t. Because he had shown you colours you couldn’t see with anyone else and you couldn’t erase the secret language he taught you from your mind despite the idiotic fool that he made you.

And no matter how many times you witnessed him kissing his wife like a loving spouse would and how long he made you wait for a call, you knew damn well that you’d do it all over again for him in a heartbeat.

[write-orflight]

Galileo: Chapter 5

**Gif Not Mine**

Prev -  Next

Pairings: SpencerXReader, enemies to friends to lovers trope

Rating: M

Words: 2.5K

Warnings: Light smut, 18+

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary: Y/N is an astronomer with her head constantly in the stars. But when a serial killer is threatening NASA’s top scientists, she is left in the protective custody of a man who’s gravitational pull threatens to pull her back down to earth.

A.N Unedited because i’m sleepy. There’s a fic I read when I first joined the fandom that inspired some of this chapter. i can’t remember the name but if you do, please tell me so I can credit. Comment on this chapter only or message to be on taglist please.

                             Chapter 5: Saturn 

There was a rare occurrence that happens sometimes in Space where a Planet will tilt off its axis and disrupt the order of things in the galaxy forever. Even though it hasn’t happened yet, it doesn't make it not possible. You had always thought about that phenomenon and how you never quite understood how so many scientists just blindly believed in that possibility with no proof. It wasn’t until that dance with Spencer that you believed in it. If you were the galaxy, that dance was the tilt in your axis. 

Nothing could quite be the same again. 

It seemed that Spencer himself was the disruptor. 

Since that day, everything between the two of you was different. It was simpler. It was too easy to have conversations, to laugh at each other's jokes, to spit inane useless facts at each other. But it also became too easy to melt at Spencer’s bright smile, too easy to stare at his hands as he helped you with your math sometimes, too easy to flush whenever he paid you a compliment on your work. 

Too easy to fall in love with him. 

You didn’t want to think about that but you couldn’t help it. At first, you wanted to chalk it up to you not knowing how to differentiate your feelings. Maybe you just thought you were in love with him because he was the first guy to be nice to you since Jonathan but as the days went on you knew that to not be the case. None of this felt like how you were with Jonathan. With Spencer, it just felt easy. Just felt right. 

It was the weekend so you had off work. Before you would always end up going into work anyway and getting some extra logs in but now you liked staying in and hanging out with Spencer. Right now the two of you were walking in the plaza near your home, fresh cups of coffee in hand. Spencer, at first, did not want to be out but after some convincing (which was just you threatening to leave without him, which he did not like) he was all for joining you out. The two of you stopped in a bookstore and you made a beeline for the astrology section. You hear Spencer scoff when you pick up a book to look through it. You raise an eyebrow at him. 

“What?” You say. 

“Astrology, really? Aren’t you a scientist?” 

“Yea, an astronomer. I love Space, so while Astrology isn’t a proven science. It’s fun to think the stars have a say in what kinda person you are.” You shrug. “When’s your birthday?” 

“October 28th.” 

“Of course you’re a Scorpio.” 

“That doesn’t mean anything to me. Astrology isn’t real.” 

“You must be real fun at parties.” You roll your eyes. 

“Well, what’s your sign?” 

“I’m a Cancer. Did you know that water signs are the most compatible? Especially Scorpios and Cancers.” 

Spencer laughs out loud at that. You turn looking him in the eye. “What’s funny?” you say. 

“That itself doesn’t tell you that astrology is bullshit?” He laughs. You narrow your eyes at him. “I mean, us, compatible? It’s funny.” 

You try. You try so very hard not to look hurt by his words, you know Spencer’s a profiler and will see right through it. And he does by the sympathetic look he gives you. 

“You’re right, maybe it is bullshit.” You say, putting the book down instantly. “Let’s go home.” 

You and Spencer don’t talk the whole walk home, in fact you don’t talk when you get there. You’re about to just retreat to your room when you feel a hand circle your wrist. 

“I’m sorry.” He says. 

“You didn’t do anything.” 

“I hurt your feelings.” He says. 

“You didn’t hurt my feelings.” You lied. “I’m just with you all the time. Sometimes I just need a minute alone. Is that okay?” 

He lets go of your wrist. “Of course, I’m sorry.” 

You nod and retreat to your room, blowing a heavy breath as you fell into your bed. Might as well take a nap. You thought as you let sleep take you over. 

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

Long, slender fingers found their way into your hair and yanked roughly. You couldn’t help the soft whimper that came behind it. You felt the lips that were sucking hard bruising marks into your neck smirk slightly. His other hand trailed your body lightly until they met their final destination at your sex. You gasp loudly when the digit rubbed soft circles around your clit. 

“Are you going to be good for me?” He asked, you nodded dumbly before moaning out loud when the first digit found its way inside you. Spencer smirked at you. “Look at you. I’ve barely touched you and you’re this wet for me. You want me to fuck you, don’t you?” He asked, you nodded and gasped again as he found that spot inside you. “Hmm, I don’t think you want it enough baby.”   

You’re shaking your head immediately. “No. Ple-please fuck me.” You stutter. “I’ll be good, I swear.” 

The smirk he gives you is almost devilish. “Alright, baby. I’ll take care of you.” He says as you feel member pressing up against your sex--

You wake up to the smell of something burning and Spencer shouting expletives from what you assumed was the kitchen. You groaned, frustratedly. Since that day your mom came to visit, you dreamed of Spencer almost constantly. Today was no different. You couldn’t escape him in your waking hours and now it seemed you couldn’t even escape him sleeping. 

You hop out of bed and run to the kitchen. The sight before is Spencer frantically waving the billowing smoke that was coming from your oven. You run to open your window and turn the oven fan on. You both look at the pan that had something that couldn’t even be described as food anymore by the degree of which it was burned. Spencer looked at you guiltily. 

“You seemed upset so I thought I’d make you dinner but I was reading and I lost track of time. I’m sorry, Y/N.” 

You smile at him. “Thank you for thinking of me but I wanted chinese tonight anyway, sound good?”  You say, he nods gratefully. 

Later the two of you are sitting at your kitchen table, eating chinese out of the takeaway containers. You were talking about nothing and everything until the topic came to College. You talked about how freshman year you did the whole partying thing before quickly finding out it wasn’t your scene and keeping to yourself for the rest of your college career. Spencer told you he never went to any parties in college. 

“You never went to any parties?!” You asked, shocked.

“Well, I was 12. No one was really scrambling to invite me to frat parties.” 

“So you didn’t do any traditional college games? No beer pong? No ‘Never Have I Ever’?” You ask, Spencer shakes his head. That’s when you get a fantastic idea. You get up and look in the cabinet above your stove which is where you kept your liquor and pulled out a bottle of Jameson. Spencer sees this and immediately shakes his head. 

“No.” 

“Aww, come on. Let’s play Never Have I Ever.” You smile. “If you’ve done the thing you drink.” 

“I don’t want to play a remedial drinking game.” 

You think for a second. “How about this? You’re a profiler, right? And I like to think I’m a little observant so how about this. We’ll take turns making assumptions about the other if the person is right, the other drinks and if they’re wrong, you drink.” 

“I don’t know… it probably isn’t wise for me to be drinking. I’m supposed to be watching you.” 

“It’s not like we go anywhere that’s not here anyway.” You say. “Plus, if you're good at your job, you’ll hardly have to drink.” You throw a pouty face on for good measure. Spencer rolls his eyes. 

“Fine.” He says standing up and snatching the bottle from you, walking to the living room. You giggle at him before grabbing two glasses to follow him out. “Just so you know, it’s wrong to peer pressure people.” He says. 

“Well, what’s a college drinking game without peer pressure.” You laugh. 

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

“Who’s starting?” You say as you watch Spencer pour your glass. The two of you are settled on opposite ends of your small couch, facing each other, your knees just almost touching. 

“You can.” Spencer says. “I want to see if you're actually observant.” 

“Okay.” You say, sitting up slightly at the challenge. “You’re an only child.” You say. Spencer raises his eyebrows at you, shocked you actually got something right, but drinks anyway. 

Spencer looks at you for a second. “You have an older sibling you are not close to.” 

You drank. “Yea I’ve got an adoptive older brother. There’s nothing wrong, it’s just he was already much older when I was born and we have nothing in common, other than our parents.” You look at Spencer for a second. “I wanna say divorced parents, but only raised by one.” 

“You’re a lot more observant than I thought.” Spencer says as he drinks. “Dad left when I was 10.” He says offhandedly. 

The game goes like this for a while, both of you confirming your beliefs of each other. You find out about Spencer’s mother's illness, Spencer learning you smoke when you’re stressed. Spencer was winning though, not that you had a problem with that as you wanted to drink, hence why you suggested the game. You were giving him a little bit of a run for his money. It was now your turn and the alcohol in your system must’ve turned off your filter because you say. 

“You’re a virgin.” 

You pause for a second waiting for him to drink when you realize he’s waiting on you to. You widen your eyes in shock but take your drink anyway. “I thought Maeve died before you got to meet her fully.” 

Spencer nods. “She did.” He says, “The two don’t correlate.” He says, like it's obvious. 

You hadn’t been expecting that. “You just didn’t strike as the hit it and quit it type.” 

“And I’m not, but sometimes things are just temporary.” He says looking at you, deeply in your eyes. “You were upset today, in the shop because I said we weren’t compatible.”  

You solemnly take a drink. “Why?” He asks. 

“Hey, that’s not a part of the game.” You say. 

“Please?” He adds. 

You sigh. “I don’t know… I guess, it seemed like the idea of being with me repulsed you. And that was upsetting.” 

