#time to go hole up in the library and work for 7 hours

[amoeganism]

HIIII I just saw your post about your event and thought I'll be silly and request smthing ^_^ ok sooo first time meeting ness ! 😯 (one shot or hc whichever you feel more comfy writing! <3) have a great dayyy (⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠) ♪

ACADEMICALLY SMART BUT EXTREMELY STUPID alexis ness

aka. how u meet ness aka academic rivals to lovers but ness dont gaf bc hes just trying to #play #ball

you meet him at quite a young age and share a few things in common

ill fitting school uniforms and the wandering eyes of any child

while you find yourself fascinated by the numbers written on your teacher's chalkboard, ness is folding dinosaurs and stars on pieces of scrap paper, mumbling to himself

you didn't mind him and he didn't mind you

you guys were classmates and that was that

but then middle school came around and you started acting like you had a stick up your ass 24/7 as long as ness was around

like wtf that mf almost never studies why is he at the top of your class...

suddenly you get distracted in classes because you're focused on drawing mini ness figures with fat x's covering his face and devil horns

ness sees this one day after your notebook fell to the ground and at first is like omg!!! cute drawing of me as a fantasy creature but then he was like wait what the fuck why do they have it out for me????

he barely thought about you until then but apparently you've developed a passionate hatred for him just because he scores higher grades

he still has no clue

you are FUMING

so you start studying even more if that's even possible

while you go to your schools library to bust your ass in the textbooks ness goes outside with a ball he managed to shove into his bag and starts kicking it around

ness: :D ball!!!! no school!!! ball :D

you: KILL YOURSELF KILL YOURSELF KILL YOURSELF KILL YOURSELF

after one particularly hard test that you flopped (it was like an 80% be serious) you caved in and asked ness with help studying

he looked at the material and was like man idk it just makes sense

little boy thought you were going to punt him into hell like he does with his football

him, terrified out of his mind and just wanting to go to his football club meeting, sits down and looks at the material

you show him your notes and he quickly explains it but is running late on time

he gives you his number and says hes going to text you help

you went home that day like ???? that dude lied to me he isnt sending me shit ??? before it clicked

he does not text you because he does not have your number... he gave you his number...

so you swallow your pride and shoot him a message, begging for help a second time in the same day and on his end, he laughs at you a little but offers to call

you guys work on the subject for a good couple hours and before you hang up, you offer to study together for future exams because he's admittedly a good teacher

ness is trying to find a way to say "no thanks i don't care about school good luck tho XD ROFL LOLLLLL" but then he realizes that it's going to make his parents trust him a little more

he accepts and you guys go to the library together once a week

he finds that you're actually kind of funny and cool and not just a human bomb that's plotting his death

he tries to be slick about offering to meet more often

"oh... this unit is a lot more difficult than the last one.... you wanna heh.... come back tomorrow? *gulp*"

"ok"

"WOOOO"

one day ness told you he was going to try out for bastard munchen and you somewhat knew of them because of ness going on tangents about football

you supported him on it, not realizing it would cut down your weekly meetings

suddenly there was an alexis-shaped-hole in your chest but you didn't want to admit it to him

and for alexis, there was a you-shaped-hole in his chest that he tried to fill by training with kaiser and the rest of bastard munchen

yes, the team was filled with dicks, but none of them had the same foul personality you had!!

texts dvery day checking up on each other but it was nothing like hanging out in person

calls were better but still not the same

as soon as he heard about his first off day, he called you and asked to hang out

you tried to be nonchalant about it but who were you kidding both of you guys wanted to see each other again

although the directions of life the two of you were headed towards were almost polar opposites, being reunited at a stupid library table for the first time in months was all that mattered

[redflagshipwriter]

Reassembly 7

masterpost

Days went by. Peter got a lucky break and a short job offer. He holed up in the library and designed a website for a veterinarian’s office. 

Of course, that left the problem of payment. After the first day of working on the website intently he went out at night and got together all the information that he'd need to make a bank account. It was a tedious process that required going to multiple offices and faking an address. 

He barely slept that night. Nerves, man. But he got to a local bank and his paperwork apparently passed muster. 

…Was that fraud? 

Peter shrugged that thought away. It kinda seemed like the least of his problems at the moment. He was an interdimensionally stranded homeless teenager. He wasn't hurting anybody by lying so that he could find a way to feed himself. 

He was dropping weight at an upsetting rate. His only regular meal was the early morning buffets. Out of desperation he had started going to more- 5 hotels in a morning, and hitting a much bigger radius to avoid being noticed in the same places. He ate at all of them but more importantly he snuck out whatever food he could. It wasn't enough. He never got close to enough, but he had a payday coming. 

He only hung out with Kon once that week, guilty at the idea of going over to mooch food. Peter was busy, anyway. In the hours the library was closed he needed to go to the gym and take care of his hygiene, to break into offices, and to dumpster dive for more discarded clothing. 

He got more socks and a package of underwear, which did a lot for morale. It wasn't as stressful as his first attempt. He was able to be pickier now, at least. It wasn't like he had a ton of space to store anything. It was so frustrating to wash his clothes in the sink with body soap because he could never get them all dry. He ended up splaying things out on the library roof and just hoping that the wind didn't take them away. 

He got to the point where he couldn't go any further on the website without all the copy from the business. Peter spent his library hours reading history and current events and science. He spent an hour reading about the test he'd apparently need to take to get a legitimate qualification for college. He needed 50 dollars to sign up, and that was almost all the cash he had… 

He grimaced through actual stomach pains about it, but Peter forked it over and got signed up for the next test. 

He ended up spending a dollar and ten cents at a dollar store for a shitty phone cord to charge the old flip phone. He regretted it the next time he turned the thing on and found out that the service had been suspended.

Peter wasn't proud about it but he cried. He put his face in his hands and he cried. Everything was just so hard, all the time, and he was tired. 

The veterinarian got back to him with about half the information he needed. Peter plugged in their business hours, programmed a scheduling system, and amended the comments form. He still needed their logo. He waited on that and he studied for his test. 

It turned out that he had underestimated the cultural differences here. He ended up going through an online list of the most commonly read novels in high school and frantically read as many as possible. 

Kon showed up while he was walking to the library one morning after breakfast. Peter pulled up short to keep from walking into the guy and let out a frankly embarrassing sound.

“Hey, Pete,” Kon said breezily. He ignored the yelp like he hadn't even heard it. “So I was thinking that if I wanted to go to college there's stuff to do? And I don't know what.” He waited expectantly. 

“...There's a test,” Peter offered. “Gotta sign up.” 

Just like that, he had a study buddy. They tried to get him signed up that day but ran into difficulty with paperwork. Kon was cagey about it. Peter took him at his word the next day when he said it was handled, expression pinched. 

Studying with Kon was a little weird because the guy was like an encyclopedia but he also clearly thought he was a dummy. He could rattle off any formula that Peter asked about, knew dates and names, but he was basically petrified about writing a short answer question. Peter tried to be encouraging, but he didn't really know if it helped. It didn't hurt at least.

Days passed and became a week, then two. The veterinarian’s office paid him and left him a nice review on the freelance website. Peter did not spend a cent. He made endless lists ordering his priorities and plans, hands shaking.

He had almost a thousand dollars. That was a lot of money. It also really, really wasn't. 

What he wanted to do- he wanted to get a hotel and sleep in a real bed, as long as he wanted, and to feel good about eating the complimentary breakfast. But that would be wasteful. Wouldn't it? He didn't literally have to. He should save everything. No, he should buy more food– but if he got restaurant food it was a waste, it was much cheaper to cook- but he couldn't, without a kitchen.

Peter talked himself in circles that way, hands fisted in his hair. It was about an hour past midnight on the day he'd gotten paid and he was in the library, on the couch that wasn't really long enough for a teenager to stretch out on. 

Well. Peter sniffled. The inhalation brought with it the slightly musty scent of his clothes. 

He could use a laundromat, as a modest splurge. Hygiene was crucial. Hand washing the clothes had kind of been working but it was probably a better measure for stretching out between proper washes than a substitute for using real fabric soap. It wasn't irresponsible to maintain what he owned and to make sure he could pass in general society.

Peter felt a little better after deciding that. He rolled into the sofa to bury his face in the back. Honestly. He could just give himself a small budget without doing much to sabotage his savings. Say, 50 dollars? 

‘I absolutely need to eat more,’ Peter decided. He bit his lower lip. The occasional dinner with Kon only went so far. 

So. He needed to get something that was cheap, relatively nutritious and calorie dense. Portable, too, since all he had for storage was the bag.

…come to think of it, he should probably wash that too. 

“Alright, I have a game plan,” Peter muttered to the empty library. “In the morning I'll wash everything, then go to a grocery store.” 

Thankfully he was able to fall asleep after that. He bounced his leg up and down as he waited for the washing machine to finish.

Cheap, calorie dense foods. Obviously, rice or beans would have been best, but he couldn't cook that. The library had pitchers of hot water for patrons to use with tea bags but they weren't going to be hot enough to actively cook rice. 

…Oatmeal. Instant oatmeal would work that way, though. He could scoop some into the paper cups and - well, it would be a little weird, but not that conspicuous. 

Laundry took a very long time when he didn't have anyone to text, or a functioning phone to do it on. Peter briefly considered if he could prioritize getting a phone plan, and then decided not really. He took out his notebooks, which were nearly full at this point. He had the slightly anxious thought that he was going to have to buy another one soon. Oh, heck, he'd need a whole bunch of stationery if he was going to go to college. He let out a shaky breath, thinking of all the things he absolutely had to have, never mind the things he wanted to have, like a bed. 

‘Maybe they'll have cheap dorms. No, wait, if I stay in dorms then I'll be homeless between semesters.’

Peter buried those worries down deep. He needed to deal with them, but it didn't have to be right now. 

His vague plan worked out at the store. He got a bag of oatmeal for a few bucks, and then got himself a few supplementary treats. Aka, a little tube of nice toothpaste, a cheap nail clipper, a bag of protein bars, and a bunch of bananas that he carefully nested on top of the clothes in his bag. He ate one as soon as he left the store and threw the peel into the trash can. 

As soon as he had access to a kitchen, he was going to buy like, a big bag of rice and beans, a bunch of onions and bell peppers, and like two seasonings. Cumin and garlic powder? Coriander? Whatever. Oh, can't forget salt and pepper. 

The point was that he could eat so much more and so cheaply as soon as he had a stove and a pan. Peter bit his lip and promised himself that he was going to get to that point as soon as possible. Within the month. 

Oh. He stopped in his tracks. He didn't actually have to wait for the school year to start. 

People walked around him on the sidewalk. He felt like he was in a school of fish. He felt a little alien and silly.

That was so obvious. If Gotham was a nightmare place to live, then there would be cheap shitty apartments there. Sure, the 860 he had left in his bank account probably wasn't enough to get an apartment. But it was a really good start. If he got like, one or two more jobs and didn't spend much of the money, he could find the dingiest corner of Gotham and scuttle up the wall with a bag of dried beans. 

Peter did a fist pump and didn't give a hoot that he was in public. He had a plan! A solid plan. Gotham apartment, academic testing, then university: and then, uh. 

Hmm. Peter frowned. There was a bit of a gap in his plan there.

Well. Hopefully at university he'd figure out the dimensional travel thing. How hard could it be?

[noodyl-blasstal]

Maff Guy

It's @taznovembercelebration day 22 and we're still on the train, baby! Today's prompt was "fix it" and this happened. I think it's prime for the expanding at some point though?

Read below or on Ao3, catch yesterday's here if you missed it!

-

Maff Tutor Wanted

That definitely wasn��t on the notice board last night when Kravitz was closing. The request was polite though, kindly worded, enough to make Kravitz believe that “Taako” really did want some help. Kravitz snags the poster, he’s not going to reduce his chances by letting anyone else apply. What was another job to add to his collection? Orchestra did not pay as well as people seemed to think - especially in the season break that Gerald insisted they have because when else was he going to visit the second house his family bought him as a treat for graduating. Not that Kravitz was bitter. No no, it’s fine. It’s even more fine that Gerald got all the solos because his parents were very generous with their donations. Totally and completely fine.

Kravitz carefully adds the number to his phone and forgets about it until break time when the poster falls out of his bag as he attempts to wrestle his reading out. His manager had banned him from reading at the register, even when the place was empty.

Kravitz [10:32] Dear Taako, Are you still looking for a maths tutor? My name is Kravitz and I would be willing to work with you on your math ability. Kind regards, Kravitz.

Kravitz is face first in a paragraph about orchestral arrangements which seems to be trying its best to be as incomprehensible as possible when his phone buzzes.

Taako - Maths Tutoring [10:48] That’s what it’s called here? When can you start?

Kravitz reads it again, just in case he’s missing something, but nope. What the fuck do they call it anywhere else? Oh… Unless it’s the math/maths thing?

Kravitz [10:49] Dear Taako, Thank you for getting in touch. I’m free Thursday evenings between 7am and 9pm, Fridays 10am to 3pm, and Sundays any time. Would any of these slots be suitable for you? Kind regards, Kravitz

He’s rereading the paragraph for the four(…teenth?) time when Taako replies again.

Taako - Maths Tutoring [10:58] Taako’ll take all of the above.

All of them? Kravitz does some quick mental maths (to warm up for the tutoring) the wage on the poster times all of those hours is many many of money. So many of money he might be able to jack in the survey job. He loathes having to con people into filling out their personal details on the stupid little tablet computer for a ‘chance to win’. He especially hates that they’ve started using GPS to make sure he’s ‘on the move’ i.e. not holed up in the toilets making up answers for a variety of fake people he’s busy inventing… in his defence, it was very rainy. Taako might be a murderer, but there’s not really a way to ask that that won’t lose him the job. Taako’s also probably not going to reply with yes I super duper am, swing by at 7 and give him a heads up on said murdering. He’ll give it a go, then decide whether to quit the Pulse of Neverwinter role or not.

Kravitz [10:59] Dear Taako, Okay, shall we meet at the library? We can start tomorrow. Kind regards, Kravitz.

He rehouses everything in his bag and makes it back to the counter before Jenkins can yell at him for going over his allotted break time. When he’s allowed his 15 minutes for lunch (Jenkins’ break schedule is bordering on sadistic) there’s one final text waiting for him.

Taako - Maths Tutoring [11:02] CU there.

Kravitz stands nervously in front of the library. He’s swiftly realising that describing himself or setting a meeting point other than ‘the massive fuck off library’ may have been helpful.

“KravitzSaysWhat” Says a voice from behind him.

“Wuah!” Kravitz jumps and spins to look at the speaker.

“Well that’s no fun, you’re supposed to say what.” The man, the very handsome man, stood behind Kravitz pouts adorably.

“What?”

“Better late than never.” The man smiles wide and wild. He has a gap between his front teeth and what looks like days old eyeliner under his eyes. Kravitz thinks he might be the most most handsome man he’s ever seen. “The handle’s Taako, I believe you’re maff guy?”

“I… uh.” Kravitz says intelligently, tutor-ily, super responsible trust me with your education-ily. In his defence, he didn’t expect to have to use his being-normal-around-hot-guys brain alongside his thinking-brain today. “Oi oi, pleased to meet you.”

Oh good.

Fucking perfect.

He’s cockney now apparently. He truly thought he was past the anxious accent. Shit.

“Ooooh, a man with an accent, Taako loves it. So, shall we get down to it?” Taako gives him a slow once over and Kravitz wonders if they’re still talking about the tutoring. Honestly, Taako could teach him anything any time, he’d listen. Maybe they could take turns?

“Sounds good to me.” He remembers the accent, thank the lady. “I booked a study room.”

Taako tilts his head and frowns at Kravitz. “You’re not a murderer right? If you are and you don’t tell me it’s entrapment.”

“No.” Says Kravitz. “But that’s probably what a murderer would say… Are you one? I wanted to ask, but just picked a public place as I thought you’d probably lie if you were.”

“Cool.” Taako shrugs and doesn’t say anything about his murderous intent or lack thereof. “My sister made me ask.”

“Do you need to tell her you checked?”

Taako scoffs. “Already did, handsome.”

He’s walking away before Kravitz can decide whether he’s more interested in the fact Taako definitely didn’t text his sister during their conversation or being called handsome by him. Apart from he can, and it’s the latter, even though it probably shouldn’t be. Kravitz sets his shoulders back, stands tall, and follows behind. Handsome! Taako thinks he’s handsome.

–

“Okay, so I’m gonna level with you. Cha’boy gave up learning maff like mmmm, 50 years ago, it kept being different and I was just passing through, but now cha’boy’s staying put there’s no escaping it. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

Kravitz is baffled. Those are definitely all words he knows, but they sure aren’t in an order he can comprehend.

“So now that you’ve decided to stay here…” Kravitz pauses, hoping Taako may decide to fill in a blank for him here.

“You forgot about your accent.”

“I mean…” Kravitz tries in his very Cockney twang.

“Nope!” Taako cuts him off. “Too late. You can tell me all about why you decided to do that later, but right now, Taako needs to know how to add shit because he keeps fucking up in shops and apparently my sister and brother in law decided to fall in love with a place that has taxes.” Taako glares at the concept of taxes which is apparently currently inhabiting the corner of the room.

“Okay. Where would you like to start?”

“Just gimme everything. You don’t need to know baby speed, I know gangals.”

“I’m sorry, you know what now?”

“Nevermind, let’s build it from the ground up. I bet you’d construct some lovely foundations.” Taako’s eyes linger on Kravitz’s mouth.

Kravitz has no idea what the double entendre is entendre-ing at, but he’s a big fan of whatever is happening right now.

“Are you familiar with the Arabic numerals, like 1-10?” Kravitz asks. There’s something he’d like to be familiar with, but it’s not number based.

“I can think of something I’d like to be familiar with.” Taako has no shame, he doesn’t even look vaguely embarrassed.

Kravitz ploughs on valiantly… he can think of something else he’d like to plough. Oh shit. No. This was bad teaching. Could you get fired for impure thoughts? “Maybe if you write here the numbering system you’re used to we can work from there?”

“Whatever you say, kemosabe.” Taako takes the pen from his hand and begins scribbling. A few minutes later the page is full of incomprehensible squiggles and a number 5.

Kravitz points to it happily. “I know that one.”

“Everywhere does, it’s the one thing that never changes. Taako doesn’t count on much, but he can always count on five.” Taako laughs then, like he’s just told a great joke, like he’s the funniest man alive.

Kravitz laughs too. Taako can be whatever he wants to be.

An hour and a half later and Taako’s got the hang of the numbers. He knew most of them, it was just the order that was tripping him up. Kravitz is almost disappointed when he realises they’re at a natural stopping point.

“So, you said all of Sunday was free… Wanna come see my ship? Taako’ll cook you dinner as a thank you for the numbers.”

Kravitz should say that it’s fine, he should say he doesn’t go to clients’ houses, he should say that Taako doesn’t need to pay him back for anything because he’s literally paying him.

“You live on a house boat?”

Taako cocks his head and looks at Kravitz for a moment, then smiles. “That sure is a thing you can call it.”

-

Hope you enjoyed! Wanna read more? You can find the next prompt here.

[karmagotme]

I'm rather proud of this, even if it did take me about a month to complete.

Let me explain.

I'm normally a cross stitcher, but I'd been seeing a lot of embroidery tricks on Pinterest (chronic scroller) and have been wanting to try the tulip button stitch for quite some time. Unfortunately, I had no jackets or cardis appropriate enough to try it on, so I hit up the Rockmans website and got this fuzzy thing for $20 (marked down from $80, mind, so I'd call that a win). It eventually arrived and it came with buttons like this:

Blingy, no holes, and so heavy they were drooping off the cardi and making it a lop sided garment when worn unbuttoned.

In other words, perfect.

Before I could start lopping them off, I had to make sure I had replacement buttons. As I live in small town with barely any decent crafting supplies, I needed to wait for a day off work where I could travel the hour and a bit away to my closest Spotlight. The day finally came, I took in the spare/replacement button the cardi came with, hunted through the minimal button section (why do buttons not come in those long tubes with the sample button on the lid anymore? Sometimes I would like to buy more than one button? Or more than three??) and walked away with a packet of mixed white buttons.

Then my stupid brain hit.

When I finally had another day for me to work on my cardi, I opened the button packet and started rummaging. I pulled out the various buttons that had been the same size as the original buttons, lamented that the creamy ones with the slight flower petal design on them only numbered 3, and realised that in order to find enough of the right size buttons that were all the same type, I was going to have to sort them.

I ... may have a problem when it comes to sorting.

Sorting things takes me AGES. Not that I think I'm bad at it, I think I'm too GOOD at it. My usual sorting items of choice are books. You won't believe how much enjoyment I get at spending days sorting our library after every time we've had to move house. And just like with sorting books, buttons seem to have their own distinctions. Buttons with 2 holes. Buttons with 4. Buttons with writing. Buttons with SHEEN. SPECIFICALLY COLOURED SHEEN. THERE WERE SO MANY BUTTONS WITH GREEN SHEEN AND, LIKE, THREE WITH PINK?!

Anyway.

I believe the task of sorting them into pairs or more of identical buttons - with a small pile of Lonesome Larries to the side - followed by bagging up the piles, and followed THEN by glad wrapping the rest of them because I had limited amount of little baggies, took me a good couple of hours. In the end, I had a pile of 7 of these plain white buttons of the right size, so at least I have 2 spare if I ever lose any in the future.

And then I discovered just how difficult a French knot can be.

Mini videos on Pinterest generally don't explain how to do things in words. I'm a visual learner, I think, so I thought I'd be able to do this just by following the example. I struggled for a long time, @itchylimpet 's Ma even tried to help me to no avail, and after watching many videos and reading one article on how to do it, I finally managed to do it without making a horrible mess. I continued on, paused for dinner, and by the pitch of night I had finally finished.

So, there you have it. One project that resulted in barely much but took forever to do. I am proud that I eventually managed to get it and I am excited at trying out some other embroidery projects I have in mind. I know this is probably silly, considering it was just a button change, but I like this.

[bluehouryoongi]

BITE ME- 1: The Beginning

Pairing: Jake x Female Reader

Genre: Vampire Enhypen and Human Reader College Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU

Synopsis: Set in present-day Pacific Northwest US. Y/n in a college student, and keeps to herself. One day, she has strange encounters with two statuesque men, one of which invites her to a party (at their mansion ofc) where she drunkenly confesses that she can't pay her rent. Vast and highly believable events ensue, leading to her live with 7 a-little-too-perfect guys. That's all you need to know.

Chapter Summary:

A short baby first chapter because getting things started is hard. I promise y/n is not insufferably annoying, our girl is struggling for the first few chapters. Her badassery comes with time, promise;)

← Masterlist – Next→

PROLOGUE:

It’s already looking like it’s going to be a cold, dark winter. That comes with the territory of living in the Pacific Northwest, however it is still hard to combat the seasonal blues. Over the years, I have floated between friend groups, never quite sticking with one. Everyone always seems to be better friends with each other than they are with me. That’s okay, though. I like to keep to myself, it’s easier that way. I grew up being close with my family, never feeling the lack of friends. When I got the opportunity to come to this University to study English Literature on a hefty scholarship, I had no choice but to move 6+ hours away from them. It’s been almost 3 years here, and I am still getting by on my own. I have my cousin Gracie, who, although lives across the country from me, still texts me everyday and Facetime's me every few. School keeps me busy, and when I am not holed up in the library writing papers, I am working at a local bookstore Mont Blanc Books. My life is simple, and I am going to do my best to keep it that way. Why do I have a strange feeling this dark season might bring along new changes to that simplicity as well?

CHAPTER 1:

Of course it would start raining as I walked out of my class. Of course I did not bring an umbrella. Fast walking awkwardly with my head down, it is. Damn, is the water literally falling horizontally from the sky? Why is every single droplet hitting my eyes right now? I settle into a quick rhythm, weaving through any of the students who actually brought an umbrella today and are taking their sweet time down the path. I look up for a split second, just in time to ram right into the chest of someone.

“Oh my god,” I say, stopping in my tracks but not quite looking up to examine who I ran into. These raindrops are still threatening to pierce my vision.

“Sorry, I think that was my fault” says the voice. A light accent coating the words.

Wait, I know that voice. I look up, just in time to make the connection that the person I just collided with is Jake. As in, the ever elusive and yet somehow still painfully charming Jake. We took a Romantic Era Literature class together last semester, and of course he always had thoughtful insights to add to the class. I couldn’t just chalk him up to being some annoying jerk who ran through girlfriends almost as quickly as I was just fast walking. No, he actually could somehow be both a mysterious playboy and a dedicated student who said things like; “Frankenstein's monster could have lived among the humans, it's just everyone was too scared to ever see past his intimidating exterior”.

Yes I can quote things he said in class. No, we don't need to think further about that.

At the moment, I am still staring awkwardly at him and thinking about everything except what I will say next. So instead, I do what I always do. Laugh when it is unnecessary to fill the silent void. I also notice that I am not feeling any rain, because Jake is holding an umbrella over himself and (now,) me. I stand up straight and say;

“Nope, definitely my fault.” Cue another awkward chuckle on my end. “I should have been looking where I was going…it's just this rain seems to be out to get me today and-”

“It's fine. No harm done, really” Of course he's nice in real life too, and not just in front of professors.

“Thanks. Well, I’m gonna just…go.” Wow. You would think I have read enough books to be able to have a normal conversation with a devilishly handsome boy, and yet here I am.

“Take this,” he says, holding out the umbrella.

“Oh no, that’s not necessar-” before I can finish he starts walking away, in the direction I came.

I stand dumbfounded for a moment. Looking ahead of me, and then realizing the shock also took away my manners, I turn around and start saying “thank you!” but he’s gone. Weird. The walkway is straight, with no other paths crossing into it where he could have turned. He just…disappeared. Whatever. I am cold and wet and would like to be in my car now. As I walk, I replay the interaction over and over in my head.

—

I clock in for my shift at Mont Blanc. It is a Thursday night, which means it should be pretty quiet. We don’t get a ton of foot traffic as it is, but especially not on weeknights. As I sit behind the front desk, I pull out my current read: Dracula. We are reading it in my Bookworms of the PNW group for November. We have already read Twilight (which was my pick because, duh. Classic.) and Carmilla over the past couple of months. We are clearly on a vampire kick. Next we are reading Interview with a Vampire by Anne Rice. It felt fitting, as it’s feeling more and more like winter. Plus we all like to compare hot vamps and discuss the lore. I have always loved gothic literature. There's something about reading books about monsters who are also human that will always get me.

After about thirty minutes of reading, the bell signaling the door opening rings. I look up, and it's a tall boy with white-blonde hair. I recognize him from campus; he’s hard to miss. He's gorgeous, and has an energy about him that you can’t forget. Not to mention the fact that he and his 6 other brothers are well known among the school for being the most attractive, most popular, and throwing the best parties. Now that I think about it, I don’t think they are actually all brothers. Considering the fact that they are all the same age and don’t all look alike. Hm. I will have to investigate that further later. Me and my cousin, who I rant to about anything and everything, have started calling them 'the statues'. It was birthed after I was explaining how they literally look like they are made of porcelain, or glass. It doesn't seem humanly possible to look so effortlessly cool, but who am I to judge that.

“Welcome in!” I say.

He nods, and smiles. Walking up to the counter, slightly leaning on it towards me.

“Looking for anything in particular today?” I ask.

“No, just…wanted to look.” He is staring at me a bit intensely. I don’t feel uncomfortable, just very…seen.

“Alright! Well, let me know if you need any help.” I expect him to start looking around the store, but instead, he cocks his head to the side and examines me further.

Weird. “Have we met before?” I ask. Damn, conversations are not coming easy to me today.

“No. I’m Sunoo, although I believe we go to the same University.”

“Oh!” Yeah, I knew that already. Let’s not seem creepy, though. “ Yeah, I think I have seen you around a couple times. I’m Y/n.”

He smiles. I smile. Somehow, I don’t feel awkward. There’s a kindness about him.

“I love your hair. Delicious color. Not many can pull it off.” He says.

Interesting choice of words. I’m flattered though and chuckle, running my hands through it as if to say ‘oh this old hair?’.

“Thanks! It's my favorite color.”

My hair is dyed a deep red. In most lighting, it just looks black. If the sun or a light hits it just right, though, you can tell.

“I could say the same about yours! It’s giving jack frost in the least weird way possible.” I say before I can think about it further. I internally cringe at myself.

He just laughs, and smiles. “You’re funny. I like you.” He lightly points at me as he says this. I just smile in response because, thanks? “Hey…if you're not busy tomorrow night we are having a party at my place. You should come by. Lots of music, people, booze…”

Not to play the ‘i'm not like other girls’ card, but I really don’t do college parties. However, something about Sunoo makes me want to say yes. I also may or may not be thinking about Jake and how he will most definitely be there. I just need to return the umbrella, okay? Plus, these boys are well known around the University for having the biggest ragers. Professors practically expect the reason students will miss a monday morning 8am class is because of them. We don’t have “greek life” at my University, however these 7 boys are the closest thing we have to a fraternity. If I were to explain their persona in just a few words it would be “clean frat boys”. Far too put together and academically driven to be real frat bros, however they always have different girls at their sides. Like I said-statues.

“Cool! That sounds…super fun” I try and sound like this wouldn’t be my first college party.

He smiles, clearly seeing right through me. He reaches out to the stack of post-its on the desk and grabs a pen from the cup next to it. He starts writing something down, which I come to see is the address.

“Great. See you tomorrow then?” He asks.

“Yep, I’ll be there!” I try not to sound too eager, but also how should you respond when someone you have never interacted with shows up and randomly invites you to a party?

He stops leaning on the counter and walks to the door. He looks back once more and grins, to which I smile back. I look down at the post-it with the address. It is then that I realize he came in and never looked around. Strange. He wouldn’t have come just to invite me to the party, right?

What a weird, weird day.

[wolfverse-stories]

Magneto's Kids

Chapter 7

     Wanda is by far the smartest of Erik's children so, of course, she has all honors classes, which means she has to study a lot. The week before a test she'll lock herself in her room with her notes and books. She refuses to come out for anything, so Erik put a mini fridge in her room so she wouldn't starve. Her brothers are always trying to get her to take a break but of course, she stubbornly refuses.

     "Come on you've been stuck in that room for four days" Pietro started knocking on the door.

     "Go away I'm trying to study" Wanda shouted as she grabbed another book. Pietro started knocking on the door at super speed for about an hour before he got tired and gave up. Peter's eyes shone as he got an idea.

     "You know, I saw this thing where this guy moved his molecules fast he could phase throw walls" Pietro rolled his eyes.

     "Was this in one of your comic books?" Peter nodded walking back from the door. "You realize this is never going to work" but Peter was already darting for the wall in less than the blink of an eye he crashed into the wall leaving a good-sized hole.

     "PETER!!!!!!" Wanda's eyes turned red as her hands balled up into fists. 'That's not a good sign' Peter thought as he was surrounded by red energy.

     "Wanda please just calm down I can explain" A blue streak darted past and in two seconds Pietro had placed the restraint bracelets on Wanda.

     "Okay here's the deal sis, you are getting out of this room, you are going to relax and you are going to have fun," Pietro said grabbing her books and throwing them into a bag "And you can't have this back until you have four hours away from the house" Pietro threw the bag to Peter since he was the expert at hiding things. He hides Magneto's helmet at least once a day.

     "I'll go to the library" Pietro shook his head "Movies?" Pietro nodded. Wanda sighed as she grabbed her coat. "Fine let's just get this over" Both speedsters cheered as they ran to the car.

     "What movie do you want to see," Pietro asked as he pulled out of the driveway. Wanda carefully thought over this before she replied.

     "Now you see me" Peter was happy he had wanted to see 'Now You See Me' ever since it came out Pietro was just glad it wasn't another love story.

     "Okay we can go out for ice cream afterward" Pietro slowly pulled into the parking lot. Peter tried his best not to show how excited he was, this was his first time going anywhere with his older siblings.

Time skip

     "That movie was amazing!" Peter shouted as they walked out of the theater. Wanda giggled at his childish behavior.

     "Now is a pretty good time to go get ice cream," Pietro said dumping an empty mega-size popcorn bag in the trash. Peter nodded with enthusiasm.

     "How can both of you still eat, you had a pack of gummies, two hot dogs, five candy bars, two large sodas, and a mega popcorn each" Wanda stared at them in shock.

     "Super speed equals super metabolism" Peter pointed out as he darted for the car. By the time they got to the ice cream shop Wanda was ready for ice cream,  she didn't get anything other than a drink at the theater to save room.

     "Ok one Twinkie and cream icecream with strawberries, whipped cream, and chocolate syrup" Pietro announced as he handed Peter his ice cream "One raspberry cheesecake with chocolate chips and chocolate," he said handing Wanda her ice cream "And one coffee ice cream with chocolate and strawberries," Pietro said before taking a bite of his.

     "Okay, I've got to admit this was a great idea" Wanda smiled as she took a bite of her ice cream.

     "Hey, Peter did I ever tell you about the first time me and Wanda got Dad to eat ice cream?" Peter shook his head "When he first took a bite he loved it and started eating it way too fast, he got a brain freeze and thought he had been poisoned" Wanda nodded giggling.

     "One time I was eating smarties and he thought I had taken drugs so he took me to the emergency room"They each took turns telling stories until about ten then they all went home curled up on the couch and played Go Fish until they fell asleep. Two days later Wanda got a hundred on the test and decided she would start taking more study

Prev. / Next

[frogsandfries]

I'm not having a good time, you guys.

My head hurts.

Yesterday, I had an asthma/allergy attack basically all day because I decided to dig in the grass.

I'm allergic to everything. Cat hair, grass, dust, animal shit. I'm pretty sure I'm also allergic to the chickens because why the fuck not. And every time I sneeze or my nose runs, my bronchioles tighten up.

My head hurts basically all the time because either I'm not eating enough, I'm dehydrated, and/or the weather is shit.

I feel like my sister isn't listening to me. I said "I need knee pads" and she bought a shovel, which, idk, isn't useless for digging in the dirt; she eventually wants to plant some trees. But I'm trying to make this tiny little channel to put down some chicken wire. I'm not trying to make this hugeass situation. I want a tiny channel so we can just kick the dirt back into the hole and not have to spend forever fighting with the chicken wire.

I said "palm sander" repeatedly. She went and bought this hugeass thing that's labeled "buffer". It's going to eat through the wood that I have if I try to use it.

I'm also down because my friend from middle school is pregnant.....for the third time, and while I wish her luck, I'm also bitterly jealous. I'm so jealous, I might as well be forest green from head to toe.

I'm so overwhelmed. I used to joke about living at work, but at least I used to do my eight hours, shut off my computer and not worry about my job until my next shift. With this job, I literally never leave. I'm on call 24/7. It never ends. And my sister has found ways to pile on even more, and more, work on top of the basics.

Not only do I have to keep the dishes caught up, but I also have to hustle on this garden project, which is made more complicated by the rabbits who already think our lawn is a luscious paradise-slash-endless buffet.

Not only do I have to get a move on on this garden project, I also have to plan out how to put a door on this shed so that we can use the space as a chicken house.

Not only do I have the extra projects of making sure the chickens get fed and the plants are appropriately watered, I still have to keep an eye on the small animals and the cats and the dogs.

It's too much.

I didn't even know she had four cats when I agreed to live with her, never even fucking mind the dog.

And yeah, eventually I would have finally cracked, after pushing myself desperately beyond my limits. I would have quit my job with no backup plan in sight and I would have had to call my sister to move. That job sucked so badly. It was soul sucking. It's hard to listen to people day after day whose lives were going poorly, and to be unable to do anything for them.

I've been thinking about going into computer science for a while now.

I'm thinking about taking my laptop out to the library, applying for FAFSA and one of the local colleges. I already emailed this person I'm working with that I want to focus on getting my license.