Spencer looks at you with the most intense look in his eye. You had never seen that look before and you were glad you hadn’t because it was so heated that it was melting you where you sat. “The idea of being with you…” He says, eyes flickering down to your lips and back to your eyes. “Doesn’t repulse me. Trust me.” 

You knew you weren’t the best at social cues sometimes but that seemed like a pretty big one. You move closer to him, so that your faces were close but someone would still have to make that final move. You realize it’s your turn, so you think, Fuck it...  

“You want to kiss me right now.” You say, looking Spencer in his eyes. He doesn’t say anything, just takes a slow swig from his glass, eyes never leaving yours. He sits his glass down on the table next to him before saying. 

“You want me to kiss you.” 

You sip your drink, looking him right back in the eyes. You sit your glass down next to his and Spencer's hand catches your wrist on its way back. Before you can even get a good look at him, his lips are crashing on to yours. You groan in surprise before melting into it, your hands immediately going for his hair. His massive hands almost engulf your face as he tries to pull you impossibly close to him. He groans as he licks into your mouth, both of you tasting like the Jameson you had just drunk but there was also something under it that was just pure Spencer. You push him back until you are fully seated in his lap. His hands go immediately to your waist. Feeling risky, you experimentally grind your hips, causing Spencer to groan and grip you tighter. His hands slide up your shirt slightly, you moan at that. 

“Fuck-” Spencer says as you suck bruises down his neck. “Fuck, w-we’ve gotta stop.” 

You pull back. “Why?” you ask. 

Spencer swallows, pushing you off his lap. “There’s this thing called transference. You only want me right now because I’m protecting you. You don’t like me.” He says. “We don’t like each other.” 

You realized what Spencer was trying to say. You were both drunk and there, he didn’t really want you. It was being stuck together for so long that was making him attracted to you. You were foolish to think a guy would actually want you. 

“You don’t like me.” You say. “And I read this situation wrong again. God, I’m an idiot!”  

“I didn’t say that, Y/N-” 

“No, you’re right. You only kissed me because I’m what you’ve been stuck with for weeks. You don’t like me. I can’t blame you no guy ever does.” 

“No, Y/N, I just didn’t want to take advan--” 

“I need to smoke. I’m going out.” You say, grabbing. “Alone.” 

“Y/N, that’s not safe and you know it. Let me go with you.” 

“I think we both need to be away from each other. I’ll only be out front. Please.” You plead to him. 

  Spencer doesn’t say anything so you take that as your cue to go. You pull your pack and lighter out the kitchen draw and stomp out the door. As soon as you get in front of the building, you light the first cigarette as stray tears fall down your face. You were such an idiot to think someone like Spencer would want you. Sure you were both smart but you were arrogant and spiteful. Spencer was the sweetest person ever when you got to know him. It was stupid to think there was a world the two of you would work. 

You frustratedly put your cigarette out and stand to head back inside to probably embarrass yourself some more when you feel it. 

The hard slam to the back of your head knocking you out cold. 

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

Taglist: @lokislilslut​ @spencerreidslove​ @evelyncade @ceeellewrites​ @diesinspanishbcimhispanic​ @eevee0722​ @fiftyshadesof-reid​ @cielo1984​ @differentkettleoffishalltogether​ @criminalmindzjunkie​ @bbygirlq2020​ @quillanpie​ @themanwiththreephds​ @itshatertatertotblog​ @bihoeofmanyfandoms​ @baby-i-am-fireproof​ @graciehams​ @no-honey-no​ @capricornmashmallow​ @itsarayofsunshine​ @big-galaxy-chaos​

[angsty-prompt-hole]

Heads Up, Seven Up

Thanks for the tag, @onthetipofmyquill!

I’m just gonna post an excerpt since my seven make absolutely no sense without context lmao. And also I have been dying to post Winter Hollow stuff on this blog and I had this little short story thing I’ve been working on involving it.

There’s an urban legend where I’m from. I’m not sure how it started or when, but most everyone in my small town knew the story. It was almost uncanny how well everyone’s different versions matched up, and I wondered for a long time whether that was because of how small our community was, or if there was something else going on here. I don’t ask myself that question anymore.

The story goes something like this:

Somewhere deep in the forest, there’s an old mining town. It’s not like any of the other old mining towns though. This town, called Winter Hollow after the founding Winterholler Mining Company, was burned to the ground in the winter of 1974. Yet, some people have reported that when they went to explore the town, all of the buildings were intact. In fact, there were even people living there. However, something seemed off, and it all got even worse the longer you stayed in Winter Hollow. You would start to see the landscape changing around you. A highway would appear going through the center of town, and the woods you had hiked through to get there were now desert plains where cattle and other livestock grazed. Some of the residents in the town would start urging you to leave while you still could, but you would catch others watching you, almost hungrily. And then…

The story can end in only one way, obviously. The townsfolk kill you, sacrificing you to their great horned god. Sometimes they would also eat you. Some people would embellish the story, giving the townsfolk names, or adding in a radio station that broadcast out weird messages that made no sense. When I was younger, the parents of the community would tell a version of the story where there were weird animals lingering in the woods, waiting to snatch you up. None of us kids ever admitted to believing it, but I know some of us were successfully scared out of solo adventures in the woods for a while.

This legend was just that for most of my life, a legend. When I hit college, though, it became much more than that.

I’d always been passionate about the outdoors, and the forest was one of my favorite places on earth, so when it came time to pick a degree, obviously I picked natural resources. However, it turns out natural resources involves a lot more math than I was anticipating, and since I had nearly failed all of my high school math classes, I ended up having to take a bunch of extra math classes in order to meet the prerequisites for the stuff I actually cared about.

The first semester of my sophomore year the math class was statistics. Around the 5th day of the semester this kid sat next to me in class, a guy I had never seen before. He was about average in every respect except for the fact that he looked like he hadn’t slept in a week and that his eyes were the most vivid green I’ve ever seen in my life.

This is an open tag for anyone who wants to do it!

[notebooknebula]

Top 3 Aha Moments in Real Estate with Jay Conner & Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen

https://www.jayconner.com/top-3-aha-moments-in-real-estate-with-jay-conner-chaffee-thanh-nguyen/

Real Estate Investing With Jay Conner

Jay Conner was joined by his good friend Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen. They talked about some of the “Aha! Moments” in the real estate business.

In addition, they also conversed about “Private Money”. What is Private Money? How and where you can get private money to fund your deals.

All these and more in this episode of Real Estate Investing with Jay Conner.

Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen is an International Speaker, #1 Best Selling Author, and Business and Success Coach.

He holds a Bachelor of Science in Industrial Engineering from the University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign.

After college, he worked in Corporate America for over 11 years as an Engineer and Senior IT Business Analyst.

He was a Certified Project Management Professional with the internationally recognized Project Management Institute for 6 years.

Using his corporate experience, he went on to start multiple businesses starting in 2002, including Real Estate Investing where he has invested in multiple states across the nation.

His passion, helping others achieve their highest potential in both business and in life.

As a refugee himself, Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen is committed to helping others and giving back. He is very active within his community serving within the Jaycees as a 10th Degree Jaycee, US Jaycee Senator #70583, and a JCI Certified National Trainer.

Timestamps:

0:01 – Get Ready To Be Plugged Into The Money

0:39 – Today’s guest: Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen

1:34 – Jay’s New Book: “Where To Get The Money Now” –https://www.JayConner.com/Book

2:13 – Chaffee, one of the editors of Jay’s new book talks about why you need to get this book now!

3:19 – Aha! Moments in Real Estate – Private Money Academy Conference

4:43 – Who is Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen?

8:42 – 1st Aha! Moment: Substituting the collateral allows the lender to continue earning interest on a loan for a longer period of time, should the original property sell in less than 6 months.

10:19 – What is Private Money? Who is a Private Lender?

15:43 – 2nd Aha! Moment: Sellers do not know what they will accept until you make the offer.

23:10 – How can you buy a property using Subject-to existing note strategy?

26:04 – Final Aha moment for today: You can make big money in the real estate business in a very small market.

31:49 – Chaffee’s parting comments: Go out there, do not be afraid to make offers!

Private Money Academy Conference:

https://jaysliveevent.com/live/?oprid=&ref=42135

Have you read Jay’s new book: Where to Get The Money Now? It is available FREE (all you pay is the shipping and handling) at https://www.JayConner.com/Book

Free Webinar: http://bit.ly/jaymoneypodcast

Jay Conner is a proven real estate investment leader. Without using his own money or credit, Jay maximizes creative methods to buy and sell properties with profits averaging $64,000 per deal.

What is Real Estate Investing? Live Private Money Academy Conference

https://youtu.be/QyeBbDOF4wo

YouTube Channel

https://www.youtube.com/c/RealEstateInvestingWithJayConner

iTunes:

https://podcasts.apple.com/ca/podcast/private-money-academy-real-estate-investing-jay-conner/id1377723034

Listen to our Podcast:

https://realestateinvestingdeals.mypodcastworld.com/11201/top-3-aha-moments-in-real-estate-with-jay-conner-chaffee-thanh-nguyen

Top 3 Aha Moments in Real Estate with Jay Conner & Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen

Jay Conner

00:03:06

Well, Chaffee, you’re the one that came up with the idea for the show today, and that is we can talk about the live event a little bit and we had 74, what we call “A-ha moments.” So, tell everybody what “A-ha moment” is at the live event, Chaffee.

Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen

00:03:34

So, first of all, let me say that this was one of the best live events that we had a long time in forever. And so to have everyone there, it was a full crowd, full room. Everyone was up in mixing and mingling and having the time and most importantly learning what to do in their business, following Jay’s processes and systems. And as you can see, it’s multiple pages before an “A-ha moment,” which is a moment where Jay talks and trains and teaches about what to do and how to do it.

And the little light bulb comes on and it’s like, “A-ha! I’ve got it! It makes sense!”  

Jay Conner

00:04:14

And the attendees are writing these down and they’re turning them in. So we give away prizes and such as well for people to share their A-ha moments. We don’t have near the time to review all 74 of them, but review just a few of the comments that the live event attendees wrote down and turned in as light bulb moments, from learning at the event. But, Chaffee, lets you take a moment and tell folks about your background and how it is we work together.

Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen

00:04:47

Sure. So when I was growing up, I was told you gotta go to school, get good grades and get a good job or J-O-B as we call it, right? And so that’s what it is. I did. I went to school, I got great grades.

I’m Asian, of course. So I get straight A’s and good stuff.  

Jay Conner

00:05:06

You’re really good at math, right?

Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen

00:05:07

That’s right. I was good at Math. So like a lot of Asians during my time, we were either doctors or engineers and I became an engineer, went to college, got big grades again and got a job as an engineer. So I’m working as an engineer in the corporate world at a multi-billion dollar company. And it was always nagging at me, Jay, that I needed to do more. I needed to do something else because I wasn’t made to be an engineer. I was made to do a lot more than go to a job, 8:00 in the morning and come home at 8:00 at night, 10, 12 hours a day working for somebody else, doing something that I might be good at, only I don’t really enjoy, or I don’t have really have a passion about. So during that time I decided to start something on the side and that was my real estate business. Started investing in 2002 and lost a ton of money on my first deal day.

Jay Conner

00:06:09

Uh-oh. There’s one big lesson right there.

Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen

00:06:09

That’s a book that I need to write, right? Of what not to do. And one thing that I didn’t have, just to share with everybody, one thing that I did now was a coach or a mentor to call up and say, “What’s going on? What am I doing wrong? Or what am I not doing? What should I be doing that I’m not doing?” And that’s really what got me in trouble, Jay, was really some of the things that I should have done that I wasn’t doing. So it wasn’t necessarily that I was doing something wrong. It was, I was missing some steps. I’m missing some things that I should’ve been doing. And so I lost a ton of money in that first deal. Learned, I went through the school of hard knocks and, and you know, lost a ton of money.

And then I got smart and I said, I need help. And so I got a mentor, I got a coach and started doing some more deals. And then I realized how powerful a coach and a mentor can be for somebody’s business and success. And that led me to personal development, which led me to fall in love with coaching. And so I started transitioning from real estate into coaching. And then while I was coaching at a real estate event, I met this guy right here, Mr. Jay Conner. And it was like a spark right away. It was like, I like this guy. He would resonate. And I like what he’s doing. And at that time you were just starting your Where To Get The Money Now course. And you’re like, I’m going to be a speaker and a trainer.

I’m like, “Me, too. I’m doing the same thing, I’m a speaker and a trainer, too.”

And so we’ve gotten in touch over the years. And then, Jay, you started blowing up. I mean, you started teaching and training a whole ton of people. And along the way, he said, “Hey, Chafee, come join the party.” And I was just like, “I’m there.” Like, where am I at? And let’s join the party and-

Jay Conner

00:07:55

You’ve probably been coming to all of our live events. It’s probably been 7 years or more, 7, 8 years, something like that. But yeah, Chaffee helps me run my mastermind group, as well. So, wow! Mastermind group is starting to blow up big time. Because we had 22 of us in the room, thereabouts, 20, 22 of us in the room, the week before last at the mastermind. And we almost doubled that now, but yeah, Chaffee’s a very, very important part of my team when it comes to working with our students and et cetera.

So anyway, as I mentioned, we just have gone through these A-ha moments. So let’s just go back and forth, Chaffee. This first one here. So I’m gonna read the A-ha moment, but then I’m gonna ask you to expand or to really talk about what it means in a very easy, simple to understand way. So George at the live event wrote down, his A-ha moment was, ���Substituting the collateral while I was a lender to continue earning interest on a loan for a longer period of time, should the original property sell in less than six months.” So,how about unpacking that. First of all, a good place to start is, make sure everybody knows what we mean when we say, “collateral.” What’s collateral?

Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen

00:09:24

So collateral is what you get in place of the money that you’re lending.

And in our case, Jay, or your case, the collateral is the property. And so they get the property. If something happens and you’re unable to make that payment back to them, then they can go and get the property. And a lot of times they’ll end up with a lot more money when they get the property because you’re only buying those properties that are certain after-repair value, 75% of the ARV, as we say. And so they’re better off getting a property only, obviously you’ve always paid everybody back. And so they’ve never had to use that collateral.

Jay Conner

00:10:10

Yeah, these A-ha moments. So the name of the event that we just said is called The Private Money Academy Conference. So the emphasis of the event is on how to quickly and easily get a lot of private money. So let’s be clear, first of all, Chaffee, and make sure everybody understands what we mean by “private money.” What are we not talking about and who is a private lender or what is a private lender?

Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen

00:10:37

So just to be clear, private money typically comes from somebody that doesn’t really do real estate. They don’t want to get involved in real estate. They’re busy or they have other things that they want to do in their life. And they want a greater return on their money. Sometimes people confuse private lenders with hard money lenders and these are professional money lenders. And so they charge points and they charge high interest rates. And that’s what most people are familiar with. That’s what most people use, are hard money lenders. They’re not banks, they’re not institutions. They’re just people. Most of these people are retired or they’re professionals with high incomes and they have money sitting in a bank or in a retirement account, earning them less than 1% typically. And they’re looking to earn a lot more.

Jay Conner

00:11:33

So private lenders are human beings, right? As Chaffee just said, you’re not borrowing money from any kind of bank or mortgage company or broker of money. These are individuals. In fact, Carol Joy and I right now have 47 individuals that are loaning us money, investing with us to do deals. We pay them a higher rate of return, safe and secure, but nowhere near a hard money lender’s rates. One thing that’s very different about this world of private money is we make the rules as the real estate investor. We set the program, like resetting the interest rate. We determine how long the notes are. In Kentucky, they call it a 360. It’s actually a 180. So it’s the opposite direction of how it works when you’re borrowing money from a bank. When I was borrowing money from the banks up until 2009, my first 6 years, that’s where I thought, that’s what you had to do.

You had to go to the bank and borrow the money to fund your deals. Well, 2003 to 2009, that’s what I did. But since that time, and then this world of private money, we have created our own program. And like we said, the interest rate, how much interest rate would you pay, the frequency of payments, and et cetera. So back to this coming here on this A-ha moment, George says substituting collateral allows the lender to continue earning interest. So what I taught in the section was that when you have borrowed money for your real estate deal, and it sounded like I borrow a lot of what we call “seconds” or junior lien position, smaller amounts of private money, not a lot of money that I used to buy a house, but for rehab and say, for example, so I may have like a $30,000 note that I’ve borrowed to rehab a house.

Now let’s say I sell that house and the note has not expired. So if I have another property, another collate piece of collateral that I have, then I keep that note open so that the lender can keep earning their interest. And I don’t have to pay off that $30,000 note, in this example, I can just substitute or change the collateral that’s backing that note. Does that make sense, Chaffee?

Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen

00:14:07

Yeah. What you’re saying is that you don’t have to pay back that private lender and pay them on the interest because you still have time left on that note. So instead of them only getting interest on four months of payments because you sold the property within 4 months, you know, it’s a 12-month note, you got eight months left. You just take that and put it on another property and they continue to get paid on those 8 months.

Something that goes along with that is a lot of times when I have a new private lender that is doing business with us, if I cash out, I’m going to pay them off or whatever. One of the first things they say is, “Well, Jay, can’t you just keep the money? I don’t want the money back.” And the answer is, you got to either substitute- If you’re doing the business my way cause we can’t borrow any unsecured money. It’s all backed by real estate. Can I do that legally? Sure. But I want to protect and give the security to the private lenders. So they’ll ask, “Well, can’t you just keep the money, Jay?” And the answer is I can, if I’ve got another property that I can collateralize that note. And the worst, I can’t, I’m just not going to keep the money.

If you pay off and you’re also shooting the collateral, then the real estate attorney can’t keep it in their escrow account, what we call “unassigned” and I mean that they’re not a savings account, right? So either got to pay them back or settle through the collateral. We gotta do our next one, Chaffee. What we’ve got here on the sheet?

Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen

00:15:42

I like this one that Felicia had which is, “Sellers do not know what they will accept until you make the offer.”

Jay Conner

00:15:55

Yes. That’s always an A-ha moment. So the A-ha moment is that sellers do not know what they will accept until you make an offer. But now I’ve heard you say this a hundred times, Chaffee, “I’ve never bought a house that I didn’t make an offer on.” Right? So the reason this is such an important point is I just know from experience, it happens all the time and Carol Joy and I, and my team, we do 2 to 3 deals a month, right?

Not a lot of deals, but 420 rehabs since we started this back in 2003. What I’ve learned over all these years is that regardless of what the seller says is the least they will accept. Now, this is particularly if they’re talking to someone else on your team, like the acquisitions. So I have a full-time acquisitionist that does the initial negotiating with the sellers. So regardless of what they tell Kim, our acquisitionist, then I’ll run the numbers. I may not be able to offer that amount of money that he said was the least they would take. So a lot of times I’ll get back to Kim and I’ll offer much, much less. For example, we’ve got a house over in Beaufort right now, that lead came in from one of our bird dogs, a.k.a. Field Agent, a.k.a. Ant Farmer. Anyway, they sent me a picture of this FSBO sign.