I'm also thinking about applying for at least partial disability because it's getting pretty fucking apparent that I simply can't do this. I'm too.......damaged to be a fully independently functioning person. But I'm doing better than previous generations of my lineage. I know I have a problem and I'm not pretending that it's actually a series of choices that I'm making on purpose.

I'm not just dropping out of society. I'm trying to find ways to have my independence--mostly because the only person I've ever felt safe relying on is myself. I don't want to be a burden. I want to have extras in my life, like fast food and art supplies. I want to buy my own clothes and my own furniture and I don't want to owe anyone. I don't want to be asking for more than someone has to offer.

I don't want to be depressed and I don't want to sleep my life away. I have shit I want to do with my life.

[loganrestarts]

Beginner Artist Study Recap: January 2025

How did I do with my studies for January?

Well, I didn’t even start coming up with my plan until more than halfway through the month (and I just kept adding more and more every day) so it was a little too aspirational.

What I Planned

Check out my Q1 planning post to see what I intended to do for January!

What I Did

Here’s what I actually studied in the last couple of weeks in January, mostly in order:

Materials

[Book] Steal Like an Artist by Austin Kleon

[Book] Art & Fear by David Bayles

[Reddit] r/ArtistLounge: How to get better at observing the world around me?

[Book] Debt Free Art Degree: Foundations in Drawing by Marco Bucci. Chapters: 1.

[YouTube] Veritasium: The 4 Things it Takes to Be an Expert

[YouTube] Ian Roberts: 5 Principles to Master Anything

[YouTube] Proko: Getting Better Faster - Painting with 80/20 Rule

[YouTube] Love Life Drawing: 10 Stages of Learning Any Art Skill

[YouTube] Marc Brunet: How to Draw Anything - The 7 Fundamentals

[YouTube] Marc Brunet: Stop Learning to Draw the Wrong Way

[YouTube] Marc Brunet: The Most Important Art Skill

[YouTube] Uncomfortable: Drawabox Playlist (Lesson 0 Parts 1-5)

[YouTube] belartsy: the “right” way to start learning how to draw

[Book] Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain by Betty Edwards. Chapters: Introduction.

Activities

Drawing a bunch of lines and ellipses from the shoulder

Do whatever I want!

Work on some hand lettering worksheets I made in Canva

What I Learned

I took detailed notes in my commonplace book and may put them into a Notion page, but here are the highlights: 

Sometimes I can get a library book on hold in two days, and sometimes I have to wait three weeks.

Every “how to draw” book and class considers different things “fundamentals” – and even the ones that agree on what they are, teach them in a different order.

It’s easy to fall into a YouTube rabbit hole for hours. Create as much as you consume.

Training your muscles to draw from the shoulder and elbow instead of the wrist is hard!

Deliberate practice means spending time on the things just outside of your comfort zone; mastering the things that are difficult is where you’ll improve the most.

Fail more to learn more. Fail faster to learn faster.

(Steal Like an Artist) Imitation is copying. Emulation is transforming. Nobody is born with a style. Learn and develop your work by reverse engineering other works.

(Art & Fear) The work you make is always one step removed from what you imagined. All art pieces, especially failures, are essential – most of the work you make will be subpar, but it teaches you how to make great work. Learning from work = learning to work.

(Art & Fear) Take time away from finished work to let it settle into you understanding it better later.

(Art & Fear) Have art block? Go back to what was successful or familiar or satisfying, and follow the same routine to recreate the headspace you were in when you could work.

(Proko) 80/20 rule: Spend 20% of time and information on 80% of what you need to improve.

(Drawabox) 50% rule: Spend 50% of your time studying and practicing, and 50% of your time drawing for drawing’s sake.

(Drawabox) Spatial Reasoning is seeing things and knowing how they really exist in a 3D space so you can learn how to flatten them in art.

(Drawabox) Draw with a pen. Drawing with a pen makes you think about your line placement before you actually mark the page. Drawing with pencil allows you to merge thinking and doing into one action.

(Reddit) Observation is about forgetting iconography and image shortcuts and really breaking down what you see into its basic elements like shapes, colors, silhouettes, outlines, etc..

I still want to catch up on the things I skipped over from my plan. Will I get to them in February? Let’s find out... 

[grass-skirt]

thanks for answering my fisk ask! i appreciate it. can you think of characters that are good examples for a well done sympathetic villain? aside from fma's scar

Your welcome! (And sorry to other folks who’ve sent asks that I haven’t answered yet, but sometimes it’s easier for me to think of how to answer some questions than others and again time and energy are very limited resources for me these days) (And here’s the link to the preceding ask on my thought for what constitutes a sympathetic villain, how Scar is one, and how Wilson Fisk is not) 

And let’s see here. If I had to think of some more well-done examples of sympathetic villains… 

Meruem from HxH: amazing example. As someone not human, born not just socially, but biologically, to be king with the massive power to back it up and no reference point for what it meant to care or have feelings for others. And yet, he met someone who could best him in one thing, one simple thing, and slowly fell in love with her and through her uncovered the humanity no one thought he had. (Not to mention, he was manipulated by Pouf who tried to stamp out the love he had learned to feel and set him back on the path of a heartless conqueror, so we can also feel sympathy for his character on that front as well) 

Tetsuo Shima from Akira: this is possibly a more (lowkey) controversial choice. Because yeah, he’s a 15-year old asshole who got psychic powers and became an even bigger asshole. But I feel like he’s an incredibly understandable character precisely because of that. To me, he’s an exploration of the effects that insecurity, powerlessness, poverty, and environmental instability can have on kids. Take a kid who feels miserable and doubts himself and isn’t supported by the society around him who wants desperately to be respected and in control and give him power… He couldn’t control his powers well, they caused him massive pain and made him fear what they would do to his mind and body. He could control through fear but he couldn’t control himself and that pain and uncertainty and fear never left him. One of the elements of a good sympathetic villain to me is that their choices make sense. And Tetsuo is a character whose choices were almost all bad, but IMO make sense from the sad, angry perspective of the view he had and the world around him. (Long ago I made a cool graphic about him) 

Jasper from SU: now here’s an actual potentially controversial choice. Steering clear of the whole Malachite discourse and just focusing more broadly on her character, she was a huge jerk who beat the snot out of people and seemed to relish in it. She was the biggest villain in SU for a good long while, and there was little reason to think of her as sympathetic. That is, until we found out that the reason she hated the Earth and the Crystal Gems and was so fixated on strength is because thousands of years ago the Crystal Gems murdered the person she most loved and adored and the person she was literally created to serve. Then we start being able to see how her villainous beliefs and actions were shaped by the culture and society of the Diamond Authority that doesn’t give it’s members much in the way of choice or freedom. And then we also find out that the person who Jasper’s very existence was for had faked her own death and everything Jasper believed for the past 5000 years was a lie. Again, she’s a villain whose horribleness can be seen as a result of the circumstances around her, and we can see that if she had been told the truth and given different opportunities she perhaps could have been someone good instead of eventually devolving into a literal monster. 

Eric Killmonger from Black Panther: he was someone who fought for a cause he believed him, and that was righteous and justified in his eyes. He grew up in poverty, his father was murdered, and he lived his life on the outside of a great society of wealth and equality, always aware of what they had but wouldn’t share with him or others who were also suffering. He looked at the imperialist, racist, oppressive actions of the world and thought, “Wakanda’s neutrality is acceptance of injustice. If the nation of my birth has the ability to reshape the world, punish the injustice of nations and societies, and give power to our oppressed people, we should do it.” T'challa’s view was that you can’t hurt and kill innocent people in the name of justice. Killmonger’s view was that harm, death, and suffering were constantly happening anyway, and that T’challa’s stance was accepting and tacitly endorsing this injustice. Again, his villainy came from a place of understandable suffering and genuine belief that fighting fire with fire was better than standing on the sidelines and simply watching the fire burn. 

And two final characters: 

Donquixote Doflamingo from One Piece gets an honorable mention. He could have been an amazing sympathetic villain, but for some reason Oda took a character who was born into a culture of ignorance, corruption, and greed, who lost everything and was tortured by angry mobs who blamed him for sins he hadn’t committed, who was then raised by a group of older boys and men who again groomed him and lead him down a road of villainy…. and then said, “Hey, this guy? Doflamingo? He was just born evil. Yeah, that’s it. He was born evil. So don’t worry so much about all the environmental stuff, because he was born evil anyway. Even his brother said so.” (Again, here’s a graphic and analysis I did on the subject for those who have forgotten) 

Lady Eboshi from Princess Mononoke. (I also wrote a big post about her and the overall movie and how great it is.) She isn’t a sympathetic villain. Not really. She is both ends of the moral spectrum simultaneously in every move she makes. She was a monster, a destroyer of gods, an environmentalist’s nightmare who burned nature in the name of industry. She was also a savior, a humanitarian, a veritable saint who took in the sick and the downtrodden of society and gave them respect, empowerment, and a home they were happy in. And all the while… we never actually know what she’s thinking. One could argue that she’s still a villain (rather than simply an antagonist), but the key point here is that she is not sympathetic. Does she help others because she cares, or because through helping them she ultimately benefits herself? We don’t know for sure. The story does not invite us into her internal world. She’s not a sympathetic villain because we’re never asked to sympathize with her. Instead, we’re asked to think of bigger ideas. We’re asked to take a look at the ways human society can benefit itself, advance equality, and lift up the powerless by using and destroying the natural world around us. Is it worth it? What are the unintended consequences of these actions? Can humans harm nature without inevitably also hurting ourselves? Lady Eboshi’s thoughts and feelings and true motivations don’t matter. We don’t know, and we can’t know, and at the end of the day does it matter either way? Even if she was calculated and selfish it wouldn’t change that she’s helping people, and even if she was motivated by love and compassion it also wouldn’t change the harm she’s done. She’s a representation of ideas, forces, and choices larger than herself. Those ideas are what’s important to the film, and they are explored without ever diving into the mind of Lady Eboshi herself because what the thinks and feels has no bearing on the consequences of her actions. 

A villain is someone who hurts others who do not deserve to be hurt. A person is sympathetic when we feel for them. Villainy is external. That person harms others, so we hate them. Sympathy is internal. We feel another’s pain, and understand the reasons for their choices, which includes the possibility that they never even had a choice at all. Lady Eboshi is so interesting to me because she is completely external. We are tasked with viewing and judging her based entirely on the consequences of her actions without factoring in what she thinks, what she feels, and why she’s doing it. We don’t have sympathy for her, rather we have sympathy for the people she helps regardless of whether Lady Eboshi is doing it out of kindness or doing it to benefit herself. 

It’s odd that I spent the most time in this ask about sympathetic villains talking about someone who I think isn’t one, but I think that it’s both helpful and interesting to dive into how a character can completely subvert and dodge the label of a sympathetic villain while still fully capturing their contradictory essence. We hate and condemn the actions of sympathetic villains while also understanding them, respecting the “why” behind what they do, and potentially even loving them. With Lady Eboshi, we’re not supposed to care about the why. We’re not supposed to care about her. While I do love her, that’s not the part that matters. Instead, that same contradictory dynamic takes the form of the audience loving who she she helps while also loving who/what she hurts in the process. The thing’s we’re supposed to care about are entirely outside her. 

I think that sympathetic villains are so interesting because they prompt us to think about why a person hurts others and see that something more than just innate evil is often there–that there are reasons why evil exists in villains’ hearts and that there are things that we can and should do about that. Whether it’s a character like Meruem who was “born” evil but learned to love and ultimately chose to embrace it, or a character like Scar who started out a decent young man who became a serial killer because of the genocide his people suffered. Either way,  through them we are given an exploration of evil that emphasizes heartfelt understanding–understanding the “why” of evil so that we can either heal it or address the circumstances of its creation in the first place. If a sympathetic villain is well written and well handled in their story, the audience should be able to learn about the sources of evil in the world and how it could be made a little better. 

[polystyrenequeen]

10 actual ADHD study tips

from a student with ADHD

(or if you just have trouble concentrating)

1. put your phone in different room.

no, really. there can be any number of excuses not to (i use it as an alarm/timer, what if there's an emergency, but i use it during breaks) but i guarantee that you will focus better without the ability to check your social media. if you're genuinely worried about missing a phone call, don't put it on silent, and leave it across the room so you can hear it, but make sure it's out of reach.

2. invest in some noise-cancelling or muffling headphones.

they're a life-saver. i use them to help with sensory overloads, but now i wear them pretty much every time i study. regular headphones with some kind of neutral backing noise also work pretty well.

3. don't listen to music.

maybe somewhere, somehow, there exists a person who can actually listen to music and focus, but i've never met one. my adhd means i get distracted by anything. i'm a good multitasker, but not when the task requires lots of thought, like my science or math homework, or that english essay i've been putting off. if science is distracting for you as well, put on a neutral background noise (no, not lo-fi hiphop beats - unless that works for you). i usually put rain sounds or white or brown noise (the latter is my favourite).

4. break big tasks into small chunks.

you've probably heard this one before, but adhd makes tackling big tasks seem really daunting. like, where do you even start? before beginning a massive project, make a list of every little thing you need to do. it might seem stupid or excessive, but i can't stress how much it helps. it also gives you a sense of accomplishment whenever you knock a task off the list.

5. if you know you're gonna procrastinate, try and do it productively.

this one is one i'm still getting used to. i realised, after hours of sitting at my desk, not wanting to start on my essay but not wanting to actively NOT write my essay, and just generally feeling like shit, that it would have been better to spend those hours doing that thing i wanted to do (learn that song on my guitar, finally finish the painting sitting on my desk, write the poem that i had scribbled in my notebook a week ago). if you know you're not going to get started on your work, you might as well do something else that isn't as pressing but you still need to get done. it's okay not to be 100% productive al the time.

6. have a clear workspace.

this is a big one. i found that having a lot of stuff on or around my desk just makes me feel fenced in. i like to have 1 lamp, 1 cup of pens/pencils/highlighters, a cup of tea, tissues, and whatever i'm working on. when you're done with a task, PUT IT AWAY ASAP. that way, it doesn't build up, and you can feel ready to start on the next thing.

6.5. eliminate distractions.

i feel like this relates to the point above, but don't have lots of visible posters/lights/tempting tasks. maybe close your blinds or your door, or study in a library instead of your room if it is too bright and colourful.

7. the pomodoro method (organising your breaks).

LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS. the pomodoro method involves working for a consistent slot of time (usually 25 minutes, but whatever works for you) and then having a short break (5-10 minutes), and then a long break every 2-5 "slots" (15-20 minutes). if you don't trust yourself to stick to a timer, get a cute app on your laptop - there are heaps of different themes, and it will help you organise your time and tasks. instead of thinking about a task like "it will take me 2 hours", think about it like "it will take me 4 slots of time", and it will be much less daunting.

(note: for your breaks, try not to reach for your phone/social media. this is a rabbit hole. maybe draw for a minute, or read a few pages of a book. do something you can easily and quickly put away.)

8. organise yourself, but try not to hyperfixate on it.

apps like notion can be really helpful when organising tasks/your workspace, but they can also suck hours of your time away if you're not careful. not everything has to be perfect/meticulously planned, and you're not working on your homework by planning your weekly schedule. speaking from experience, it's really easy to get caught up in something that may feel productive, but really isn't.

9. this is really niche, but... for my reading-glasses wearers:

WEAR THEM WHEN YOU STUDY. i'm very mildly farsighted, which means wearing glasses when i read for long periods of time helps me prevent headaches. technically, i can go without them, and for a few years i usually did, but i've noticed that wearing them when i study has the benefit of getting me in the right headspace, and also stops me from looking up or around my room too often, as the prescription makes me dizzy when looking at things far away.

10. just get started.

i know you hate hearing this, but usually, knocking one or two things off your list can help you get motivated. often, things that seem really difficult or time consuming aren't as bad once you've gotten started.

good luck!

[bxngchxn]

Elevated || h.js

pairing: jisung x female!reader

wc: 2.85k 

genre: friends to lovers, fluff, smut, college!skz

warnings: explicit content, fingering (f recieving)

description: stuck in an elevator with the cute boy from science class? you’re curious as to how the situation will escalate.

a/n: i am so sorry i said i’d post this last night and i never did but i am here to make it up to you (also some other works coming soon! keep a look out)

send me an ask if you’d like to be on the tag list!

this is a work of fiction and not meant for anyone under the age of 18

You really hate Mondays.

They’re always the longest, and for some reason things happen to go incredibly wrong on the first day of the week. Always.

Waking up and realizing you only have 10 minutes to get dressed and get to class, running across campus seems to be the only option if you want to make it there on time. The professor is strict, and won’t let you in even if you’re only a minute late to class.

You ignore the weird looks you get from students as you sprint across campus, just wanting to make sure today doesn’t get any worse.

The door to your classroom is already shut, and you know that if you try to walk in now, you’re going to be yelled at by the professor and kicked out anyway. It’s not a surprise to you, with the morning you’ve had, you kind of expected things to continue downhill.

Now having some extra time to kill, you head to the school cafe for a cup of (desperately needed) coffee, and then the library for some extra studying for your anatomy class that you’re going to walk into within the next hour and a half. It was your hardest class, and easily the most stressful one as well.

Luckily, your study session went uninterrupted and with no hiccups. Looking at your watch and realizing you need to get moving, you stand up from your spot at the library table only for a student walking by to knock into you, spilling your remaining coffee on your shirt. “Are you fucking kidding me?” you ask in your head, telling the girl who ran into you that it was fine, and that you’re okay once she started apologizing profusely. Of course, now not only are you running late again, but you have a giant coffee stain on your shirt.

“Are you alright?” You hear someone chuckle next to you, and you look to your left and see Han Jisung, looking at you with concern but also a slight bit of humor in his eyes. 

You’ve spoken to him a few times, the two of you sharing your anatomy class. He’s cute, you think, with his bright smile and energetic attitude. You also had a few mutual friends, Seungmin and Changbin, so you had heard more about him than you’ve actually spoken to him.