And we got up into the seller, Chaffee, and the seller told Kim, in fact it was an inherited property, told him they weren’t going to take one penny less than $300,000. We ran the numbers. I couldn’t offer $300,000 to make it work. The most I could offer was 250,000. So I went back to Kim. I said, “Give them the offer,” and I’m just not offering 250,000, it’s how this offer is framed and presented. I said, “All cash,” i.e. private money, private in there to buy it. And then I could close in 7 days. I knew the house was vacant. I knew it was imperative. There’s no emotional attachment to this property. And these 2 sisters just want to cash out. And so I said, “We close in 7 days, all cash. Don’t have to go get approved for a mortgage or get approved for a loan.”

And that was $50,000 less than just what they said, the least they’d take is 300, and Chaffee, they accepted it. Boom, no conversation. They accepted it, $50,000 less. So as is written down here. They really don’t know. I think they may have really thought that in their head, they may not have been playing any games, but when you’ve got an all-cash offer offered to you and you can have all that cash in 7 days. I mean, that will affect the way you think. Right, Chaffee?

Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen

00:18:57

Absolutely. I mean that’s a $50,000 lesson right there, right?

Jay Conner

00:19:00

Exactly. Exactly. So the takeaway from that for me is, if you want the property, make the offer, period.

Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen

00:19:12

Let me add why I think that’s also very important is that before you even get to the conversation with the seller, Jay, a lot of students that I’ve talked to that have trouble or challenges finding deals always tell me, like I asked him, “How many offers did you make?”

And they’ll say like, “2 or 3.” I go, “Why haven’t you made more offers?” And they’ll say, “Well, the numbers don’t make sense.” And so that’s a wall for them, right? That’s a mental wall that says they look at the numbers from the MLS or the lead sheet or wherever they got that lead from and say, well, you know, it just doesn’t make sense. Like, they want more, it doesn’t meet the MAO, the maximum allowable offer, or it’s above that. So it’s not a lead, let me just throw it away. And regardless of what the numbers say, if you just make the offer, according to what your numbers should be, you’ll be surprised at how many people come back and counter the offer or start that negotiation process. Or as you said, Jay, just take it because they want out.

Jay Conner

00:20:17

Exactly, and there’s an art to making the offer as well.

So we’re going to make the offer, but we’re also going to justify the offer. Many times we will share my formula that I use with the seller. Now I say, the math is what makes the decision and what we can do. And we just get the white elephant out of the conversation, like right up front. In fact, the sellers that I was visiting with this past Friday, I sat down with them for two hours, I still make offers myself. I enjoy visiting people. So I’m sitting down with these people. And so I knew what their number was and we were $30,000 off. And so I had already gone through the house and looked at the repairs that they needed and etc.

And I told them right up front and I said, “Look, I think we’re going to have to work something out,” but I’ll tell you it doesn’t work out all the time. We call that the ‘takeaway,’ right? But I just get the white elephant out of the way by saying, you know what, unless this is a win for you and a win for her husband that was sitting there as well. And this is a win for both of you and a win for me then I don’t want to be a part of it. I don’t want to be involved in any transaction where everybody is not winning. And for everybody to win, all of us have got to give a little bit, too, for that to happen for a long time. So I justified the offer by actually sharing the formula and the math.  

I don’t want to come across as though I am just like pulling some figure out of thin air and just trying to make an extra $30,000 and be some greedy real estate investor. There’s an actual formula to where this comes from and I actually gave him a choice. And one I’m gonna bring up now is not on the A-ha moments, but we talked about it at lunch and that is, I gave them multiple offers. I gave them a choice. And quite frankly, I was happy with whatever choice they took, I said, “Look, I can buy this property.” Of course they never heard of the subject to the existing note, nobody’s ever heard of it. So you gotta like, dumb that conversation down, but I said I can pay you all cash, or I can give you $10,000 more if I buy it from you with what we call,

“subject to the existing note,” or “subject to,” as most real estate investors. And they immediately took the 10,000 more. That’s what they had in their- at least these people were current. I mean, they got fantastic credit. So just to make sure everybody understands, Chaffee, tell our audience and listeners and viewers here, what do we mean by buying a property, subject to the existing note?

Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen

00:23:21

So when we say “buy, subject to the existing note,” which is not something that you would actually say to the seller. You’re not going to say I’m going to buy your property subject to the existing note because that’s right over their head, right? So basically they have a mortgage on that property with the bank or with a credit union or some institution. And all you’re going to do is you’re going to make their payments for them.

So they’re not getting rid of that loan, instead, you’re just gonna pay those payments as they come on a monthly basis and they’re going to transfer the title of the property to you. So you’re going to own the property and make payments as if it was your loan, except the loan stays in their name. So that’s the only thing. You’re making their payments and you’re taking over the property and they can go on their happy way and live their life. So they don’t have to worry about those monthly payments anymore. And oftentimes Jay, with “subject to,” with the strategy that you use, if somebody is behind on payments, you’re actually helping them fix their credit because you’re making those on-time monthly payments. Now, in this case, they were on time. So you don’t have to do that. And as long as you continue to make those payments for them, that’s still helping their credit build up because that’s a loan on their property being paid on time

Jay Conner

00:24:38

Yeah. So they are actually getting in this transaction that I’m talking about, they are actually getting about $34,000 more than their payoff. So I’m buying it to the existing note, making the payments on that outstanding balance until I find a buyer and cash out. So the difference that I’m paying them, I explained to them, you’re getting the same amount of money in your pocket. Whether I pay all cash and pay off your mortgage, or if I buy it, this is what I call Option B and explained to them how “subject to” works. You’re still getting the same amount of money in your pocket. It’s just a matter of whether I’m going to be paying off your mortgage right now. And so what else am I going to do on this deal? I’m buying it, set it into the existing note, and then I’m going to borrow private money in a second position or a junior position, and use that little bit of private money to go ahead and give them their cash when we close on it.

One A-ha moment that I’ve read on here is they just made a statement that they heard me say to a lot of them all the time. And that is you can make really big money in this business in a very, very small market. So what���s the population of where you and your family live up in the Chicago area?

Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen

00:26:21

There’s about 8 million people in the city and the surrounding areas.

Jay Conner

00:26:26

Yeah. So he’s at 8 million. So me and Carol Joy are here in 40,000, so we did 2 to 3 deals a month, even when it’s become more challenging now to find deals in the market that we’re in.

But as I said, we do 2 to 3 a month, and we’re still averaging all this $70,000 profit per deal. Well, let’s fill up under contract that I’ve been telling everybody about. The after-repair value is right around 300,000 and I can put maybe $5,000 in this house. It’s already been totally rehabbed. There’s a little bit left upstairs. Well, here’s the math, I’m buying it for 160,000. It’s worth right at 300. And all I got to put in is about $5,000. So I didn’t have to take that to the committee to get the approval on that one.

Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen

00:27:35

Let me just repeat that so everyone listening understands, Jay, is that these individuals are current on their payments and the house is worth about 300 after repair. And they’re willing to sell it to you for 160 and they’re allowing you to take over their payments.

And is that a real deal, Jay? Do those kinds of deals exist?

Jay Conner

00:27:59

Well, I’ll be able to show you the contract. I’d be able to show you the deed this coming Monday. But this is not an out of ordinary deal by any imagination. One question someone may be thinking right now is, well, why would somebody trust me to make their payments and give up all that equity? Couldn’t they put the house in the multiple listing service? They could, even though it still needs some repair upstairs. But I always ask people, “How did you know where to find us?” And we did marketing consistently everyday. We do Facebook ads. We do Google ads. We do direct mail to people that are behind and in foreclosure, et cetera. So I asked this lady, I said, “How did you find me?”

She says, “We’ve been living here for 28 years and we know what you do.” I mean, if you live around here, you’re going to see my face and you’re going to see my marketing on Facebook. And so she’s “All I did was I just went to Google and I Googled ‘Jay buys houses.’ ” There it was. But back to the question, why would someone be willing to do what we’re doing? Well, people do things for their own reasons. Sometimes you’re not even actually sure, but since I sat down with these people for two hours, I know why. The husband is not in good health and it’s like a hundred degrees here. He’s been working on this house for over a year. And he came in from the heat last week and his wife is worried sick that something’s going to happen to him.

And she’s going to be stuck with the burden of this house. And she tells me that she tells me that multiple times. She says, “I just don’t want to have the risk of being stuck and having the burden of this.” And in fact, on this “subject to” things they never heard of, I said, “Well, you get with me giving you $10,000 more, option B way,” I said, “The only thing you have to decide is, are you going to trust me to make your payments?” And I said, “Why wouldn’t I make your payments? I can’t sell a house and fix it up and all that if I’m not making your payments, right? I don’t want the bank to take it away from me, particularly when I’m getting ready to put this rehab money in it.”

So the short answer to the question, “Who would be willing to sell their house this way?” And the short answer is, “A motivated seller.”

Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen

00:30:46

And that’s the key. So I hear it all the time, Jay, is that, “No, I don’t. I can’t find these deals out there. No one will ever sell me these properties.” And the reason is that you’re talking to unmotivated sellers. Most of them are For Sale By Owner because they’re too cheap to hire real estate agents. So they’re not motivated. They just want more money and those, I think For Sale By Owners, you can definitely find some deals with them. If you find the right For Sale By Owner, only is you have to filter through a whole ton, a lot of them. And I think that it’s good practice for you to learn how to speak to people and just realize you want marketing channels in place to get those motivated sellers contacting you so that you don’t have to go out there and talk to a thousand people for you to find the 1 or 2 motivated sellers from those FSBOs out there.

Jay Conner

00:31:40

Exactly. Well, Chaffee, we are about out of time. So I’m going to let you wrap it up with parting comments and final thoughts.

Chaffee-Thanh Nguyen

00:31:48

Parting comments is – Go out there. Don’t be afraid to make offers. Find somebody who you can resonate with, who you like, who has a system and a process that can help hold your hand to do this business and show you how to do the things that you need to do. Unlike me, when I first started, right? Find somebody that’s going to teach you this business so that you can do this business and it can allow you to change your life and live life with the passion that you want or do the things that you’re passionate about. Because, you know, I hear a lot of people all the time, Jay. I’ve watched 30 hours of YouTube videos every single week on how to do real estate.

And I hadn’t done a deal, right? Well that’s because you don’t have somebody like Mr. Jay Conner telling you, guiding you, teaching you step-by-step, what to do and how to do it. You’re watching a thousand different videos that tell you all different things. So you’re either going to pay through the school of hard knocks and learn through mistakes, or you’re going to find somebody and go through and hire a good mentor or coach that’s going to show you how to do this business and do it successfully. And it’s going to be a lot less headaches. So you can do this business, just find the right people to work with and it will change your life.

[katsrnerstories]

BillDip SlowBurn FanFic Chap. 1

Bill had destroyed Dipper's mind.

It has been a few years since weirdmageddon. Since Dipper and Mabel defeated demons from hellish planes of existence and saved the world and their friends from soul and mind crushing madness.  

Dippers a freshman in college now. It was a moment that he had wished for for years. Highschool had been…

Well it wasn't the worst it could have been. Dipper hit a major glow up around the beginning of junior year (with Mabel's help of course) and life was a little easier. He was asked out on dates, went to a few parties here and there that people dragged him to, had some typical highschool fun in the city...

Until around that same time he started getting replies from colleges his senior year, he started to see Bill again. Every once in a while his mind would wander back to that summer, but it was always the good things or nightmares of the horrors they saw.

It started with just a little glimpse here and there. An eye in the back corner of his periphery, some yellow glimpse in a dark room. 

A ghostly hand on his shoulder.

But these things were nothing to the first time Dipper realized something was wrong.

Dipper saw Bill in his dreams. And those dreams were beyond nightmares.

He had had nightmares before. Nightmares of weirdmageddon were common for both dipper and Mabel. But these… these were real; as much as a dream could be.

Because of Gravity Falls, Dipper really wasn't afraid of a lot of things that would have scared him. The unknown was comforting to him. Maybe because it wasn't too unknown to him and Mabel.

But bill. During those nightmares, brought everything he feared to the frontlines. 

It had been a while since Mabel and him shared a room, so Mabel really didn't know about the fear Dipper experienced those nights. 

She was more focused on getting to LA.

She wants to be a criminal psychoanalyst. To look at the minds of people and figure how they tick. Criminals especially. 

Dipper could swear that Bill had done something to her to make her go down such a dark career path, but he couldn't say anything; he neither had a psychology degree nor was untouched by Bill himself.

Who really knows, it could have been anything else that happened to her in those hellish four years of highschool. 

She had moved away quickly after highschool ended to learn in LA. Of course they facetime and text all the time, but the separation was still felt by both of them.

Everyone missed her presence. Her positivity, her unique personality. 

That had transformed into something much darker come junior and senior year. She found out after a few failed boyfriends that she was not only Asexual, but that guys and even girls, can’t seem to give that part of a relationship up. Some even found it offensive that she felt that way.

Dipper went back to oregon. Of course he was in the city, but on weekends he would visit the Mystery Shack and Gravity Falls. 

Soos was happy to give him one of the rooms in the basement. Sometimes even Grunkle Stan or Grunkle Ford would visit. 

They decided shortly after Dipper and Mabel left that they would travel. Of course Ford's labs still sit under the mystery shack, but when Mabel and Dipper visited Soos the summer of their junior year Ford gave them full control of the labs (as long as Dipper kept everyone safe. Which he did too much annoyance of Mabel)

Soos and his wife at that time had just had a little baby boy, and now have a comfortable four kids, two boys and two girls (three of them were triplets) and run the shack not to much better than Stan did, with the same soul in the campy attractions and overpriced merchandise. 

Wendy is in her senior year at a community college in Oregon city, right around the same place Dipper decided to go to school. They hang out pretty regularly, just around weekly.

Robby left gravity falls as soon as he got his GED. Went for New York, looking for a punk career. He sends Wendy emails every once in a while about his music and where he's at. 

Shockingly, Pacifica stayed in Oregon, going to the same college Dipper goes to. They see each other, and after leaving her family, she found a lot out about herself and became a much better person. 

She found she loved a good smoke and art. Apparently, something she hid from the world was that she loved art. She was probably one of the best artists Dipper had seen. After she left the hell hole of her family, she became really chill. Calm. even nice. 

Her and Dipper have coffee pretty much every day. She was one of the only people who also knew what he had gone through.

And she was the only person who noticed as Dipper got worse and worse for wear. 

Bill had been particularly evil the past few weeks, taking much more joy in Dippers struggle. Long ago Dipper had just sort of given up on screaming for Bill to stop. But he always refused to make a deal with him to stop the fear. Not again. 

“Another nightmare again?” Pacifica asks, as Dipper requests 5 shots of caffeine in his already bitter caffeinated black coffee. 

“Yeah. it's getting harder and harder to say no every night. And honestly the empty dorm isn't helping.” 

“Why don't you just move in with me? I've got an extra room that's got your name written on the door if you want it.” 

Dipper almost accepted, but decided against it. It was kind of weird, no matter how good of friends they were, to live with the ex that made you realized you were gay.

It wasn't her fault, it was just…

He liked a different kind of ass, as Mabel had said when he came out.

No, the daily overpriced coffee meetup was enough. 

“Have you talked about it to Ford? Hes got to know something about it if he went through the same thing?” 

“I don't want to bother them with it. They thought they got rid of Bill that summer, we all did. Bills my problem now.”

Pacifica gives him a knowing look. She knew that he was breaking, but couldn't figure out how to help him. 

“Hows journalism?” Pacifica takes her coffee as she changes the subject.

“As boring as it ever is. Graphic design?”

“As confusing as ever.” Dipper takes a big sip from his steaming coffee. It's a briskly cold morning, enough he brought out his knit set Mabel had made for him on their 18th birthday. He had no shame in wearing it, and it in fact felt comforting today, to know that she was still with him in heart at least.

She never grew out of her sweater thing. She still makes sweaters, using it to get her to the next rent payment sometimes. Everyone can count on a big box with sweaters from her every Christmas here in Oregon. 

With their coffees in hand, Dipper and Mabel head off to campus. And once they made it there they said their goodbyes with a hug and went their separate ways to start the day. 

Dipper wanders into the lecture hall for his advanced maths class. People filter in as he types away on his computer. 

The students around him wanted to be scientists, economists, etc. everyone found it weird that a creative writing major was not only taking advanced maths, this early in the morning, but was killing it. His grades spoke for themselves. 

The class starts and Dipper still types away on his computer. He had been bored the night before as he was staving off sleeping and had read a chapter ahead in their textbook. He taught himself the three hour lesson that day in an hour. 

It was no doubt that Dipper took after his great uncle Stanford. Grunkle Ford told him at one point that Dipper reminded him of a young Dr. Fiddleford. Dipper didn't really like being compared to the scientist that started a whole cult under Gravity Falls before going batshit crazy himself for a very long time.

He only hoped that he wouldn't end up like him. He didn't want to be some crazy man who roams the town. 

Dipper had a story that he needed to finish for his next class. He had started to wear away the stories of Gravity Falls with his creative writing classes that he now had to actually think about what story to write. Mabel helped him out with the premise of the story last night. So he spent that class writing a simple flash fiction of one roaming the backrooms. (an urban legend Mabel had read about in an article somewhere.)

He found comfort in knowing that one thing did not exist to him. That one thing did not sit in the pits of Gravity Falls waiting for Dipper or one of them to unearth it.

The story reminded Dipper of falling through the endless pit just outside the Mystery Shack. A hole where they reminisced on days of the summer as they spent the day, or who knows how long, falling. they were all lucky that it was not, truly, endless. 

And quickly the story was finished and the class closed early. 

Dipper went for an early lunch. He scrolls through his phone, seeing Mabels three new instagram posts and all the other people she introduced him to. 

After Mabel found out Dipper was gay, she went on a mission to hook him up with some LA guy. Oregons not terrible with their acceptance, but it's not something to be very open about. Plus Dipper wasn't the kind to walk pride without someone like Mabel hyping the both of them up. Because god knows that she needs just as much hyping up with who she is as Dipper.

When he walks into his empty apartment, anxiety wells up in Dippers chest. Quickly he turns on the TV, letting it run as white noise as he makes his lunch. The apartment had been empty since his recent relationship ended. Dipper is glad it ended, as the abuse just got too much; yet it was bad for Dipper to be left alone with his thoughts. Especially in an apartment that seemed to hold so much sadness and bad memories.

Mabel, after helping Dippers style, had made him a whole cookbook for him. It had all different kinds of foods, but the main dishes all were healthy. She had gone on a fitness rampage her sophomore year and had never truly grown out of it. It was from a bad place, but she turned it to a positive. As she always does. 

She had told him that it was the first thing other than sleep to keep alive longer. She had made him promise that he would try to stay alive. 

At this point it was the only thing keeping Dipper alive. 

Bill had taxed his mind so much it was rare to find him not paranoid. Bill made Dippers anxiety beyond chronic, and the lack of sleep did not help his depression. 

That had developed after Pacifica. It wasn't because of the break up, more at the fact that she had helped him so much. 