“Yeah, Jisung, I’m just fine. Thank you for asking,” you quip back, and he arches an eyebrow at you out of curiosity.

“Seems like someone rolled out the wrong side of the bed today,” he says, and it makes you pout. “What makes you say that?” you say while looking away from him grumpily. “No reason, just saw you sprinting through campus out the window this morning, plus you’re like..covered in coffee” he says nonchalantly, and it makes you want to smack him. You both need to get to class though, and the thought makes you groan. “Ugh there’s no way I’ll be able to get to my apartment and change in time..” you say to yourself, looking down at the giant coffee stain on your shirt.

“Here,” Jisung says, and you look up to see him taking off his hoodie and handing it to you. “Jisung I can’t, it’s really okay I’ll just change after class,” you tell him. He shakes his head, and shoves the hoodie into your hands. “I don’t want you to have to sit through class like that,” he says. You slip the hoodie on over your shirt, relishing in the scent of his cologne and how it makes your head spin just a little bit.

Not wanting the coffee to stain the inside of Jisung’s hoodie, you quickly maneuver your arms inside the oversized piece of clothing, and take your shirt off while making sure Jisung’s hoodie still covers you. Pulling your coffee stained shirt out from the neck hole of the hoodie, you look at Jisung who is staring at you with wide eyes. Before you can laugh at his state of shock, Jisung speaks up. “Let’s go, we’re gonna be late!” He says, making his way towards the library exit.

You have no other choice but to follow him because he’s right, class is going to start and you’re not even in the science building. He notices you lingering behind and grabs your hand, leaving you completely shocked as he decides to take off once he steps foot outside, with you in tow. You try to keep up with him, stumbling over your feet while yelling at him to slow down, although it seems like he isn’t going to.

You make it inside the science building and book it up the stairs, praying that you’re not late. Seems as this time, luck is on your side. You and Jisung make it inside the classroom not thirty seconds before the professor does. The two of you exchange victory smiles, still catching your breath while the professor starts the lecture.

You tried to stay focused, but your eyes continued to wander towards Jisung every now and again. He managed to sit right where the sun was shining through the windows, and to put it quite frankly, his beauty was distracting. His tan skin seemed to be glowing, and he would bite his lip in concentration every now and again as he copied the notes from the board. Something about the way his lips looked made you want them against your own, and you were taken aback by your thoughts. You hadn’t even had a real conversation with him until two hours ago, and now you were thinking about kissing him? What is this feeling?

Your eyes move from focusing on his lips to his hands, watching the way they move as he takes notes. You can’t help but imagine what those hands would feel like on your body. His hoodie was warm enough, but you were sure his hands were something else.

You hear Jisung laugh quietly, and your eyes shoot up from their current focus to realize that Jisung had caught you staring at his hands. Your cheeks flush a bright red, and you turn your head back to the front of the classroom, hoping he’ll ignore it later.

“Well, thank god my classes are done for the day,” you say once you realize Jisung is waiting for you after lecture is over. Your cheeks are still a little pink, and you’re just waiting for the boy to make a joke about your obvious staring. Jisung laughs, too, and the sound makes you feel a little lighter. “Yeah I know right? Especially since the weather is getting cooler and I seem to have lost a hoodie,” he quips, and you playfully smack him on the arm. The playful smirk on his face sets something off inside of you, but you try and ignore it as much as possible.

“I told you I didn’t need it!” you say, and he shakes his head. “It’s alright, you don’t need to worry about it,” He insists, but it still doesn’t sit right with you. “No, no I feel bad. Here, come to my place really quick? I’ll change out of this and throw my shirt in the wash so you can have this back,” you ask him. “Well, I think I have some time...” he says playfully. You roll your eyes and lead him in the direction of your apartment building.

On the walk to your apartment, you get to talk to Jisung more than you ever have before.You definitely regret not getting to know him sooner. The stories you’ve heard about him definitely don’t do him justice, either. He’s really quick witted-- able to make you laugh harder than you’ve laughed in awhile. Pair that with his soft brown eyes and his bright smile, he’s basically a knock out.

Once you reach your building, Jisung opens the door for you and it just adds to the tiny feelings you could sense growing in your stomach for this boy. You walk up to the elevator and press the call button, and the presence of Jisung behind you waiting for the elevator makes the hairs on your neck stand up. He was really, really close to you, and you could feel his warmth radiating off of him. Not to mention you were still wearing his hoodie, the smell of his cologne fogging your senses.

The doors open, and you step inside first, turning around to press the button to head to the 9th floor. Jisung follows, standing next to you and leaning against the rail behind him. It’s quiet, but comfortable.

That is, until you hear a weird noise coming from the elevator.

You look up at Jisung to see if he heard it too, and the way his grip tightens on the bar behind him doesn’t go unnoticed by you. The elevator shakes, slightly, and out of reflex you move to grab onto Jisung. His arm goes around your waist, pushing you to him while keeping a hand on the bar holding him steady. Just like you thought, the elevator shakes more strongly and then comes to a stop. The lights go off for a moment, but the backup lights come on almost immediately, bathing the small space in a soft, dull light.

You let go of the breath you were holding once you’re sure the elevator isn’t going to plummet 7 stories. Jisung feels you relax in his hold, and moves away slightly to look at you. “Are you okay?” He asks you for the second time today, except this time his voice is very clearly concerned. “Yes, I’m fine. What happened? How are we gonna get out of here?” You say, checking your phone and realizing you don’t have any cell service.

Jisung steps away from you, letting his arm fall from your waist. You miss the feeling of protection, but watch him anyway as he makes his way over to the elevator door. Taking a look through the gap, you hear Jisung mutter some curses under his breath. “Looks like we’re stuck between floors, which is why your phone isn’t working,” he says, trying to further inspect the situation.

“So what do we do then? Sit here and wait for someone to come save us?” You ask, eyes wide. He shrugs, and turns back to the door. “Hey! Can anyone hear us? We’re trapped in the elevator!” He shouts, and it’s quiet for a moment before a stranger’s voice is heard from a few feet above you.

“We heard the rattling of the elevator! We’ve called maintenance and fire, but they said it’s going to be about 20 minutes until they can get here. We hope you’re okay!” The voice says. Jisung nods his head and yells a thank you to the stranger before making his way back towards you in the small elevator.

You’re happy to know that help is on the way, but what if something happens before they get there? What if the elevator -does- decide to fall before they can get there? You don’t want to live out your final moments in your college apartment’s elevator.

You start to freak out a little bit, and Jisung can sense it. “We’re gonna be okay, you know that right? Help is on the way,” he says, and moves to take a seat on the floor. You join him, hoping it will calm your nerves even just a little. “Yeah, I just hate elevators..” you say, and he doesn’t answer you. You want to say the quiet is calming, but you can’t help the anxiety you feel in the pit of your stomach. You start picking at the carpet of the elevator out of nervousness, and Jisung takes notice.

He scoots a little closer to you and grabs your hand, the size difference of his hands compared to yours is almost baffling. You feel that blush rise up again, reminded of what happened in class earlier. Jisung is playing with your fingers absentmindedly, both of his hands grabbing at them and lightly pulling them in different directions, the pad of his thumbs smoothing over the back of your palm. You can’t look at him, too embarrassed for getting worked up at the gesture.

It seems like God is out to get you today, because Jisung laughs that teasing laugh of his again, and this time a finger under your chin brings your head up to make eye contact with him.

“Y’know, I was going to let it go earlier, but now I don’t think I can..You seem to be pretty fascinated with my hands, huh baby doll?” He asks confidently, and the tone of his voice makes you want to jump down the elevator shaft out of shyness. The new pet name brings those same feelings back to your stomach, and you’re at a loss for words. Jisung takes notice of this, and his smile turns from playful to something a little more serious.

‘Awe now why are you getting shy? You sure weren’t when you were checking me out in lecture earlier,” Jisung says, his tone condescending as he moves closer to you. “I promise, Y/N, I’m not going to bite. I mean, not unless you want me to,” he whispers. He’s not even an inch away from your face, and now you can’t seem to break eye contact with him. His hand moves from your jaw to the back of your neck. “If you don’t want this, you need to tell me..” he insists, but you don’t even need to think twice. “I want it. I want you.” you say quietly, and that’s enough for him to close the distance and pull you on top of him.

Being seated on Han Jisung’s lap is nothing short of an out of body experience. His lips are soft against yours, nipping at your bottom lip and asking for entrance which you gladly grant him. The kiss is fast and passionate and full of tongues but neither of you seem to care. You can’t think of anything except that you were right; the feeling of his hands roaming your body is better than you could’ve imagined. By now your fingers are tangled in his hair, pulling slightly every now and again and listening to the beautiful sounds of Jisung groaning against your lips.

“You are absolutely gorgeous,” he says, his fingers trailing to the button of your jeans. You busy yourself with moving your hands underneath his tshirt, his skin warm and soft under your fingers. You can feel the ridges of abs that you didn’t know existed, and as Jisung is whispering sweet nothings into your ear, you whine at the sensation of his fingers that have found their way into your underwear.

“You look so pretty like this for me,” Jisung continues, his fingers rubbing circles on your clit in slow circles as you whine at him. “I knew I wasn’t going to be able to control myself the moment you slipped this damn hoodie on. You look so small, baby.”

You’re sure that you’re going crazy the more that Jisung talks to you. In order to preserve even the tiniest bit of your sanity, you connect your lips to his once more. You hear him chuckle into the kiss, Jisung sensing your urgency as you grind down onto his fingers with a newfound energy.

“You really like my hands that much, huh? Gonna get off just on my fingers baby?” He asks once again, this time inserting a finger into your core. You moan at the new sensation, but Jisung isn’t having it. “Words, baby. Tell me how you’re feeling,” He orders, and something about his tone sends you up a wall. “S-so good Jisung.. I.. fuck,” you breathe out.

Jisung snaps back to reality for a moment and remembers: You’re on a time crunch. Maintenance could get the elevator back up and running at any moment. He adds another finger inside of you and quickens his pace at the same time. The speed has you reeling, the knot in your stomach tight but not quite ready to snap.

“I need you to cum for me baby, someone could walk in any minute. We don’t need anyone else seeing how much of a slut you are for my fingers alone, now do we? Or would you like that?” He asks, and the idea has you clenching around him. Jisung senses this, and laughs. “Something to keep in mind for another time,” he says to himself. You bury that comment at the back of your mind, focusing on the pleasure that’s rising in your core.

Once Jisung starts rubbing harsh circles on your clit, the combination of that and his fingers inside you has you arching your back. To Jisung, you are the most ethereal being on the planet right now; the soft light of the elevator highlighting your features, making you look oh so beautiful and almost unreal as your orgasm washes over you.

Jisung helps you ride out your high, your hips slowly coming to a stop as you begin to catch your breath. “Th-thank you, Jisung..” you say quietly, moving your hair out of your face. “Trust me, baby doll. The pleasure was all mine,” he chimes, and a small laugh leaves your lips as you finally gain your composure once again.

The two of you stay sitting like that for a few minutes, basking in the glow of this new found relationship until you hear voices a few feet above you again. “Hello? Are you alright in there? This is the fire department, we’re going to get you out of there, don’t worry.” The faint voice says. You both sigh in relief, Jisung’s arms falling around your waist once again.

It doesn’t take long for the elevator doors to be opened, and you’re both pulled up by the firemen who came to your rescue.

Once safe and sound, it doesn’t take long for you to pull Jisung into your apartment to make up for something very, very important, either.

[river-bottom-nightmare]

Dick and Wally together are sports culture.

Different tennis shoes littering the hallway, worn out and held together by duct tape. Traded shoelaces, so they both have a piece of each other wherever they go. Different patterned leg warmers as Christmas gifts. Early morning stretching, just the two of them sitting on the floor of their apartment, Dick leading and Wally following, working the soreness out of their muscles. Random equipment for sports they don’t even play in the closet. Cold and refreshing showers. Eating so much food, both relatively healthy stuff and pure junk. A Flash water bottle with a Nightwing keychain. A Nightwing water bottle with a Flash keychain. Using the doorframe as a pull-ups bar. Washing the sheets every other day, not because of all the sex (though the sex is often) but because one of them will come home, all sweaty from a workout, and just collapse on the bed for a couple minutes before taking a shower. Daring each other to show off parkour skills in civvies. Jumping into a pickup basketball game with a bunch of strangers, ending the game with a group of new friends. Buying deodorant whenever the go to the store bc you can never have too much deodorant. Trailing off sentences and just staring because holy shit those are some nice back muscles and biceps. Actually decent sleep schedules. 

Jason and Roy together are peak casual academia.

Everyone knows Jason spends his free time reading literary classics. And everyone knows the grease on Roy’s fingers won’t ever wash out. Bookshelves crammed full of old paperbacks, everything from Wuthering Heights to The Optimist’s Daughter to The Importance of Being Earnest. Goggles shoved over green eyes and a freckled nose as an invention sparks to life in rough hands. The Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy is a guilty pleasure of both of theirs. Thousands of pens littering an apartment for scribbling down notes whenever they strike. Jason poking plot holes and other criticisms faster than a bullet, character analyzations sharper than his jawline, a lecture about the problem with many contemporary and modern novels longer than his dick. Excited rambles way too early in the morning about some new polymer Roy can work into his arrows. Jason tutoring students in both Lit and Spanish at the public library. NPR playing on the radio. Being in a bent over position for so long they sigh in relief when the other offers them a back massage after smirking when they let out a pained groan. Never throwing anything away because you never know what could be useful. 

Tim and Kon together are skate culture.

Tim wraps his boards with tape because, even though he has to replace it every couple of weeks, he likes the designs. Kon sets some time aside every couple of nights to make sure his rollerblades are doing okay, unscrewing and rescrewing the wheels becoming a habit. Tim’s jeans are ripped to hell, but he still wears them over and over again, saying “I’ve got kneepads it’s fine.” Kon wears his round red sunglasses with increasing frequency; Tim says it makes him look like a dork but Kon knows he secretly likes it. Tim likes taking aesthetic photographs of Kon while skating, and since he’s a damn good photographer, the pictures turn out beautiful. Kon likes taking pictures of Tim, but he’s not as good and he uses a blurry iphone camera. Even so, they’re in-the-moment and raw and Tim loves them anyway. Kon loves practicing tricks: skating backwards on his in-lines has become a smooth, practiced motion for him, his misfits are vicious, his savannahs make spectators terrified he’s stumble and fall. He does them all, with a rakish grin, and comes to a stop with his head held high for applause. Tim, on the other hand, just skates. he’ll roam the streets and sidewalks of Gotham, mindlessly pushing his skateboard, going over pits and bumps with practiced ease. The constant, repetitive motion is a form of meditation for him, but still active enough to keep his mind alive. Every week Kon changes his nail polish color, and usually it’s Tim painting his nails for him. Tim’s wardrobe consists entirely of 6 or 7 oversized sweatshirts and sweaters, and when he’s not cycling through those same clothes over and over again, he wears Kon’s shirts. They hang loose on his frame, but that makes him love them even more. Kon rarely ever takes his fingerless gloves off. In contrast, Tim’s knuckles are constantly busted up to hell. Ton’s got a bold undercut that would look stupid and try-hard on anyone else, but somehow, it works really well for him. Tim’s hair is always just a little overdue for a haircut. The two of them have so many socks, like a huge drawer full of them. They’re patterned and textured, long and short, and they’re constantly in use. Tim collects stickers to overlay the bottom of his board with. Kon gets around the city as a pedestrian wearing roller blades more often than actual shoes. The kids frequenting the skate park are a second family.

Damian and Jon are art culture.

Charcoal and marker ink staining Damian’s hands. Callouses littering Jon’s fingertips, because he never pulls up his invulnerability when playing. Blank canvases that rarely get used in the closet. Screenshotted and printed out sheet music never in the folder they’re supposed to be in. Damian hiding spray paint cans from Bruce. Humming at all hours of the day. Homemade paper lanterns as decorations. Pencils in a leather pencil case. Pencils in a two dollar plastic case. Pencils on the sheets of the bed and in a cup near the sink and on top of the coffee table. A guitar pick collection that never gets used. Refusing to buy new sketchbooks, arguing in vain that they’re reusable. Jon bsentmindedly playing out a melody on the piano when he’s thinking. Paint splattered jeans. A painted denim jacket. Tuning a violin regularly but always forgetting to rosen until it becomes a necessity. Damian drawing all over Jon’s arms. Falling in love with the stranger ones of the old composers. Beautiful handmade cards for every required occasion. Drawings and paintings based off a piece Jon played. Sweeping and emotional music pieces based off something Damian created. Half finished sketches of Jon littering every sketchbook Damian ever gets. Days of playing the same chords over and over again before being struck by an idea for a song. “I made this for you.”

yes i am aware roy’s characterization in this is based off rhato which is a terrible characterization to begin with. no i do not care. look at how fucking long tim and kon’s is i’m not sorry

tag list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @bikoncon @dangerduckjpeg 

[seabreeze2022]

2023 Bahamas Cruise, Part 16. April 7. Driving Long Island.

April 5th we rented a car and drove south to the end of Long Island. At 0800 start calling SeaSide Car Rental on VHF ch. 16. Many businesses here in the Bahamas handle business by VHF. Turns out she had gone to the airport.

Once we got the car, Nancy stopped at the Beauty Salon. Marcie who we met by chance a couple of days earlier gave her an appointment for the next day. Marcie will not only cut your hair, but set you up with fish or crawfish. As she was doing with her customer at the time. No she does not have the fish actually in the shop. That is the beauty salon in the fish market in George Town, Exuma does that.

This is Dolly Fox, Marcies Mother in law. Dolly and Basil own the dock that us cruisers are graciously allowed to use. Her son Roger fishes the Jumentoes and Ragged Islands, you can make an appointment for fish at the beauty salon.

Looking through the windshield of the rental car. Don’t you hate getting in a rental car and having to figure out where all the buttons and switches are. This car is driven from the right side, so the gear shift is on your left. My turn blinker is on the left in my truck. Consequently I turned on the windshield wipers all day long before turning. They kindly put a sign at the top of the window, reminding you to drive on the left side of the road. This is most important when turning on to a road from an intersection. The roads in Long Island have many a pot hole. After avoiding a couple of pot holes in a row, it is easy to end up with the old habit of driving on the right side of the road. To make matters worse, the oncoming car might be avoiding pot holes and is not on their side of the road. P.S. After getting in the first time, never saw the “Keep left” sign again.

The yellow building above is the tourist information building. After picking their brain and armed with maps we headed south. Of course trying to keep in the left lane.

The building on the right is the Museum of Long Island. Patsy Cartwright, the curator, was a wealth of stories. She told us where to find a flock of 50 flamingos and the map to get there.

These young ladies run the public library in Buckly. Lauren, on the right, used to work at Gordon’s bar. So when we got there we mentioned her name. More on Gordon’s below.

“Six degrees of Kevin Bacon” or on Long Island, “Two degrees of separation”. There is a little over 3,000 Bahamians on the island . Most are related somehow. We always ask what their last name is. Here Lauren connects us to Gordon’s Bar.

You can’t say you have been to Long Island, if you haven’t been to Hamiltons Cave. Leonard Cartwright gives tours through the largest cave on Long Island. We spent an hour with Leonard while he showed us one of the three types of bats. Blind crickets, termites trails winding down from above. Lucayan pottery, Money Bats which are the large moths we have in the Keys. This cave has been in his family’s property for generations. People would hide from hurricanes here.

Two degrees of Long Island separation: Just spent the day with James Knowles. We mentioned Leonard Cartwright. James says, yeah he is my cousin.

This cave is not on any tourist map. It is in the Dunmore settlement area. Caves in this area were used by the Lucayan Indians. Directions were given to us by Patsy. Sign…what sign? Address…what address? You go past the blue house on the right, look for a house under construction on the left. Next left is the road to the cave. So here is the real life interpretation of the above instructions we received. There is a blue house about every 2 miles. The house under construction was stopped at least 3 years ago and is now overgrown. Seriously, this island does not have a single address for a building. There are no mail boxes, only PO Boxes. They had a “party line” up until 1992. Salt Pond, one of the bigger settlements only recently received running water. All houses are set up with cisterns.

This is St. Peter and St. Paul’s Anglican Church in Clarence Town. Designed by the famous Father Jerome Hawes and built in 1908. It has twin 55’ towers. Which were purposely designed round like lighthouses. I find it interesting that the majority of older churches on the island all face East. The older graves are a good compass since they face east. Ready for the day of resurrection.

When you live in the islands you have to be inventive. I believe this is the local Jiffy Lube franchise. Note the rock on each ramp ready as a wheel chock.

“Slave canal”, there are two canals in town to flood inland ponds with seawater to produce salt. These canals were hand dug by slaves. Probably 5 ft wide and up to 15 ft deep in a few places. There must be hundreds of miles of dry laid rock walls on this island alone. Most done by slaves. The rock walls were used to fence in livestock and mark property boundaries. Some extend out into the water where it is shallow.

The lady at the tourist bureau, told us about the two flamingos at Doctor’s Pond outside Clarence Town. Flocks of flamingos migrate through each year. But one flamingo hurt its wing and can’t fly. One flamingo has stayed over the years to keep it company. The one on the right has its wing hanging down.

This is Charlie and his roadside straw work stand. Nancy sorted through several baskets and bought a small one for $18. Chickens were running everywhere and she asked about getting some eggs for her basket. No eggs today.

Patsy at the museum told us she saw 50 or so flamingos out at the abandoned salt ponds the week before. With map not drawn to scale, we go off roading with the KIA rental car. Among other things we drive down the abandoned runway on the right side of the photo. Carefully fallowing the map towards a beach with the hope of seeing the flock of flamingos. We are in the middle of nowhere. Only 3,000 people on the whole 57 mile long island. I am worried about the car breaking down. How do you explain where you are, when you don’t know where you are?

Here comes another car at us, on the only section of dirt levee we can pass on. Who would of thought that. We keep going. Turning here and there, looking for the lost flight of flamingos. Then we see a vehicle towards the end of the road. Great, at least if we break down they can help us!

You know what Nancy, that vehicle looks familiar. There are two people. One is wearing a familiar color shirt. I think they were parked on the beach while we were at the blue hole in the dinghy.

Two degrees of Long Island Separation: These two Americans rent a house here for vacation and bonefish from shore each day. We were within sight of each other 21 miles up the coast two days earlier.

Gordon’s Bar and Restaurant at the very southern end of Long Island. Earnest is the proprietor. He recently was in a vehicle accident, that has restricted his ability to run the restaurant.

Cracked Conch with peas and rice, with the Bahamas beer “Kalik”. Kalik is the sound of cow bells clanging during Junkanoo festivals. If you look closely at the label you will see two cow bells.

Two degrees of Long Island separation: This is Lori. She is just volunteering for Earnest and tends the tables. No Bahamian accent. Uh….Lori where are you from? She answers, Jamestown N.D.. She was a nurse in the USNavy. Nancy was a nurse in the USAF. She went to the same nursing college as Nancy’s good friend. Within a year or so of each other.

Nancy mentioned the story about meeting Lori to Marcie during her hair cut. Marcie said they had a Low Country boil at Lori’s house the week before. Two degrees!

This is the famous “Deans Blue Hole”. The second deepest blue hole in the world at 663 ft. . The white raft in the middle is where people conduct free diving competitions. The only person to scuba dive to the bottom did it in 1992, James King. The Bahamas Cave expert is Brian Kakuk. Here is a link to the youtube video he shot on side passages.

The red lines on the above photo are the caves heading off underground starting at 150 ft. With the blue hole at the top left next to the cliffs.

S/V Sea Breeze, Thompson Bay, Long Island, Bahamas

[lexa-lives-in-us]

Saving Tips for Hard Times

I found this old document where I collected a series of tips to save money. This is all part of my experience of when I was near homeless, and some work depending on where you live, some don’t. Here we go.

BILLS:

1. The optimum temperature for refrigerator operation is 5°C, and -18°C for freezer operation. As a rule of thumb, for each additional degree of refrigeration output about six percent more electricity is used.

2. Unplug your appliances. Lamps, microwave, tv, computers etc. They don't need to be plugged until you use them, and it saves energy to keep them unplugged. Therefore, money.

3. Do homework for phone companies and internet plans. Call them! Often they are toll free and if you mentioned that you were already with them or thinking of going with them and then found out another company had a better deal, they could offer you deals for lower prices. I had to do it all the time for my phone, until they couldn't really offer anything better.

4. BIKE. Invest in a used bike if you can, especially for the warmer months. It offsets the transit costs and better your health.

5. WALK. That's the same as the bike, honestly.

6. Pay your bills on time, you will avoid late fees which can up to HUNDREDS of dollars wasted over the course of a year. If you can, set up automatic payments so you don’t forget.

FRIDGE:

1. Every time the refrigerator door is opened, cold air escapes and warm ambient air enters. To compensate for the temperature increase in its interior, the refrigerator must then use energy to bring the temperature back down. Always avoid opening the door unnecessarily and for too long.

2. When defrosting frozen food place it in the refrigerator. Not only does this ensure that the food is carefully defrosted, its presence cools down the refrigerator interior, reducing the amount of work that the compressor has to do, and therefore lowering energy consumption.

3. Never put warm food in the refrigerator as this will heat up the interior, as well as other stored foods. Hot food should always be allowed to cool to room temperature before placing it in the refrigerator

MONEY:

1. Keep all the containers like glass bottles, juice bottles, jars, cans etc. Look for your Return-It depot and have trips to return them. They give back coins for laundry, small expenses etc

2. Use that junk mail. Go through it, find coupons for food, for essentials like toilet paper or shampoo.

3. CHECK. THAT. DOLLARSTORE. They often have things like pasta, ketchup, toilet paper, batteries etc for literally 1 dollar.  Pasta is pasta, toilet paper is toilet paper. Seriously. Don't need to spend 5$ on a shampoo bottle when you can have it for 1/5 of the price.

4. Do homework and check with different banks for which one offers a better plan. Some of them are willing to help out. Sit down with their advisors, find the best solution!

5. Use the envelope system! For example, one envelope with a label “food” the other with “entertainment” the other with “bills”. Then set the right amount of cash for each. That’s what you’re allowed to spend each month. If you realize you need more for food, grab it from the entertainment envelope. Adapt and arrange as needed.

6. If you can, set up an automatic saving (example 50$ every paycheck) for both regular saving AND an emergency fund.

7. Use the 24-Hour Rule. Avoid purchasing expensive or unnecessary items on impulse with a self-imposed 24-hour rule. For any non-essential item, wait 24 hours before purchasing. It’s perfect for online shopping where your items can simply be added to your cart to purchase later.

8. Make a grocery list BEFORE going to the grocery store and STICK to it. You’re going to avoid buying things you don’t really need.

9. DO. NOT. SHOP. WHILE. YOU. ARE. HUNGRY. Or you’ll end up buying food that you actually don’t need just because you feel snacky!

10. Only use ATMs from your bank, or you get charged small fees.

11. Set a “No Spend Day” per week, where you consciously DO NOT spend any money for that day.

12. Ditch the paper: Cutting out paper towels and using cloths and napkins that you can simply wash and reuse is a simple way to save.

13. After you wear clothes, hang them outside your wardrobe, on a door or something. You can air them out a bit, then stick them in the closet without washing. You can basically reuse the same clothes two or three times without having to wash them, sometimes they just need a bit of air and they won’t smell AT ALL.

14. If you don’t own or want to spend money on an iron, hang whatever blouse you need to iron in the bathroom while you shower. The steam will humidify the fabric and straighten it up.

15. Hang stuff to dry. Really don’t need to spend money on the dryer.

16. Sign up to the library. They have so many books and DVDs nowadays. You can also just go, sit at the library and stay warm for a while, so that you don’t have to sit at home and either suffer the cold or use money on your own heat.

17. Budget, budget, budget. Get a lil notebook, write down the monthly expenses, cut what you don’t need. It gets easier with time.

 FOOD:

1.       Make a meal plan. Write 10-14 days worth of dishes that you can do (lunch, dinner, everything you need). You can then toss them around as you go on with your week, but that way you have a pretty clear idea of what you use and the food you go through for how long. It also reduces the risks of getting take out since you already have plans for what to eat.

2.       Cook double! Seriously. Make that dinner and double it up. Leftovers can be frozen or put in the fridge for the day after.

3.       Meal prep. Once a week, prep a bunch of different recipes. Let them cool down, stick them in the freezer. At that point you’ll already have all these meals at the ready to just thaw/microwave or oven up.

4.       You don’t need pop. You don’t need alcohol. You most likely don’t need milk, but go for it if you wanna. Just remember dairy products go bad WAY more quickly than non dairies, so consider getting food and drinks with no dairy in them. Mainly, though. Water. Just drink water. Lots of it too! Sometimes our brain can’t tell the difference between hunger and thirst. You think you’re snacky? Drink some water instead! It’ll quell your hunger.

5.       Freeze fruit! If you think you’re not gonna be able to eat fruit in time, put it in a Tupperware or a ziplock and slap it in the freezer. You’ll be able to then use it for smoothies.

6.       Use the Italian saying “Colazione da re, pranzo da nobili, cena da poveri.” Which quite literally means “Breakfast as a king, lunch as a noble, dinner as a poor.” Breakfast should be very filling, carbs, protein, vitamins. It carries you for the whole day. Lunch should be quite filling too! But supper doesn’t really need a lot of it, and if you REALLY have to skip a meal, skip supper. Your body doesn’t need that much sustenance while sleeping.

7.       This is for the desperate times but I’ve done it, and I would do it again if I ever had to. Go to markets that have like… Fruits and veggies. Talk to them. Ask them “HEY, can I have the fruit/veggie that you have to throw away?” Ask them if you can have the ugly produce, the one that doesn’t look pretty enough to be put out. Or ask them to have whatever extra they have to dump because is past the expiry date. EXPIRY DATE IS USUALLY MUCH LONGER THAN WHAT THE LABEL SAYS. I wouldn’t risk it with dairy stuff or with things that are VERY expired, but one or two days? Totally fine, I promise. And if you have to? Dumpster Dive. Especially at markets with fruit and veggies that have to be sold on the same day (because it’s not considered “fresh” past that day.) Or behind pizza places like Dominos or Panago or whatever chain. They get pizza orders wrong all the time. Just give a peak behind these buildings and look inside their boxes. You have no idea how many times I found perfectly fine pizzas. For free! IF YOU DUMPSTER DIVE, MAKE SURE YOU HAVE GLOVES, A MASK AND PLASTIC BAGS TO PUT YOUR STUFF IN. ONCE AT HOME, DISCARD GLOVES AND WASH PRODUCE THROUGHLY. Also check tumblr for your divers community, they usually know the best spots.

 CLOTHES:

1.       Thrift shop! So many GOOD used clothes are out there! Honestly! My whole wardrobe is thrifted and everything looks brand new. It takes a bit of research and maybe that shirt you liked is not in your size, but you can find EVERYTHING, from socks to bras, at a thrift store. Don’t thrift underwear though. You want to go new with those.

2.       Invest in some needle and thread, then open youtube. There are SO MANY tutorials that teach you how to mend holes in socks and underwear. And really, no one will really notice if a mend is perfectly done or not. After a week, you’ll forget it too! But that prevents you from throwing away clothes that could just be mended a little.

3.       Something doesn’t fit you? Too small, too big? YouTube, homie. They have tutorials on how to fix these kinda things! All you need, again, is needle and thread.

4.       Organize clothes swaps with friends and/or neighbors. Everyone brings clothes they don’t need, put them in a pile. Go through the pile and grab whatever there is. There’s no money exchange, one could go home with 1 item and one could go home with 50 items. Who cares? The extra stuff… DONATE IT TO A SHELTER.

Feel free to add more, and stay safe!

[kyun-toast]

[ATEEZ] as University Students

a/n: I love college AUs but I'm British so I thought I'd chip in w some painfully British uni lad ateez

Hongjoong

Besties w his tutor

Got his life down on lock

One of those ppl that are always on top of their work, have acc done the reading and gets good grades but is still rlly cool and has a social life ygm

But thats only bc he lives in the library

Has a designated seat and there's an unspoken rule amongst the students that that's HIS spot, nobody sits in it

Often seen napping at said library spot

So well dressed. He’s one of those students that always catches your eye around campus or lecture halls

Bc he’s just so well dressed for a uni student running on 0 hours sleep and red bull

Probs studies smth like joint honours music and philosophy

Also Vice President of smth like filmsoc

Friends with the baristas at Starbucks bc he’s just in there for caffeine all the time

We all aspire to be like student hj, just more sleep pls

Seonghwa

Voted most eligible bachelor amongst students

Famous around campus just for being so pretty

He’s one of those ppl you see on like the first day of uni and it’s an instant crush

But you’ll never be able to do anything abt it you just have to admire from the other side of the lecture hall

Actually speaks up in seminars bc he’s done the reading sat next to hongjoong in the library

He looks like he’d play tennis for uni and varsity tickets would sell like crazy bc so many ppl have crushes on that man

He’d bring his lil meal prep packed lunches to uni lol what a little sweetheart

Been pictured in the uni prospectus at least once

Hongjoong makes him go w him to freshers fair for his society to use as bait so he stands there handing out leaflets for a soc he’s not even part of

Yunho

Doesn’t know what’s going on half the time he’s just happy to be there

This is v evident in lectures. Professor could be going on and on in a stats class and he’ll just sit there smiling

His gaming setup takes up most of his room and is also where most of his money goes

Texts u at 4am like hey u wanna get pizza

And you know he’s up at that time bc he’s been gaming all night

Still gets good grades despite the fact that all he does is game?

You ask him how he does it and he’s just like idk?

You are perplexed.

All soft in cute jumpers and hoodies but one day you’ll see him suited up at a formal and wow heart eyes

Super fun at parties too, have u seen that man dance?

You have multiple videos of him twerking

Yeosang

That mysterious boy at the back of class that doesn’t speak a lot but whenever he does its always smth smart af

Types really loud on his macbook

Looks like he doesn’t have any friends

But outside of lectures he’s always w friends that look equally as mysterious and cool

No one on your course knows anything abt him

But you see him at a house party once and he’s just stuffing his face w food having a great time

Feel like his alcohol tolerance is super low

Two shots and he’s out cold

And then you’ll see him again at some niche soc social like basket weaving or smth

Works part time at a cool clothing store like allsaints or cos

Chicken shop connoisseur, knows the best places in town

San

Actually studies rlly hard, i can tell he always gives 110% on whatever he’s set his mind to

Soft student always in oversized hoodies, spinning pens, v enthusiastic and pays attention in lectures

But when hes w wooyoung oh man

The enabler, 110% attitude towards drinking too

Pours drinks w 80% alc 20% mixer

“my mother didn’t raise a quitter”

Type to sprint home from the club bc he doesnt wanna waste money on uber

Will make animal friends otw and bring them home

You wake up and come downstairs the next morning and theres just a pigeon in your living room

On the athletics team which is why he may find it instinctive to run home when he’s drunk

San would like for there to be a greggs on campus

Mingi

ALWAYS napping in lectures, seminars, during lunch, in the library, u name it

Knows the best spots for it tho.

You didn’t know there was a secluded spot w bean bags under the stairs at the back of the library until mingi told you

Never missed 9am lectures but will nap through them instead

Gets freshers flu every year and the cough lasts for months

You hear someone cough in the room over and ur like oh, well there’s Mingi

Gives you the best advice at 4am in the library

Also best cuddles

Studies smth like aerospace engineering but regrets it bc he didn’t know what he was getting himself into

Considers dropping out every exam season but always pulls through w good grades?

Wooyoung

Bnoc thats all i have to say

Has like 4k followers on ig

Always running around campus for no reason

Woo and san together at parties u know its going to be buck fckin wild

Always got ppl swooning over him but he just wants to have fun!

No time for relationships! Only alcohol!