She had accepted him being gay. She had helped him gain friends during their relationship, and she even helped him when money wasn't the best. 

All this caused his anxiety to get to his head. 

What if they think I’m evil for breaking it off with her? What if she'll never want to see me again? What if, what if, what if…

His depression had just gotten  worse after the breakup and dealing with being alone again. It was the reason Dipper stayed with someone like that for so long. 

All of the depression and anxiety ended up crashing down at the same time Bill Cypher ended up crashing into the picture. 

At that point Bill only came to terrorise Dipper a few nights a month. It was easier to deal with.  Now it's every night.

Dipper finishes making his food, sitting down in front of the TV to watch a show on Netflix. 

He had been getting through the true crime shows. He swore that eventually he'd eventually either run a show like it with Mabel or be one of the cold cases lost to the world. 

Yet within only a few minutes Dipper not only found himself asleep, but stuck in the mindscape. 

“Been trying to avoid me, Pine Tree?”

Dipper no longer was shocked by Bill's voice. In fact the more and more he heard his voice, the more and more it began to sound almost human.

[evanthompsons]

daniel ezra & he/him / cis man ‷ watch out , evan thompson has crash-landed into roswell !! they look twenty five years old and celebrate their birthday on july 14th. they are from brooklyn, new york, reside in greystone complex and are currently working as grad student / tutor. one thing you should know about them is that he learnt sign language as a kid for his best friend ‷ 

hi everyone 🥺 👉👈 my name is nikki and i’m excited to be here ! i’m working on a more formal about page for evan rn but here’s a really quick overview for everyone <3 

he’s alessandra’s twin and the youngest of seven kids !!  growing up as a part of a big family was kind of .... his own personal hell tbh sjdfjkdh like he loves his family and all but also likes having his own space without people breathing down his neck 24/7

he was very content just staying in the background and doing his own thing whilst his twin sister took up the mantle of being the baby of the family. he never really liked the attention that came with it so it’s a win-win situation for everybody involved

was definitely that one annoying kid who got perfect grades and played too many sports growing up. got a bachelor’s degree in maths 🤢 and is now working towards an mba in accounting 🥱 feel free to bully him for being a nerd bc i would 

tutors part time on the side !!  mainly just helping kids with their maths homework or whatnot but he does take on the occasional college student. if u wanna brush up on smthn for whatever reason he’s ur guy <3 

kind of a little bit aloof but NOT in a jughead  ‘ i’m weird. i’m a weirdo. i don’t fit in. ’ type of way. he’s just shy and minds his own business so he doesn’t know what’s going on 99% of the time but he’s doing his best 😭

loves food but can’t cook to save his life :/ if u cook for him he’ll .... do ur taxes for free or smthn 

once u get past his initial awkwardness he’s a really great guy who goes above and beyond for his friends 🥺 love is definitely stored in the evan 

again, a formal page connections page is coming soon ( *insert rihanna winking gif* ) but some connections i can think of off the top of my head that i’d love are: 

sb who bring him out of his shell and drags him to places whilst he grumbles about assignments and deadlines

he volunteers around the community a lot so maybe sb he volunteers with ??

said college student(s) or other miscellaneous people that he tutors 

maybe someone whose kids he tutors too !!

he’s bi but he’s only recently found that out about himself so maybe someone that’s helping him navigate that discovery and introducing him to the lgbtq community 

i will definitely add more onto this as i think of things <3 <3 

[douchebagbrainwaves]

MAKER'S SCHEDULE, 631, BRIEFLY

I'm a writer, and writers always get disproportionate attention. How did they stand it? Their main expenses are setting up the company, which costs a couple thousand Altair owners, but without this software they were programming in machine language. Those ideas are so rare that you can't find some way to reach me, how are you going to create a successful company? For a startup, managing them is one of the first 10 employees you'll have almost as much.1 Families are entitled to their own traditions, and who the competitors are and why this company is going to beat them.2 In the late 90s my professor friends used to complain that they couldn't get grad students, because all the undergrads were going to let hosts rent out space on their floors during conventions. Part of the reason I can't believe it will be more like being able to play the two firms off each other as well as talent, so this answer works out to be important, because a we invest such small amounts, and b we think it's better if startups operate out of their own premises, however crappy, than the offices of their investors.

If you're a freelancer or a small company doesn't ensure freedom.3 What makes a good startup idea, it's sort of like having a guilty conscience about something.4 There's an idea that has turned out to be a startup. For a lot of work.5 Which is exactly how I'd describe the way lions seem in the wild seem about ten times more alive. You probably can't overcome anything so pervasive as the model of work is a job. Don't sit on their boards. What really bothers parents about their teenage kids having sex are complex.6 It's not so much as that they never pander: they never say or do something because that's what the audience wants. So if you're going to optimize a number, the one to choose is your growth rate to compensate. In social settings, I found that I got over 100 other responses listing the surprises they encountered. If you don't understand YC.

At the time any random autobiographical novel by a recent college grad could count on more respectful treatment from the literary establishment. The angel now owns 200/1200 shares, or a job. The kind of question on the application form that asks what you're going to clear these lies out of your head, you're going to clear these lies out of your head, you're going to do, at least, nothing good.7 I often recommend that founders act like consultants—that they wanted to.8 In a startup, you don't even know that.9 If these guys had thought they were starting companies, they might have been.10 Viaweb entirely with angel money; it never occurred to us that investors were too conservative here—that they do what they'd do if they'd been in Nebraska, like Evan Williams was at their age? The saddest windows close when other people die.

And when you propagate that constraint, the result is that each species thrives in groups of a certain group, that seems nearly impossible to shake. Someone who's figured that out will automatically focus more on the idea. The only explanation is: by definition. It's not just a figure of speech to say that the outcome is zero. The artists who benefited most from this were the ones who had preserved a child's confidence, like Klee and Calder. Once you have all the college students, you get rich is that there are many degrees of it. It could be replaced on any of these axes it has already started to be on most. When you're a little kid and you're asked to do something differently.

But not all waste is bad. Later I learned it hadn't been so neat, and the three founders each get 25%. Along with such outright lies, there must have been told a lot of economic history, and I understand the startup world is evolving away from their current model.11 If you seem really good we'll accept you anyway. Even in the rare cases where a clever hack makes your fortune, you probably have an idea.12 At least, that's how we'd describe it in present-day languages, if they'd had them. The way you get taught programming in college would be like teaching writing as grammar, without mentioning that its purpose is to make me feel better. After two years, the un-rapacious that you only extract half as much from users as you could. If you have something that no competitor does and that some subset of users urgently need, you have to seem like you understand technology.13 On that scale, every negotiation is unique.14 I was cynical about VCs, but the way he composed them into molecules was near faultless.15 But unfortunately when you graduate, as long as you want.16

Notes

Thanks to Daniel Sobral for pointing this out. Make it clear when you ad lib you end up reproducing some of the things they've tried on the LL1 mailing list. What you learn in college or what grades you got in them, initially, to sell earlier than you expect. But while this is also a name.

In fact most of them. But try this experiment is that if you conflate them you're aiming at. The worst explosions happen when unpromising-seeming startups do badly.

Y Combinator certainly never asks what classes you took in college. This approach has not worked well, but this would work better, and that modern corporate executives were, we try to accept a particular number.

Aristotle the core: the editor in Lisp, they may try to accept that investors are induced by the surface similarities. Com of their assets; and with that additional constraint, you can't help associating it with such a statement would merely be eccentric.

Most word problems in school math textbooks are bad: Webpig, Webdog, Webfat, Webzit, Webfug. Without the prospect of publication, the assembly line, the closest anyone has come is Secretary of Labor Statistics, about 28%.

I think the usual way to fight. The next time you raise as you can see the apples, they made much of it, and no one who's had the discipline to pull it off. Successful founders are driven by people trying to decide whether to go to college, they would implement it and make a lot of investors caring either.

P nonspam are both genuinely formidable, and the exercise of stock options than any preceding president, he was otherwise unoccupied, to get into the heads of would-be startup founders who had been a good idea to make more money. The best thing for startups is very long: it might take an hour over the Internet, like hedge funds, are available only to buy corporate bonds to market faster; the Reagan administration's comparatively sympathetic attitude toward takeovers; the crowds of shoppers drifting through this huge mall reminded George Romero of zombies. That it might take an hour over the Internet. Yes, I had zero effect on the relative weights?

The VCs recapitalize the company, and yet managed to screw up twice at the data, it's probably good grazing. I should add that we're not. They did turn out to be a win to include things in shows that people start to pull ahead in the field.

Galbraith was clearly puzzled that corporate executives would work so hard to mentally deal with the founders gained from running through their initial attitude. Sparse Binary Polynomial Hash Message Filtering and The Old Way. One thing that drives most people emerge from the moment it's created indeed, from hour to hour that the worm might have done all they could be overcome by changing the shape of the bizarre consequences of this: You may not be far less demand for them.

Indiana University Bloomington 1868-1970.

Trevor Blackwell points out that taking time to come up with an associate cold-emailing a startup could grow big in revenues without including the order of 10,000, because investors already owned more than their competitors, who may have realized this, but simply because he was skeptical about Viaweb too. See Greenspun's Tenth Rule. We just store the data, it's software that doesn't seem to want them; you have significant expenses other than salaries that you decide the price, and for filters it's textual.

P 500 CEOs in the sophomore year. It was only because he had more fun than he'd had in school, and philosophy the imprecise half. The philistines have now missed the video boat entirely.

As we walked out we ran into Yuri Sagalov. Emmett Shear writes: I'd argue the long tail for sports may be common in, you'll have to replace you. It took a painfully long time.

The reason Y Combinator.