When he studies tho? £3 meal deal and writes 2 sentences kind of guy

Business management OR marketing student I can feel it in my bones

The type to tell u funny stories in a silent library and it takes everything in u to stop laughing

Ppl will look over at you two and youre just holding your breaths on the verge of exploding

Security will kick u out at one point

Tight w the local kebab shop bossman

Jongho

Brings everything in a backpack to uni like a year 7

Need a hole punch? Ask jongho. Painkillers? Jongho. Assortment of multi coloured pens? Jongho

Writes the best notes

They're all colour coordinated in different folders for different modules

All the office ladies dote on him bc he’s so sweet

They all offer him tea and biscuits

Youngest but is the voice of reason in the group

Wy will be like do u wanna get drunk in the library

And jongho is like bro ur deadline is tomorrow are u ok

The type to be filming all the other guys when theyre up to some questionable stuff for the memories

Feel like he’d be on committee for whatever course he’s studying

I get pharmacy vibes from this boy

Got job offers lined up for when he graduates

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 18 | S.R.)

Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Finale |

Summary: Reader finds more productive ways to spend her time, including babysitting Henry and volunteering at the local inpatient hospitals.

A/N: That’s my gif so please give credit if you use it 🤗 Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader 
 Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Oral (female receiving), addiction, relapse, discussions of death/murder, unsub talk, hospitals, inpatient ward Word Count: 13K

MASTERLIST

—————————————————

The next morning felt strangely similar to the morning of the day we’d gone to the bank. . Waking up in Spencer’s bed and smelling the unmistakable, comforting scent of old book pages and stale coffee. I’d told him when I first came to his place that it reminded me of a library, but it was more like that quiet local hole-in-the-wall bookshop.

It almost felt like that morning, but there was one glaring difference: Spencer wasn’t in the bed.

When I sat up to try and locate him, I was reminded that there are consequences to my actions. My stomach hurt like shit, and I swore I blacked out for a second from the pain. It would pass, though. Considering I had gotten through the night without waking, it clearly wasn’t that bad.

I thankfully managed to get out of bed myself and take the pain medication I kept in my purse. And armed with the knowledge that the pain would subside within the next half hour, I hobbled toward the distant sounds of… vomiting.

Not even bothering to stop yet, I made my way to the kitchen to grab the poor guy a glass of water. It was the least I could do for his comfort considering that I was about to make his headache much, much worse.

Peeking my head through the open door, I frowned at the sight of my boyfriend half asleep on the toilet.

“Hey old man. I brought you some water.”  

Finally looking up, not having noticed me until I spoke, Spencer groaned as he backed up to lean against the wall instead of the dirty porcelain. “God, when did I get this old?”

“Hmm. I’m guessing sometime in the past 30 years.” I hummed, joining him on the cold tile floor. The two of us just rested there, his hand reaching out to take mine with a solemn smile.

“You’re cute.” He mumbled.

“I know, thanks.” I joked back, knowing that I really looked like a whole mess, with my hair desperately needing to be brushed. He never seemed to mind, though. I was glad for the lighthearted domesticity of the moment, because I knew I was about to shatter it like a brick through glass.

Softening my features as much as possible with the anxiety coursing through my veins, I squeezed his hand before finally whispering, “You know your age isn’t the only reason you’re sick though, right?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He snapped back with about as much hostility as I was expecting. He ran a frustrated hand over his face, his breathing picking up almost immediately as he tried to calm himself down.

“I know you’re just trying to do what you’re supposed to, but please…” The waver in his voice broke my heart and turned my stomach to knots. With more force, he held his hand in the air and continued to stare straight ahead. “Just... don’t. I’ll call my sponsor.”

I tried to keep my voice quiet and nonthreatening as I pushed, but I knew that it wasn’t going to make much of a difference either way.

“We have to talk about it, too, Spencer.”

“No, we really don’t.”

“You’re going to get your chip taken away,” my voice broke in half as the word fell from my mouth, “I know that that’s important to you. We can’t ignore it.”

Speaking faster, our urgent pleas overlapped to create a small cacophony booming through the acoustics of the bathroom. “(Y/n), seriously, stop. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

A silence fell between us, and I let it sit there for a minute. I wouldn’t get anywhere with him if he was defensive, and that’s exactly what he was at the moment. But I wasn’t trying to chastise him; I’m not his mother, I’m just his worried girlfriend. I loved him and I knew something was wrong, and I just wanted to help.

I didn’t know how. The men I loved never made it far enough for me to be able to help.

“You didn’t even tell me you were coming home. We need to talk about that, at least.” I offered the narrowed scope, hoping that he would take it without any more of a fight.

He didn’t. Instead, he took back his hand and turned it to a fist in his lap. That time it was my breathing that became unsteady, and I tried to touch him, but he recoiled when I came too close.

“You didn’t seem to mind me being drunk last night.”

Although I knew it was coming, the words hurt just the same. I resisted the urge to mirror his actions. I wasn’t angry. I wouldn’t be angry, because that’s what he wanted. If I reacted that way, he could write off my responses.

“I’m not going to agitate you or shame you when the damage is already done, Spencer.” I said as confidently as I could, “I knew you needed affection and you weren’t going to ask for it yourself.”

He finally looked at me again, and in doing so, realized he was making a mistake. The anger melted from his face within seconds, being replaced with overt sadness and guilt. “I could have hurt you.” He whispered through the tears that started to fall.

“But you didn’t.” I said with a gentle smile, reaching over to wipe the saltwater from his cheek. “That’s not a very good excuse anymore.”

“It’s always a good explanation.” He clarified, chewing on his bottom lip. His hands released from their tense state.

My fingers couldn’t move fast enough to clear his tears, but he brought his own hands up to rub the tired eyes. I used the freedom to run my hands through his hair, pulling him closer to me.

Resting his head against my shoulder, he let out a deep, shaky breath. I continued slow, soft strokes along his arm, listening to the rhythm of his breath slowly recalibrate. Once I was satisfied with the pattern, I tried again.

“What happened on the case, Spencer?”

The tension returned, but subsided quicker than it had before. He took a deep breath and spoke through the exhale, trying to rid himself of the thought as he said it.

“We had to kill someone.”

My movements paused for a second before I reminded myself to continue, but my confusion remained. “I understand trauma is complicated but… You guys have to do that pretty often.”

Spencer wasn’t the kind of person who liked to share his thoughts. I knew as much; even his coworkers hadn’t seen the parts of him that I’d seen. There was no way for me to know if I knew them all, but I figured that I didn’t. I was almost certain there was a side of Spencer Reid that even I didn’t know. The only reason I didn’t try to figure it out was because I knew he liked it better that way. He designed his heart that way for a reason, and I wasn’t going to try and pry it out of him.

But he was scaring me. He almost never talked about his job, which didn’t bother me when it was obvious that he didn’t bring it home with him. Him getting drunk and defensive, though, were very different circumstances than the usual.

Understanding that there was no other way out of this, he continued to talk, hushed and slow. “I was alone with the guy, and I had the opportunity to kill him, but I didn’t. I didn’t kill him, even though I really wanted to.”

‘I really wanted to.’ The words stuck out in my head, no matter how quickly he tried to bury them.

“But after Hotch showed up, he had to do it. We didn’t have a choice anymore.” His arms crossed over his chest, but he pressed himself harder against me in a strange, contradictory stance.

I couldn’t respond to the most important part of his confession just yet; I knew the story wasn’t over. Like I’d told him, trauma and grief are complicated; however, there was something else he needed to admit before I could address the part of his admission he seemed most affected by.. “Spencer, that’s okay. That’s not your fault.” I reassured, trying to coax his arms away from his chest. I’m no profiler, but I felt like if he stopped trying to build walls, things might be easier. I could at least try to break down the ones that were tangible.

“I’m not worried about it being my fault. I’m worried about how… angry I am.” He said in defeat, dropping his arms back to his lap. He still didn’t want to touch me, it seemed. Like the same hands that had wielded a gun against a man were too tainted to share.

“I’m angry because… I wanted to kill him, I wanted him to suffer for hurting innocent people and —“ He covered his mouth, and I think the motion surprised himself.

I couldn’t help but feel partially responsible, no matter how illogical I knew that was. It felt like yet another morning was being taken away from us by what had happened before. I didn’t want to think about it; I didn’t want it to torture Spencer the way it did me. It was wishful thinking, and the stupid kind, at that.

Spencer would always blame himself and care too much. While he was always trying to work on the former, I hoped that the world would let him keep the latter. His compassion was one of the many reasons I fell in love with him. The thought of losing the man who felt the need to confess to me that he’d lied about checking me out in a crowded club invoked a sadness I never wanted to experience.

Although, the prospect of that loss paled in comparison to the acute sorrow I was feeling right then, holding Spencer while he failed to hold back tears, choking on his words. “I didn’t do it, and then he almost hurt someone else.” He said, his voice growing more frantic as he broke from my hold, grabbing his hair and pulling it like it would do something to stop the thoughts.

“And I’m angry that I wasn’t the one who got to do it. I wasn’t the person who got to kill him.” He spat, rocking forward as I tried to wrap my arms around him again. He didn’t let me, putting an arm out to hold me away from him. Still, he looked at me when he forced himself to say the conclusion that I’d reached the second he told me he had wanted to kill someone.

“I’m angry that I didn’t kill someone, (y/n).”

There were so many things I wanted to say to him that my mind literally couldn’t pick any of them. All I could do was stare at the man I loved, stopping me from doing the only thing I wanted to do. I just wanted to hold him; to remind him that I would love him no matter what. Just like we always did, I wanted my body to express the things that my mouth wouldn’t articulate.

But apparently, I was capable of doing that without even touching him. Because the longer we sat in silence, the more his enraged grimace warped to a frown. “Please, don’t look at me like that.” He begged, unable to take his eyes off of mine. I wondered if he could hear my thoughts, because before I even spoke, he pulled his arm back. “Don’t look at me like I deserve sympathy for that.”

Ignoring the pesky numbness forming in my lower half at the awkward position on the unforgiving tile floor, I thanked the lord that I was finally getting some relief from the narcotics, which allowed me to climb on Spencer’s lap. He’d finally ceased his valiant efforts to keep me away from him, accepting me with his hands on my hips.

When I tried to kiss him, however, he turned his face away with a sharp inhale. Careful not to use too much force, I use a tender hand on his cheek to lead him back to me. His eyes bounced between my lips and eyes, almost like he was asking me to try again.

“I’m not going to pretend you’re a monster to make you feel better, Spencer.” I whispered, attempting to infuse the words with everything I felt.

Whether it worked or not, I could never be sure, but Spencer’s small smile sneaking over his cheek was enough for me. “I’m pretty sure it’d make me feel worse.” He croaked, laughing as he bit his tongue to stop any other jokes from slipping out. Like he was betraying the pain by letting it go.

“Well I’m not going to do that, either.” I returned with a laugh. Then, satisfied that he would accept my affections, I closed the gap between us. The kiss was so soft I could almost question whether our lips touched. But his hands slid over my lower back, his arms wrapping around me and pulling me against him.

Eventually, it became obvious just how tired the both of us were. With a quiet thanks, he rested his face on my shoulder, enjoying the calm after the storm of his feelings that he’d finally released.

“Can you come back to bed?” I asked.

“Yeah.” He mumbled, holding tighter for a second before he started to help ease me off his lap. “Let’s go, little girl.”

The return to my nickname made me happier than I’d like to admit. At this point, the use of my real name was like a litmus test for his anxiety. And although I could feel Spencer slowly opening back up to me, he still felt so far away when we crawled under the covers.

Turning on my side to face him, I saw something in his eyes that alerted me to just how deeply rooted this problem was. It wasn’t just the event we’d discussed; it was the knowledge that there would be many more like it in the future.

I wondered what Spencer saw when he looked at me. Did he see me like I was in that moment, or was I always going to look like I had before, choking on blood and a confession I wish I could have made more beautiful? Did he see me at all? Or did he just see all the mistakes he’d made? Would all our moments together be marred by the overwhelming tragedy of a single one? More than anything, I just hoped that he didn’t see the faces of the people who had caused us to be in that horrible tableau. I needed Spencer to see beautiful things when he looked at me, because I needed to see them in his eyes. If something so ugly was the biggest thing between us, our relationship would fray with time, each of us unable to truly see the other.

“You’re the best man I’ve ever known.” I said into the silent early morning air of his apartment.

As expected, Spencer’s precarious smile broke almost immediately, replaced with violent sobs and an attempt to hide his face from me by burying it in my chest. I let him, wrapping my arms around his head in the hope that I could act like a shield for the world that never let him rest.

“I’ll love you forever,” I let my voice break, but I didn’t let that stop me. “And nothing will ever change that.”

—————————————————

One of the things people never warn you about when you’re dating a bona fide genius is that there is no such thing as a surprise. It was like every time I came up with an idea, Spencer could see it on my face within seconds. I was never really sure how he did it, although he usually had the decency to wait until a normal person would have figured it out to say something. For example, when we were about three streets away from his best friend’s house.

“Why are we going to JJ’s house?” He finally asked, turning to me with a confused but excited expression that almost hid the residual negative feelings that insisted on sticking around a week later.

I glanced over at him, laughing at the way his fingers bounced on his lap. He never was subtle with his emotions. “I may or may not have offered us up as babysitters so she and Will could have a much needed date night.”

From the way his shoulders dropped, I could tell it wasn’t the answer he’d been expecting. Still, it didn’t seem like he was disappointed— he was simply trying to read my motivations that were seemingly counter-intuitive.

“Really? Isn’t that gonna be a lot for you?” The concern was evident in his voice, which I found both endearing and a little annoying. It wasn’t this fault, really. I was just so freaking tired of not being able to do basically anything I wanted to. Especially when the thing I wanted to do was watch my boyfriend and his godson.

“Henry may be well behaved, but he’s still a toddler.” Spencer continued, eliciting a deep sigh from me.  

“That’s why you’re here.” I half-joked, pulling into the driveway that was starting to feel familiar. If someone had told me a few months ago that I would become friends with the woman I was angrily binge watching clips of on YouTube, I would have asked them if they had me confused for another girl. But, much to Spencer’s delight, JJ and I never really had that awkward phase. From the second that I met her, I knew that we just wanted the same thing: above all, for the people we loved to be happy. And it seemed we both had a soft spot for the man currently in my passenger seat.

“Oh, running after the kid is my job?” He laughed, already unbuckling his seatbelt and pulling his bag onto his lap in his excitement.

“Yep.” I stuck out my tongue at him, which only made him lean over in an attempt to steal a kiss. I allowed it, if only to bring him within arm’s reach. When he started to pull away, clearly ready to hop out of the car and run to his favorite toddler, I grabbed a fistful of his cardigan in an attempt to keep him closer for a second longer.

“But seriously, Spencer, I…”

He settled into his seat, immediately recognizing the faint tremor in my words. His hand came to rest over mine, and I sighed at the warmth that filled my whole body in seconds.

“I want you to remember that you’re a good person.” I whispered, trying to let him feel how deeply I meant the words, “I know how much you love Henry. I think spending time taking care of someone that’s… not me… will be good for you. And me.”

Those big brown eyes glassed over, glancing down and then away from me as he remembered looking at my stomach didn’t ever do much for his self-hatred. Which, in turn, just made me feel worse. I wondered if there would ever be a day where he could look at me and not feel that way. I desperately hoped that there would be.

Spencer rubbed his eyes to stop any other emotions from spilling out. “Does JJ know we’re using her kid as therapy?” He joked between sniffles.

“She’s a smart lady.” I shrugged, smoothing out the now wrinkled cardigan beneath my fingers. “Besides, Henry said he missed you and it’s hard to say no to him.”

And just like that, Spencer’s bouncing returned, his hand reaching behind him to open the door before he could even open his mouth to speak. “Yeah, we probably shouldn’t keep him waiting, then.”

There was no stopping him at that point, and I trailed along behind him, watching as Henry tumbled out of the front door and straight into my boyfriend’s waiting arms on the porch.

The rest of the night went a lot like that, too. Once the novelty of having me there wore off, and Henry realized that my boo-boo made it hard for me to play the way little boys liked to, Spencer returned to his rightful place as Henry’s favorite babysitter.

I didn’t mind; I was perfectly content watching the two of them. Between the cheesy magic tricks that required a little bit of childlike innocence to be entertained by and Spencer’s attempts to follow along with Henry’s excited rants about cartoons my boyfriend had never even heard of, I somehow fell even more in love with the man.

And even though I had planned this for him, it was restorative for me, too. There was this weird, paradoxical guilt you feel when you’re dating someone like him. Although I know that he wanted to spend every waking second of his free time with me, it made me feel like he was missing out on something else. Something better than me.

It was so easy to forget that we could do those things together. In a way, I could thank my injury for that. When we were limited so much on what we could do together, we had to find creative ways to spend time together that were still stimulating for the both of us.

That being said, in that moment I wished for nothing more than rest. Even just watching the two boys together was exhausting, so when Henry’s first yawn sounded, I jumped at the opportunity. Because, see, Spencer was good at the playing, but I was much better at the cuddling.

It wasn’t like he could argue, either, because while Henry curled up next to me on one side, Spencer was on the other, his arm reaching around to rest on the young boy’s back. Despite picking out the movie, Henry fell asleep against my chest within minutes.

And in the quiet calmness of JJ’s house, I found myself almost falling asleep, too. My head rested against Spencer’s shoulder, moving ever so slightly with each deep breath as my eyes struggled to stay open. That was when Spencer kissed the top of my head so delicately that I almost didn’t feel it.

“I love you, little girl.”

My heart skipped a beat at the sound, and the wave of goosebumps and satisfaction covered me like a blanket. If we’d stayed for even a few minutes longer, I would have fallen asleep right there. However, JJ and Will arrived home just in the nick of time. They tried to convince us to stay, but Spencer seemed uncharacteristically excited to leave, so I didn’t question it even though I wanted to. I took the trip home to catch up on my phone and try to wake myself up enough to spend another hour or so awake with him before I passed out.

“Don’t fall asleep yet.”

I perked up in my seat, not entirely sure if he’d actually said the words, or if I’d just imagined them a little too vividly. But when he glanced over at me, I knew that he was just doing that slightly unsettling thing where he read my thoughts.

“Why? You got plans?” I said through a yawn, trying to stretch within the confines of the car.

“As a matter of fact, I do have plans.”

At first, I thought nothing of the smug way he said it— up until I felt his hand slowly slide up my thigh, the pressure of his fingers increasing when he couldn’t go any further.

“This feels familiar.” I chuckled, my mind transporting me back to our first not-a-date. The sensations caused a desire to burn through me so quickly I became lightheaded, my lungs hungry and desperate as Spencer continued to tease me by avoiding the one place he knew I wanted him to touch.

But, of course, just as I reached down to move his hand, he pulled it away altogether.

“Lucky for you, we’re almost home.”

I audibly groaned, knocking my head back against the seat now that Spencer had succeeded in waking me up. “Sometimes, Spencer…” I mumbled, “I remember why I have to be such a fucking brat.”

“It’s my fault, is it?”

There was a distinct darkness and deviancy in his words, despite the joking cadence they were uttered in. It was a voice I hadn’t heard in some time; a voice that was imprinted so vividly in my memory that even just the thought of it would make me putty in his hands. And I knew that I was reminiscing a lot, trying to relive times that had long since passed, but every time I saw a part of the old Spencer — the Spencer who rambled in museums and demanded I cover up my Lolita costume — the more I felt like my life was finally returning to normal.

“Of course it’s your fault. Have you seen me?” I gestured to myself, swamped in a sweatshirt and shorts like a weather-confused idiot. If the clashing clothing wasn’t enough, my make up had smeared from constantly rubbing my eyes. “I’m an angel.” I concluded, intending it to be sarcastic but knowing that he really saw me that way.

And sure enough, Spencer looked me over for just one second before pulling into the parking lot to his apartment complex. “You’re spoiled.” He decided.

“Doesn’t feel that way right now.” I whined, chewing on my bottom lip as I continued to wait for his attention.

But he just parked my car, leaning over to grab his bag from between my legs. Before it got too far, though, I clamped my legs around the leather. “Stop ignoring me!” I said through a pout, only getting more heated as he chuckled in response, tugging on the satchel until it slid from between my legs.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Spencer’s eyes locked with mine, his other hand grabbing my chin and forcing my bottom lip out from between my teeth. He held my mouth open against my resistance, but as soon as I gave into his hold, he relaxed his grip, leaning forward and pressing a much-too-soft kiss against my lips.

Without even fully breaking away, he turned my head to the side to whisper in my ear, “Get inside and I’ll make it up to you.”

Life was returning to normal. Together we excitedly stumbled through the Langham apartment complex until we got to his door, and he fumbled to unlock it without letting me go.

Everything about the chaos felt comfortable and predictable. I didn’t even notice the dull throbbing in my stomach because Spencer’s hands felt like home. The insistent noise of all my messy insecurities was quieted by his lips trailing down my jaw and neck as we finally crossed the threshold.

“Watching you with Henry, I just...” Spencer began to mumble against my neck, our bodies gravitating toward his room with a complete lack of grace, considering how well I should know the layout by now. We made it to the door, but not his bed, as he pressed me against the wall right on the other side.

His lips were slightly swollen from how feverishly he’d kissed me, his breathing ragged and his hair wild from where my hands had raked through it a few too many times. But his eyes were what really caught my attention, staring into me so deeply that it caused a shiver to roll down my spine. Spencer sensed my hesitance, because he brought a gentle hand to my face before he spoke, quietly but surely.

“I want to marry you one day. You know that, right?”

I thought about before; how those words would have filled me with both a naive joy and overwhelming anxiety. But as I stood there, staring back at him, I felt a genuine smile spreading across my lips.

“We speak in a lot of ‘one days,’ Dr. Reid.”

I couldn’t tell the effect the words had on him, although I had a few guesses. I’d avoided the part of the sentence he’d meant for me to hear the loudest. We both knew I’d heard it. At the same time, I hadn’t denied the idea or given any reason to suggest I wasn’t happy about the statement.  

“I’m serious.” He insisted, not ready to drop the subject just yet.

Unfortunately for him, though, I had other plans. As much as the talk of marriage gave me butterflies, there were more immediate needs I wanted him to fulfill. So, without saying anything, I subtly suggested that he put off the conversation and switch to other activities with a firm hand against the bulge that had already formed in his pants.

“God, I want to fuck you.” He immediately groaned, his head lolling forward and resting against mine. I figured that it would be harder to convince him to fuck me now that he wasn’t drunk, but he seemed even more willing now that we’d already made the leap of faith once. Nothing bad had happened to me then, and the dramatic improvement of my mood was helpful for both of us.

So I began to slide down the wall, my hands raking down his chest as I giggled, “Let me help you.”

Spencer’s hands moved so quickly and with such strength that it surprised the both of us. Luckily, he’d grabbed my hips instead of my stomach, halting me before I could drop to my knees.

“No.” He firmly corrected, lifting me back to my normal height before turning the two of us around so that my back was to the bed. “It’s my turn.”

Much gentler now, he helped lower me onto the bed, but he didn’t follow me yet.

“Take off your clothes.” He instructed me as he removed his own.

I listened, watching him intently to try and determine his plans before he actually got to me. But he kept his expressions to a minimum, only giving away his enthusiasm in watching me sheepishly remove my clothing. My shirt was still on when he climbed onto the bed and over my body.

“I want to see you.” There was something pitiful about the way he uttered the words, and my hands hesitated, holding tightly to the hem of my shirt as I avoided his eyes.

“You have an eidetic memory, Spencer. You know what it looks like.”

“I’ll never stop wanting to see you. You’re so beautiful, (y/n).” He used my name, and my body reacted just as quickly as he realized his mistake. Grabbing my arms before I could close them over me, he brought my wrists against the bed beside my head. “You can leave it on for now.”

What he said provided me all the context I needed to know what he was planning, and I locked my legs around him, hoping that I could stall him for a few moments.

“Please, Spencer. Please fuck me.” I begged, arching my back and baring my neck to him, knowing that he could see my erratic pulse in my neck.

“I can’t. Not yet.” His voice was strained, one hand raised so that his fingers could brush over my neck. “It won’t be much longer.”

Frustrated by his undying desire to take care of me, I used my hand that he’d released to grab a handful of his hair. “I want to feel you inside of me again.” I moaned through the words, my heels digging into his back and bringing his hips down to meet mine. I watched as his eyelids fluttered shut, his breath hitching in his throat.

“I want to see the look on your face when you fill me up.” I continued, bucking up in search of the delicious friction I’d been deprived of for months now. “I know what you’re thinking when you do it.”

“F-fuck.” He struggled to lower his hand to hold my hips down, but I could tell he was scared he would hurt me in the process. It was a dangerous game, to ever put me in this position when neither of us had pants on. Spencer’s confidence wavered as he choked on his words, “This isn’t going to work.”

“You can’t think about that if I’m not touching you.”

“Yes, I can.” He responded with no hesitation, his eyebrows raising in a challenge.

“But isn’t it so much more fun when it’s actually possible?” I cooed.

“It’s always possible, it’s just so unlikel— Fuck!” Spencer cut off by his own gasp when I finally succeeded in pulling him against my heat.

The noise that I gave was something between a sigh and a moan, and I swore I saw Spencer’s pupils dilate in response. There were just some things he couldn’t hide, no matter how hard he tried. But my satisfaction was short lived, and Spencer sat up on his knees to place a manageable distance between us.

“We’re not doing this.” He growled through clenched teeth, his nails raking over my thighs before he removed them entirely. “Stop being a greedy fucking brat and spread your legs.”

I waited a second, hoping that Spencer would get impatient and force my legs open himself. But he flashed me a look, warning me that if I didn’t behave, he could very easily just send me to bed without any satisfaction. And as much as I wanted to call his bluff, the idea of going to bed without getting to touch him was so upsetting.

So, I slowly dropped my legs open, running my hands over the skin still burning from where his hands had touched me. And even slower, Spencer lowered himself until his face rested against my thigh, the scruff of his cheek causing a shiver to run up my body.

“Don’t tell me that a few months of me pampering you has undone all of my hard work.” He murmured so softly I almost didn’t hear it.

But the fact that I did was evidenced by my laugh. “That would imply you’ve actually accomplished something to undo, but I’m just as bratty as the day you met me, Dr. Reid.”

He smiled, his eyes focusing on my face as I continued to giggle, now urged on by the way his breath tickled my inner thigh. “Is that right?” He said in that familiar cocky voice. “Because I happen to recall that the first time that I did this, you tried to stop me.”

The blood rushed to my cheeks as my mind replayed the memory of his smirk from when he had held my legs open for him.

‘You’re not broken, little girl. Promise.’ Just the thought of the words was enough to cloud my mind, but I was dedicated to besting him in this exchange. If he was going to be arrogant, then I would give him the best challenge I could.

“Would you rather I fought you?” I asked, beginning to pull my legs shut before he grabbed them and pulled them over his shoulders.

“No. The instructions for tonight should be very easy to follow; even for you.”

I was trying to pay attention, but it was getting harder the closer he came to actually fucking doing something. It was so obvious that he was getting off on the way my eyes were barely able to stay open, my chest moving with each half-sob that came when he would lay a kiss against my hips.

“What are they?” I slurred, grabbing handfuls of the sheets to prevent myself from forcing him against me.

It was clearly the exact question he was waiting for, a devilish smirk stretching over his cheeks as he dragged his lips down to where I wanted them, moving them against my skin to say, “Stay still, and don’t be quiet.”

While I appreciated the instruction, I feared that it was in vain. Because when Spencer finally flattened his tongue against me, I couldn’t have stopped myself from immediately crying out if I tried.

My hands retained their death grip on the sheets, partially making up for the fact that my body immediately disobeyed his command to stay still. But I couldn’t help it; the long strokes of his tongue up and down my sex felt like pure bliss. And honestly, it wasn’t even just the physical sensations. It was just the knowledge that we were back where we should be; shamelessly indulging in our need for each other without inhibitions. Spencer was clearly enjoying himself, his hands struggling to gently hold me down while he devoured me like a man starved.

I couldn’t look at him, my head bent so far back I could see the headboard. His name fell from my mouth like a mantra, my hips rolling against each motion of his tongue.

“I missed you.” I cried, my legs once again locking around him, my heels on his back as I wished I could pull him closer. “I missed this so badly, Spencer.”

He couldn’t really answer, although I think the moan that he gave was meant to be a response. The vibrations almost sent me over the edge, but right before they could, he pulled back ever so slightly.

I glanced down to figure out why, and was met with his eyes watching me intently, analyzing every response I was giving him; memorizing the way my body shook with need after just a few weeks in his absence.

“Please, don’t stop.” I begged, not caring how pathetic the words sounded when they broke in my throat.

“Oh, I’m not.” He mumbled against me, raising his lips to close around the bundle of nerves at my crest.

At first, I just sighed, appreciating the soft flicks and swirls of his tongue that would eventually build up another release. But it was when I closed my eyes that he revealed his plan.

Without any warning, I felt his finger slip between my folds, thrusting into me with one fluid motion as my wanton moans filled the room. He didn’t let them distract him, his mouth intent on the rhythm it had set, and his hand insistently working to match it.

There was nothing comprehensible in the noises I made, and neither of us seemed to mind. Spencer was only urged on, quickly adding a second finger in his ruthless pace that finally forced me to release the wrinkled sheets in my hands. Instead, they wound through his hair, pulling me against him as I chased my release.

“Please.” I whined, hoping that he would know what I was asking for. Because I didn’t even know what I was asking for— just that he could give it to me.

And sure enough, he did, his fingers beginning to curl inside of me with each motion. I used all of the energy I could muster had to keep my hips relatively still, although they were still trembling with the tension spreading through my muscles that tightened around him.

I wanted to call out his name, to give him the praise and recognition he deserved, but my tongue was tied in the haze of pleasure that overtook me. I could barely breathe, my mind transported to some alternate universe where there was only Spencer and myself. There was no point in identifying where we diverged, because he felt so much like a part of me in that moment, I could never separate from him again.

My walls fluttered around his fingers that still pumped into me with the same vigor. His tongue continued to circle my clit while he gently sucked, clearly lost in his own form of pleasure from the activity.

I wished I could touch him more. I wanted to drag him up to my lips, turn him onto his back and ride him until my legs gave out. But I couldn’t; my body tired and no longer used to the energy we once made a habit of spending on each other on any given day. It had used that energy to dull the pain so I could enjoy the relatively tame experience we had just shared.

As I came down from my orgasm, I was filled with guilt over the fact that I hadn’t so much as touched him once in this entire encounter, and now my hands weren’t even able to keep my grip on his hair as he lifted his head.

Spencer seemed none the wiser about the shame brewing in my head, and he wiped his mouth to reveal a lovesick smile beneath his hand.

“Good girl.” He rasped, crawling up to my side rather than on top of me. With a tender hand, he brushed aside the strands of my hair that stuck to the sweat on my face. “I knew you could behave.”

He sounded so proud of me, which only served to intensify the guilt now pouring from my heart and tainting the rest of what should have been a beautiful memory. I clung to the little bit of light I saw in those toffee eyes.

“How dare you imply I’m ever capable of such a thing.” I chuckled, reaching out to hold him somehow.

He took my hand in his, raising it to his lips for a brief kiss before resting them both against his heart.

“Can I help you?” I sounded drunk from my exhaustion, but hopefully determined enough to convince him I was willing. He didn’t buy it.

“No, go to sleep.”

He leaned forward like he was going to kiss me, but then brought his fingers down over my eyes, brushing over my lids in an attempt to get me to close them. To his credit, it worked, but only for a second before they snapped back open.

“That’s not fair!” I murmured, pulling the sheet over me while I tried to sneak closer to him. I noticed the way he scrutinized my free hand’s movements, ready to stop it from doing too much.

‘It’s gonna be like that, huh?’ I didn’t let it stop me from trying. I didn’t even get to his bellybutton before he snatched my wrist.

“I said no.”

“You know... I could help you without touching you.” I offered instead, pressing my hand against his chest since he wouldn’t let it move any lower. “It’s not the first time we’ve touched ourselves for each other.”

Spencer snorted at the reference, bringing my hands up to his neck, where they happily ran through his now tangled hair.

“That didn’t end well for me last time.”

“I bet you still finished without me.” I teased, my tongue slipping out from my mouth.  “Did my pictures come in handy?”

“Like you said— I have an eidetic memory. I don’t need pictures.”

The most noticeable part of his response wasn’t the way his cheeks turned pink, but rather that he didn’t deny that he’d used the pictures. Knowing they were long gone now, considering Penelope’s tendency to snoop too much for her own good, I wondered if that memory was filed away somewhere special in his mind.

“You especially don’t need them when I’m right here.” I purred, tugging him closer by his hair until the gap between us was gone, our lips pressed feverishly against the other.

It was always like that. Like the second we touched, the proverbial dam between us turned to dust. Within a matter of seconds, we’d be so wrapped up in each other that we didn’t care about the wreckage left in our wake.

Spencer didn’t let it get that far, though. He hadn’t in some time.

“You have had enough excitement for one day. I don’t need anything.” He clarified, clearing his throat and acting like I couldn’t feel his erection pressed against my thigh. Still, his next statement was so genuine I couldn’t have argued with it if I tried. “I just wanted to take care of you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

But on the topic of wanting, I knew I felt it more. “I want things to be normal again.” I answered quickly, an urgency blooming in my throat that died when I tried to finish the thought. “I feel so... useless.”

His hand has grabbed my chin before I even noticed its absence on my hip. He held my face towards him, a dark and pained timbre in his voice.

“Don’t ever think that.”

It was a plea. I wanted to give him the relief and assurance he sought, but my gut told me to be honest with him, even if it hurt us.

“It’s just that before, we... did so much more and I’m scared that I won’t...”

Why was it so hard? He was looking at me like he would do anything to stop me from feeling even the slightest discomfort, but I felt like I was suffocating. I didn’t want to disappoint him. I didn’t want him to worry. I wanted to make him as happy as he made me, but...

“I’m scared that I won’t ever be able to do it again.”

He couldn’t tell me that I was wrong. If he tried to make it only about my physical condition, he risked the chance of me telling him I don’t want to do it ever again. Did I feel that way? It was hard to tell; it was too early to tell. But the crushing despair that I felt at the thought of losing that part of our relationship suggested I did not feel that way.

“Hey. Look at me.” Spencer’s voice tore me away from the intrusive thoughts about our inevitable fallout, his hand still holding me in place in front of him, and his eyes still promising me the world.

“Just because we’ve done something before doesn’t mean we ever have to do it again.”

The words felt like the first breath after struggling for air underwater and finally breaking the surface just in the nick of time. Why were they such a relief? I couldn’t figure it out, but was too afraid to ask, fearing how Spencer might take it. Although, the tears pooling at my lashes gave him more than enough to read.

“Tell me you understand.” His request was as gentle as always. After a moment of trying, and failing, to collect myself, I nodded.

He sighed, cautiously moving his palm to cup my cheek. It was his voice that broke then. “I know this is hard, but I need you to use your big girl words for this. I need to make sure you hear me.”

“I understand.” My throat ached as I forced the words out. I could tell he wasn’t convinced but knew any argument would be meaningless while we were both so tired.

“Thank you.” He said, anyway. And like the prettiest sounding broken record, he let his fingertips trail over any exposed area he could find as he spoke the same words I’d heard before, even more insistent. “Even if you never touched me again, just knowing that you’re alive and happy... That alone makes the happiest man in the world.”

Spencer’s lips pressed against my forehead, resting there for a little too long. From the uneven shake of his breath, I knew he was hiding something, but didn’t want to ask what. I suspected they were tears.

I had disappointed him again. I had hurt him, yet again. I hadn’t meant to.

“It’s all that I need. To know that you’re happy.” There was an implicit message hiding in those words.