This is an instance of a safe will be coordinating efforts among partners. In practice it just feels like a loser they're done, she doesn't like getting attention in the definition of property.

The thing to do sales yourself initially. 5%. At first I didn't care about GPAs.

Thanks to Paul Buchheit, Gary Sabot, Trevor Blackwell, Tiffani Ashley Bell, and Jeff Arnold for sharing their expertise on this topic.

[lillupon]

Sugar Daddy!Wonwoo

I said SUGAR DADDY WONWOO as a joke, but now I can't stop thinking about it? Look at this smug yet indulgent smile...

Click for the gif set that inspired this!

Like, holy shit, here's a guy who knows he's intelligent, successful, and attractive.

Let's make Wonwoo a corporate lawyer, early to mid-thirties, and already damn good at what he does. He has a young brother, Seokmin, who is entering his first year of university, and who also happens to be friends with Mingyu.

Being the good older brother he is, Wonwoo offers to take his younger brother shopping for school supplies: textbooks, headphones, a printer, a new laptop, etc., etc.

Seokmin invites Mingyu along, because he knows how overwhelmed Mingyu is by the massive shift in environment--Mingyu grew up in the countryside and is the first in his family to graduate high school, let alone pursue college.

The first time Mingyu and Wonwoo meet, Wonwoo is in a collared shirt and pressed slacks, a belt and tie to complete the look. Even under the summer heat, he looks cold and beautiful and austere: not a single hair out of place, no sheen of sweat on his forehead. Meanwhile, Mingyu is sweating through his threadbare t-shirt and basketball shorts (he had to run for the bus to Seokmin's house). He wipes his palm on his shorts before shaking Wonwoo's hand. The contrast of their hands is striking: Wonwoo's pale and slender fingers against his own tanned and stocky ones. Mingyu maybe shakes Wonwoo's hand for longer than is appropriate, but he can't help himself. He's never met a man so smart and beautiful. Wonders how the hell someone like Seokmin--who doesn't even know that red and yellow mix to make orange--is related to a man like this.

Wonwoo drives them to the Pledis University in a car called a 'Tesla'. Where Mingyu grew up, he's never seen a Tesla before. In his hometown, most people drive scrappy and rusted old cars that have probably been passed down from grandfather to father, and then finally to son. Wonwoo goes to pay for the parking, and Mingyu almost faints when he sees the price per hour. If this is any indication of how expensive university is, Mingyu doesn't know how the hell he's going to afford anything.

Wonwoo leads them into the bookstore. It's crammed full of people getting ready for the new school year. Mingyu spots someone carrying a twin-sized mattress through the cramped aisles, smacking people along the way. Everyone here either looks bright and excited, or dead inside. There's no in-between.

They hunt down Seokmin's books first. Mingyu trails behind the two brothers, eyes sweeping over the bookstore. It's massive and cluttered. Mingyu feels lost and overwhelmed and hurries to catch up with Seokmin and Wonwoo.

While Seokmin is searching for his required reading, Mingyu takes in the outrageous price tags of the books. He does a double take, thinking perhaps he misread the price. There's an extra zero in there, he's sure. And then his stomach sinks. He can't afford this. All the money he saved up working over the summer barely covers the cost of textbooks for the first year. He's supposed to do this four more times for his four years of college? Does he really need all these textbooks to do well in his classes? Maybe he'll be fine without them? But he wants to do better than 'fine'. He wants to do well in school and make his parents proud, show them that they aren't wasting his money by investing in him.

"How about you, Mingyu?" Wonwoo asks. "What books do you need?"

Mingyu flushes. Doesn't know how to say he can't possibly afford these things. He wonders what Wonwoo thinks of him when he looks at Mingyu. "Uh," he starts, when he realises Wonwoo is still looking at him expectantly.

"Mingyu is in the same literature and math class as me," Seokmin says, plucking up a math textbook, and then weaving through the aisles to grab a text for their literature class.

Mingyu resigns himself to buying the textbooks. He'll just purchase books for the first semester, and then take a look at his budget for the second semester.

They line up for the cashiers. It's a long line. Mingyu clutches his textbooks to his chest, occasionally stealing peeks at Wonwoo, whose brows are drawn into a vee of concentration, and whose thumbs are flying across his phone. A tiny frown tugs at his lips. Then, Wonwoo sighs and tucks his phone away. Looks up and sees Mingyu looking at him. Wonwoo smiles, and it feels like the temperature has gone up ten degrees in the bookstore.

Mingyu sets his five textbooks on the counter and takes out his wallet. Like everything else Mingyu owns, his wallet is also worn. The stitches are frayed and poking out. The cheap, synthetic leather has cracked. It's also held together at the center by duct tape. $496.12, the cashier tells him. Mingyu has never spent that much money in his life all at once. College is full of new experiences, he supposes. He fumbles for his credit card. The plastic card is lodged stubbornly within its slot, as though it doesn't want to give up its money.

And that's when Wonwoo reaches past him, swipes his card, and punches his PIN into the machine. Mingyu's head whips to face Wonwoo. He stares, eyes rounded, mouth having comically fallen open in shock. The only syllable he can manage is, "Wha--"

The corners of Wonwoo's mouth lift in a close-lipped smile, then crack to reveal a sliver of straight, perfect teeth. "Consider it a graduation gift."

Dumbly, Mingyu says, "But I haven't graduated yet."

Wonwoo laughs. "A high school graduation gift, I mean."

So. That's how it starts between them.

[much-obliged-timothy]

Dad Tim & Uncle Rhys Part 7

I had an absolutely soul-crushing, exhausting day at work and needed to write something soft. This didn’t come out the way I planned at all, but that about sums up my experience as a writer. I plan to make a master post for these shorts soon! And you can find part one here! 

Rhys had reluctantly accepted that he’d somehow gotten himself dragged into a weird relationship with the Lawrence family.

It was why he was currently making his way to Tim’s house. Tim had invited him over for dinner and drinks. The two did have a little business to discuss, but the whole evening was largely casual.

Rhys had considered refusing, but one look at Phoenix’s excited little face and he knew his fate was sealed. The kid had taken a noticeable liking to him, even as Lorelei tried to steal away his affection for herself. Rhys wished she’d win it already.

Still, he wasn’t as moody as he expected when he knocked on the front door. He’d been in the house only twice before, once when Tim was sick and once to drop off some paperwork for Tim to sign.

Tim answered the door, wiping his hands on a towel as he stepped aside to less Rhys in. “Hey, Rhys. It’s almost ready. Mind keeping an eye on my kid while I switch over the laundry? He keeps getting close to the stove.”

“I knew you invited me here just to babysit,” Rhys said, shaking his head.

“Just go make sure my kid doesn’t cook himself to a crisp for a few minutes,” Tim said, waving him away. “Wine’s on the counter if you want to help yourself.”

Rhys made his way to the kitchen. Phoenix sat on the floor, tattered bear tucked safely into his lap and toy gun in hand. He was firing it off at a paper target hung up on the wall on the other side of the kitchen.

“Boss guy,” he said, looking up at Rhys. Phoenix pointed at the shirt he was wearing, a little Atlas T-shirt Rhys had gifted him. “State a’ the art. I dressed myself.”

His mismatched socks and the plaid shirt he wore unbuttoned over the Atlas one, which also didn’t match, definitely proved that. “So I see. I like your shirt. Where are the glasses?”

Phoenix pointed to one cupboard. “There.” He pointed to another. “And those are the hard day glasses.”

Rhys opened the second cabinet and pulled out a wine glass. “I take it Tim calls it that?”

“Uh-huh. When dad gets a hard day glass, it means I get an extra scoop of ice cream to shut my mouth about it when mom calls,” Phoenix said.

Rhys set the glass down and uncorked the wine. He poured himself a generous helping, then sighed and poured a glass for Tim too to be polite.

He turned back and nearly had a heart attack. “Phoenix!” 

He lurched forward, snagging Phoenix’s shirt as he reached for the heated oven. He yanked the boy back, wrapping an arm around his chest.

“What the hell? That’s hot! That’s very hot! It’s-” He peered at the temperature, “425 degrees hot!”

Phoenix squirmed against him, effortlessly slipping out of Rhys’ hold. “It’s warm. I just wanna warm my hands.”

Tim poked his head in. “Phoenix Lawrence, are you trying to touch the oven again?”

Phoenix held up his hands. “They’re cold. I just wanna warm ‘em, dad.”

“You’re your mother’s son, you absolute headache,” Tim groaned, coming into the room. “Your hands wouldn’t be so cold if you hadn’t left the toy gun outside all damn day. It was freezing out today. That thing is never going to fully unthaw. Give it to me.”

Phoenix handed it over and Tim turned the sink on, letting the water get hot before running it over the toy. Phoenix tried to pull himself up onto the counter to watch, but failed.

Rhys sighed as Phoenix turned to him expectantly. Some part of him was admittedly touched, as Phoenix despised being touched by almost everyone but Tim. It was a sign of trust for him, something he didn’t give away easily after the trauma he’d endured growing up.

Rhys lifted the kid into his arms, letting Phoenix watch. When the gun was returned to him, he smiled wide and squirmed until Rhys set him down. He scooped up his bear and resumed his practice shots, Tim easily maneuvering around him. 

“Hey, uh, I’ve got to ask about the bear,” Rhys said, nodding to it.

“Oh. Right, a few weeks before he was born, I thought…” Tim shrugged helplessly. “I dunno, I just thought he should have some toy or something to comfort him. So I fought my way into one of the gift shops and got him that bear. Everything had Hyperion on it, nothing I could do about that. But he took right to it. Rarely goes anywhere without it, and doesn’t want a replacement. He had a blanket, too, but one of the scavengers destroyed it in a fight when they found my hideout.”

“He tore it,” Phoenix said, looking upset. “And he stabbed dad and dad bled all over it.”

Tim knelt next to Phoenix and ruffled his hair, smiling sadly. “Yea, sorry about that, pal. But we’ll find you another one, someday. If you weren’t so picky…”

“It was my blanket!” Phoenix said.

“I know, I know. Sorry I bleed when I’ve been stabbed in the leg,” Tim said. “I’ll try to keep my blood in my body and off your possessions from now on. Now, help set the table while I get the food. And if you get near that stove again, I’m going to...do...something...uh, something that’s...a stern dad thing to do?”

“That’ll show him,” Rhys said.

“Oh, shut up.” Tim stood up and began to get the food together as Phoenix tried to set the table.

“Tried” was the key word. He was too short to reach most of the tableware, and had to drag a chair around to each cupboard. Rhys finally took pity and helped him, passing down whatever he needed.

When they were done, they gathered at the table, passing plates around and piling them with food. Tim wasn’t the best cook in the world, but he’d taken to it well enough. 

“Hey,” Tim said, kicking Phoenix under the table and nodding to Rhys. “Tell boss guy what you did today.”

“I almost read a whole book by myself,” Phoenix said, eyes wide with pride. 

“He’ll be putting in his application as soon as he can read the questions,” Tim said, but he gave Phoenix a proud smile.

“Uh...where is he? School-wise, I mean,” Rhys said.

“Ahead in some areas, behind in others. We taught him how to read certain signs in the casino, and Ember taught him the alphabet. He’s really good at math, and verbally he’s pretty advanced for his age. It’s just reading and writing he struggles with,” Tim said. “We work at it every night. We do at least two hours of homeschooling a night.”

“You do?” Rhys was surprised to hear that; Tim had his assignments done so fast that he had to be working on them at home.

Tim nodded. “Yea. I bring him practice sheets to do while I work during the day, and we go over them at night and then do some lessons. I’m college educated, remember? I’m no teacher, but I went online to learn how to teach my kid myself. And Ember calls to do lessons with him.”

Rhys had to respect that. Tim could be so flippant sometimes that it was easy to forget how seriously he took raising his son. 

“Hey, um, Tim?” Rhys said. “You’re doing a great job raising him. You’re a good employee and a good dad.”

Tim seemed surprised. “I...thank you, Rhys. Thank you.”

“He’s the best dad!” Phoenix said. “‘Cept he takes forever in the shower.”

“Brat,” Tim said affectionately. 

They ate, Tim and Rhys talking their business. Phoenix was quiet as usual, not interrupting them and instead entertaining himself in a way that wouldn’t distract them.

When they’d finished the meal, Tim brought out ice cream, Phoenix’s face lighting up. Tim handed him a bowl, but he reluctantly shook his head, pointing at Rhys.

“Boss guy first,” he said.

“Me first?” Rhys said.

“Dad said guests are s’posed to get food first,” Phoenix said. He hesitated, then blurted, “But save some for me. Please.”

“I’m not going to eat the whole thing!” Rhys said indignantly. “You’d have to roll me out of here.”

Phoenix watched anxiously as Rhys scooped himself ice cream. He took a generous portion, Phoenix leaning forward a little as if he was going to complain. A look from Tim had him pouting but staying quiet.

Rhys let him sit in his misery for a moment longer before passing the bowl to him. “A thanks for setting the table.”

Phoenix smiled widely, taking the bowl. “Wow! You don’t suck, boss guy!”

“Uh, just say thanks,” Tim said with a sigh. “‘You don’t suck’ isn’t the compliment you think it is.”

“Oh,” Phoenix said. “But he doesn’t suck. Look at all the ice cream he gave me, dad.”

“Yea, we’ll just not tell your mom you ate that much in one night,” Tim said, passing another bowl to Rhys. “Schooling I’m on top of, diet I’m working on.” 

They ate their ice cream, Phoenix babbling on happily about the school lesson Tim had given him today. He was trying to tell Rhys about the story he’d read almost by himself.

When they’d finished eating, they all cleaned the kitchen together and shifted out to the living room. Phoenix sat in Tim’s lap on the couch, clutching a juice box in one hand and his bear in the other. 

“Be right back,” Tim said, nudging Phoenix off himself. “I just have to use the bathroom.”

He disappeared down the hallway. Phoenix sipped at his juice box before looking at Rhys.

“Boss guy, if I learn how to read good, can I help at work?” he said.

“Read well,” Rhys said. “Not ‘read good’. Right, not the point here. Why do you want to help at work?”

“So dad can sleep,” he said. “He gets up real early sometimes to get work done.” He fidgeted with his juice box. “‘Cause of me. ‘Cause he’s busy helping me. I wasn’t s’posed to listen, but I did and I heard mom tell dad he’s gonna work himself to death. I don’t want my dad to die. I wanna help him.” 

“That’s just a figure of speech. He won’t actually work himself to death,” Rhys assured.

But...Phoenix was right. Not only was Tim readjusting to life outside of the casino after fighting for survival daily for seven years, but he was also readjusting to having a busy, demanding job. And on top of that, he was a single father, raising his oops kid who was suffering much of the same trauma as him.

Rhys considered it. Tim rarely missed work, enough so that when he did, Rhys knew it was serious. He came early and stayed late. He left work and schooled Phoenix at home. He really had no free time for himself. His life had become work and parenting. He had no one to watch his son for a day so he could take a break.

Shit. Rhys thought back, realizing how quick he was to dismiss Tim’s obvious signs of exhaustion. The constant coffees, the bags under his eyes, the energy drinks, the way he needed to get up and pace a bit if he sat too long, his occasional quick temper. 

“Phoenix, you’re just a kid. It’s not your job to worry about your dad,” Rhys said. “He’ll be okay.”

“But-” Phoenix started.

“Let me worry about him,” Rhys said. “Do you trust me to make sure he’s okay?”

Phoenix hesitated, clearly torn. His dad was the most important person in his life. He wouldn’t trust Tim’s safety to just anyone.

But Rhys must’ve really won the kid over, because eventually, he nodded. “Yea, okay. But I’m gonna learn how to read so I can help! I promise!”

When Tim returned to the room, Rhys glanced at Phoenix. “Hey, Phoenix, there were some chips in one of the cupboards. Can you get them, please? You can have some. I’m making that call even if your dad says no.”

“Yea, fine, I already let him eat like shit. What’s one more snack?” Tim said, waving Phoenix away.

“Gotta let me, or I’ll tell mom you swore again,” Phoenix said, heading into the kitchen.

“Tim,” Rhys said, leaning forward. “Do you want a day off?”

“Huh? Nah, don’t need one. I’ll fall behind,” Tim said. “And Phoenix likes going to work with me.”

“No, I mean…” Rhys shook his head a little. “I mean from work and from watching Phoenix. Just a day. Or even an evening.”

“What, with my abundance of babysitters?” Tim said, raising an eyebrow.

“I’ll watch him.” Oh, god, he was regretting it already. But Tim deserved it, so Rhys plowed on ahead. “I’ll take him for a day so you can have some rest. He can come to my office for the day. You can sleep in, or go out or...whatever.” 

“You’d do that?” Tim looked amazed. “You’d really do that for me?”

“Yes,” Rhys said. “You’re kind of a pain in the ass, but you’re my employee and you work harder than anyone else I know. And I guess we’re...kind of...friends?”

Tim sat back. “I...thanks, Rhys.” He looked down at his wine. “Maybe...fuck, maybe if you wouldn’t mind just, you know, just taking him for an hour or two, just…” He sighed. “I’m a shit dad. Just so I can sleep in one morning. That’s all I need to recharge.”

“You just want to sleep in an extra hour or two?” Rhys said. “You don’t want to go out?”

“I’ve got nowhere to go,” Tim said. “My life changed the moment Ember told me she was pregnant. Phoenix is my responsibility, whether he was an accident or not. He’s gotten so much better since we came here, but he still has a long way to go. That’s my job to be by his side through it all, even if it’s exhausting. Honestly, Rhys, I’m not ready for time alone right now. I’m still working through my own shit from the casino. Having him with me keeps me grounded and reminds me why I have to work at getting better. But I could really, really use a little extra sleep one day.” 

Rhys laughed. “Sleep it is. You name the day, and I’ll come pick him up and take him into the office.”

Tim smiled, small but sincere. “Thanks, Rhys. You’re a good friend.”

Rhys was spared answering that as Phoenix came back in, pulling himself up next to Rhys and holding out the bag of chips. Rhys opened it and let Phoenix have a handful.

“Hey, why not read that book to me?” Rhys said.

“Really? You’ll let me?” Phoenix said.

“Well, obviously. You’ve got to get better at reading, right?” Rhys said, winking.

Phoenix beamed. “Dad! Where’s my book? Gotta read for boss guy.”

So they all sat together on the couch, Phoenix in between them. He read painfully slow and struggled often, but he managed through most of the book with little help from Tim and Rhys. They let him pick out another book to try, and Rhys found himself spending the night helping a little boy learn how to read, Phoenix determined even when he screwed up or got stuck. 

And two days later, Rhys picked him up from the house, Tim still fast asleep upstairs. He brought Phoenix to the office, telling the boy to close his eyes and hold his hands out.

When Phoenix opened his eyes, he found himself looking at a soft blanket with the Atlas logo, and “Phoenix Lawrence” stitched into the corner of it.

The smile on his face and the fierce hug he gave Rhys made it all worth it. He was suckered into this family, and as he hugged Phoenix back, he didn’t even mind it anymore.