He was saying he wanted me to be happy, consciously neglecting to voice the resigned addition, ‘even if it’s not with me.’

“I know.” I whispered, half asleep as he continued drawing patterns on my skin. I meant to tell him that he was the only man who’d ever made me feel truly happy, safe, and loved— the only one I trusted with my heart. But all that came out was a simple, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He said back, leaving me to wonder if he’d heard what I meant.

—————————————————

After everything I’d been through, I’d sworn that I would never want to be in a hospital ever again. But, unfortunately for me, it seemed my stubbornness extended even to my own limits, which explained why I was currently walking through the doors of the residential inpatient ward. It was a good idea in theory, to volunteer in the last place I wanted to be so that I could grow used to being there again.

It didn’t have to be a scary place.

Especially since the people around me weren’t the typical hospital patients. In fact, the people there weren’t even the usual patients of the hospital. Apparently, the ward was hosting a group of traveling patients that had been deemed fit for a vacation to the nation’s capital.

My assignment was simple enough - simply meet with a person and discuss the book they were currently reading. There was no requirement that we had to have read the book before, considering that would leave most people without a partner at all.

I was expecting to meet someone to discuss some niche romance novel or whatever had recently come out in theaters, but as I scanned the list of books, one stuck out to me more than the others.

The Book of Margery Kempe (1501).

It wasn’t the book itself that piqued my interest— I’d never read it. I had, however, listened to Spencer explain the entire premise to me on several occasions. Unsurprisingly, no one else volunteered for the book from the fifteenth century that referred to the main character as “this creature.” No one until me, that is.

There was no questioning who my partner was when I entered the room, spotting her quickly on the outskirts of the room with the book in her hand, but her eyes fixed on the raindrops slowly dripping down the window.

“Hi, are you Diana?”

She jumped a little at the sound of my voice, and I tried not to be consumed by guilt for surprising her despite my best efforts not to.

“Who are you?”

“I’m (y/n). I’m sorry if I scared you. I was assigned to be your book buddy today.” I explained, gesturing to the book on her lap with a smile that wasn’t big enough to be fake. From what the nurses had told me about her, I figured it was best to just be as genuine as possible… which made my answer to her next question a little more difficult.

“You’ve read this book?”

“Actually, I haven’t. No one had.” I laughed, pulling another chair over to her before taking a seat. “But I have heard someone go through basically the entire story in their own words, so...” I never finished the thought, cut off by a slight scoff from the woman.

“I figured. You’re very young.”

“Hey! Young people can read the classics.” I defended, crossing the lower half of my legs and tucking my hands between my knees. It probably gave away some of my nerves, but I figured it was alright considering she wasn’t a profiler and Spencer wasn’t here.

“But you don’t.” She wryly noted.

“Guilty. My boyfriend does, though.” I acquiesced, albeit a bit distracted as my mind decided to focus on those memories rather than the current reality.

“At least you’ve got that exposure. It’s important to learn these things.”

For a second, it felt like I was being lectured by my boyfriend, making it hard not to laugh, which I was pretty sure she didn’t appreciate.

“Can you tell me about it? I want to know if my boyfriend was just making stuff up.” I shrugged, laughing while I found myself avoiding her eyes. She noticed that behavior; most people would.

But to my surprise, she started to explain the book, anyway. Less surprising was the realization that Spencer hadn’t made up any of it. It was clear as day from their similar words that they had definitely read the same book. And if I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought they’d discussed it together, too.

She was more talented than he was at explaining, though. Maybe it was a little bit my fault, considering I always got distracted by his voice. But with her, it really did feel like someone sharing a part of themselves. I could tell how deeply she cared for literature, and it made me more excited to hear about the chaste holy woman that found herself tempted by jealousy and sex.

When her story was winding to an end, I was almost sad that it was over. “You must have been a professor.” I mumbled, having already forgotten the information I was given by the nurses.

She was quick to correct me, her mouth curling into a frown as she said, “I still am. I’m just not on the campus anymore.”

“Of course. Gotta stay sharp, right?” I half-heartedly joked, sitting up from my slouched position. A brief stint of silence stretched between us and glancing at the clock I realized that it would still be a little while until Spencer could come get me. So, I turned back to the woman in front of me, noticing the way she stared out the window as she chewed on her nails.

“Is that why you wanted to visit D.C.?” I wondered aloud, and her response didn’t help assuage that curiosity at all.

“I... have another reason.”

“That sounds very mysterious, Diana.” I giggled, leaning forward and whispering, “Are you secretly a rebel?”

She scoffed, but I detected amusement behind the apparent derision. “Nothing like that.”

As sneaky and vague as she was being, and the fact that I had been warned of her paranoia, I still found myself wanting to ask her what could possibly make her as happy as her current thought.

“So what is it?” I said, leaning back in an effort to seem less insistent, explaining my intentions in a rant reminiscent of my boyfriend. “I don’t mean to pry, I just... you got really happy and I’d love to share in that excitement.”

“That’s just selfish.”

She really was so much like him.

“That’s how you know I won’t judge you.” I pointed out, raising one hand in the air and placing the other on my heart.

“I’m not worried about that.” She just waved her hand at me, ignoring my dramatic gesticulations and sighing as she glanced down at the book once more. After another moment of contemplation, her eyes flicked up to me so quickly I almost missed them, analyzing my features one more time before she carefully said, “I’m here to visit my son.”

“That sounds wonderful.”

Although her expression was anxious, she still seemed at least a little relieved to have shared her plans with someone.

“He is.” She returned, lightly brushing the back of the book, almost like she was trying to remember something etched on the beveled hardcover. “He’s a good boy. Very bright. He has wonderful adventures. He goes all over the country. He used to tell me everything but... he’s gotten too busy for his mother these past few years.”

As I took in the words, I felt the pain in her voice. My heart wrenched in my chest, imagining how awful it must be to not have a chance to talk to your family. “I’m sure he doesn’t mean to ignore you.” At least, I hoped not. She had so many stories to tell, even in just this short window, I couldn’t imagine anyone would want to avoid her. Then again… I knew it could be hard.

“I know he’s busy. That’s why I wanted to come here. It makes it easier for him.” She was confident in her explanation, and I nodded back with similar gusto.

“Have you talked to him yet?”

“No. I’m going to have them call him today.”

We were both happy then, and I clapped my hands together in front of me to suppress the urge to touch her as I excitedly replied, “I hope you get to see him.”

“Me too,” she agreed, simultaneously hopeful and defeated, before turning back to the window with the same wistfulness as before. “If not, the museums will be nice, too.”

“Hey, if you need a docent, I could always call my boyfriend. He would be so excited to talk to a fellow scholar who could actually follow along.” I excitedly replied, rocking forward in my chair with a goofy grin at the thought. She reminded me enough of him that I figured the two would get along. He’d at least understand what she talked about, unlike me.

“There’s no one that can compare to my son.” She warned, narrowing her eyes and pouting in a way I swore I’d seen before on another face.

“I bet. He does sound a lot like him, though. I bet they’d be friends.” The gears in my brain, rusted and slightly worn, started to turn. “They actually might be... my boyfriend lives near here.”

And that was when it hit me, the obvious conclusion I’d been avoiding for some reason. That creeping, unsettling familiarity wasn’t from coincidence; it was my brain recognizing her as an extension of the man I loved.

“...What’s your son’s name?”

She never got to answer, because no sooner had I finished saying the words thanwe both heard Spencer’s voice from the door behind us.

“Mom?”

The realization crashed into all three of us like a goddamn freight train. And even with my flair for the dramatic, I found my head spinning as I tried to will time to rewind itself.

“Spencer? How did you know I was here?” Diana said through a confused gasp, turning to me to see the equally stunned look on my face.

“I didn’t… I—“

They both turned to me, but I was too busy staring halfway between them, my jaw dropped open and my brain suddenly devoid of any helpful thought.

When it decided to finally be helpful, it was only marginally better. “Well… that makes a lot of sense.” I said with a cringeworthy laugh. When neither of them laughed, and continued to stare at me, I quickly shot up from my chair and waved a shaking hand. “You should talk to your mom. I’ll give you guys a minute.”

I didn’t get very far before Spencer’s hand caught my wrist, his wild eyes wide and insistent as he crackled, “Actually, I need a minute alone with you. If that’s okay.”

I turned to Diana for her permission but found nothing useful. She was also still caught up in the disaster that had just occurred, and turned back to her son who seemed genuinely apologetic.

“Sorry mom, I’ll… I’ll be right back.”

Spencer nearly dragged me out of the room, shutting the door and hiding out of sight of any windows. If he was ready to unleash his pent up anxiety, though, he wasn’t quick enough.

“Spencer, what the shit?!” I whisper-yelled, the sound echoing through the sterile hallway.

My boyfriend didn’t have any answers, his hands raking through his hair as he clearly tried to calm his heart and rapid breath. “I’m sorry I— I didn’t know that she was here! What is she doing here?!”

“Oh my god. Shut up. I’m freaking out. What if she thinks I’m weird?” I rambled back, grabbing my chest once I realized that I was freaking out just was badly as the idiot in front of me. Because seriously, he couldn’t tell me his mom’s name so I wouldn’t be blindsided like this?

Then again, I guess I couldn’t talk.

“What did you say to her?” He whispered back, dragging his hands over his face. He seemed eerily calm while asking, considering just how much we could have gotten into during our conversation. Although, I guess it would have been weird to share the more intimate, embarrassing details with a stranger at a hospital.

“I don’t know! We just talked about you!”

“You talked about me?!”

“Well we didn’t know we were both talking about you!” I said was quietly as possible, which was not quiet at all. Waving my arms between us, I tried to explain the jumbled mess in my head. “She was talking about her son and I was talking about my boyfriend and— Actually, that reminds me.”

“What?”

His answer came in the form of a soft thwack on the back of his head. He jumped, raising his hands to his head in both shock and embarrassment at the public chastisement, despite there being no one around to witness it.

“Call your mother, asshole!”

“Ow?! Don’t hit me!” He whined, and I could tell from the tone that the only damage done was to his ego.

“Stop ignoring your mother! You shouldn’t even be out here!” I reminded him, laying my hands against his chest and beginning to push him back towards the door. “Get back in there!”

Spencer’s hands held onto mine, and for the first time in a while I noticed that they were shaking. The lighthearted panic I’d felt seconds before vanished, replaced with a painful sadness that seemed to bleed from him into my hands.

“I’m not trying to ignore her, I just…” His eyes were struggling to focus, and the crackle in his voice warned me that there was something he was trying to avoid saying. “I can explain… This.”

I didn’t need to hear it.

“Explain what?” I meant the question to be an expression of my feelings, but it seemed to freak him out more. Like I actually expected an answer for why his mother was in a program like this. Like the reason he had kept that from me mattered. I already knew the reason he didn’t tell me— It was pretty obvious.

“Spencer, I don’t care that she’s here. That doesn’t bother me.”

From the faraway look in his eyes, I knew he didn’t really believe me. I couldn’t blame him entirely. The shame was clear on his features. But I also knew that nothing I could say in that moment would make him believe me; it would probably take a long time. That was okay. We had time.

“I’m serious. She’s your mother and you love her, so of course I’m going to like her.” I tried to reassure him anyway, and I noticed the small twitch of his pout that slowly turned into a pitiful smile.

Trying to keep that upward trend, I motioned to my absolutely ridiculous outfit and bedhead before I laughed, “I’m mostly just mortified about the fact that I just met your mother looking like this and acting like a fucking moron.”

Thankfully, Spencer laughed back. His hands gripped mine tighter, and through the tears that stayed perched on his eyes without falling, he croaked, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Just… go see your mom. I’ll go hang out in the cafeteria for a minute.” I jumped up on my toes, yanking my hands back only to them around his neck.

His arms caught me like they always did, holding me so tightly against him that I could feel his heartbeat against my chest. I kissed him just as hard, trying to remind him that there was nothing in the world that could ruin the happiness I felt when he held me.

I held his face as the kiss ended, squishing his cheeks together and warping his smile in the process. I was just grateful that it was still there.

“And take your time talking to her, because I am fucking starving.” I instructed. The crisp hospital air on my skin was cold as he left, but inside my chest, butterflies erupted that kept me warm. He gave me one final goofy wave before we went our separate ways again.

As I wandered through the hospital halls, I wondered if he knew how nervous I actually was. I couldn’t tell him yet; he would misinterpret it, regardless of his profiling skills. He would see the anxiety in my interactions with her as my fear over his future mental state instead of what it really was— fear that the other woman he loved wouldn’t approve of me.

There was no sense in worrying about it yet. Diana and I had shared a great time together as far as I could tell, and I would definitely make sure that Spencer spent more time talking to her in the future. So as depressing as the hospital cafeteria could be, it wasn’t so bad that day.

—————————————————

Being alone with Diana was so much different after I’d learned that she was Spencer’s mother. Then again, we weren’t really alone - Spencer was there, he’d just passed out and somehow ended up with his head against the pillow on my lap. I was a little surprised by how comfortable he was being so touchy feely in front of his mother, but I’d also recognized the exhaustion the second he walked into the hospital. He’d been out cold for at least 10 minutes, and I was barely able to stay awake, myself.

Diana seemed wide awake, though, watching the minute rise and fall of Spencer’s shoulder as he slept. At least, I thought that was what she was watching, but it could have also been my hand stroking his arm.

“My son seems very happy.”

I looked up, shaken by the sudden sound after nearly falling asleep to the rhythm of Spencer’s breath against my knee. “I think that has more to do with you being here.” I said through a yawn.

“I’m not so sure.” That was all she said, quiet and skeptical. Her eyes were scrutinizing everything she could see, and I thanked the stars that I didn’t have to go through this without him here, at least. At least we’d had one nice memory together first.

“Are you the reason he’s been so busy?”

I was dreading the question but had already planned my response. “I hope not. His job is so stressful, and he spends so much of his free time taking care of me.” I looked down at the mop of brown hair that hadn’t been brushed.

When I ran my hand through the ends of his curls, he shifted on my lap, his hand coming up to grab my thigh as he buried his face into the pillow. I chuckled at the clingy movements, which poorly contrasted my words.

“It makes me feel awful.”

I expected her to look disappointed or disturbed by the action, but she mostly just looked… sad.

“He’s good at taking care of people.” She explained, her head jerking away to stare at the lamp beside her. “I made him do it too often.”

Her answer hurt me in more ways than one. It hurt me because I felt the guilt and shame in her voice over something that she had no control over, which was obviously something that should never happen. But it also hurt because I heard myself in it, and I had to ask myself if, just like I had found traits of my father in Spencer, he’d found his mother in me.

Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t be ashamed of being like her - she was brilliant and obviously cared for him deeply. It was the source of the shame that frightened me.

Was he just with me to take care of me? How soon would he grow tired of that? What would happen when I got better? Would I ever? Did I even want to, if that meant he would leave?

They were terrible, awful thoughts to have. So, I did what I was best at, and shoved them back into the corner of my mind to revisit when I was desperate and alone.

“I think he would disagree. He obviously loves you very much.” Was what I said, instead.

“I could say the same for you.” There was a slight bitterness in her words that forced a frown out of me. The words were forceful, almost like a compulsion that she wanted to fight but was too tired to win. She seemed to regret that, too.

“I know my son... and I’ve never seen him like this before.” She pointed to him on my lap, still sound asleep despite the conversation happening above him. “I don’t think he’s ever slept that well with me. And…”

Part of me wanted to tell her that it wasn’t always like this. I wanted her to know that it had nothing to do with any failing of her own, but a failing on the part of the rest of the world for hurting him when neither of us had been there. But she probably felt the same guilt I did that we couldn’t fix those broken parts. Her eyes met mine, and in the reflection, I saw both of our apprehension.

“I’ve never felt like a girl was taking my son away from me before.”

The breath wasn’t knocked from me, but it did fall out of me in a slow, shaky exhale. I didn’t know what to say back, terrified by the implication behind the words just as much as the fact she felt them.

“He’ll always be yours first.” I promised her, refusing to look away from her eyes even as she refused to meet them. I needed her to know that I would never be a threat to them. That all I wanted or cared about was that he was happy and safe, and that I knew she felt the same.

“Then he should call me more.” Diana said, wry humor bleeding back into the conversation despite how heavy it had become.

“I’ll make sure he does.” I answered, my hands resuming their gentle soothing motions. I saw her hand mimicking the actions against her blanket and found myself wondering about things I’d never ask her. I knew virtually nothing about his childhood aside from the prodigy thing, but it was clear that his father was not in the picture, and that he was very close with his mother.

I couldn’t blame her for wanting to protect him. Just as I had thought it, she’d said it herself.

“When you’re kind like my son, the world will eat you alive if no one is protecting you.”

Maybe Spencer had gotten that mind reading trait from his mother, rather than his profiler training, I thought.

“Are you going to protect him?”

I wasn’t ready for that question. Honestly, I hadn’t even considered it. In all the time we’d been together, I’d selfishly worried about how any harm to him would affect me. In my defense, it had always seemed the more likely scenario.

I was so worried about being the source of his hurt or not being able to fix it that I never thought about how I could prevent it. It almost felt… inevitable. Everyone who loved me got hurt, and he’d already made up his mind on that topic.

“I’m going to try.” The hesitance in my voice gave away my anxieties, and Diana spoke quicker and bolder. 


“You said he takes care of you, but what do you do for him?”

The walls were closing in on me, and I couldn’t fucking breathe. My hand on Spencer’s arm grabbed his shirt before I noticed. I wanted him to be awake, to hold me and tell me that it would be okay. I wanted to be far away from that conversation— that question.

“I-I…” I mumbled, trying to flatten my hand as his mother saw it, trying to act like I wasn’t a fucking child clinging to her boyfriend to save her from a question she didn’t have a satisfying answer to.

It was too late, and Diana covered her mouth as she looked away. “I see.” She said before we both went silent.

The silence didn’t help either, though. If anything, it felt worse. Like my chest had been torn open and she could see all the contents, and the longer I gave her to draw her own conclusions about what she saw, the worst they would become.

That was stupid, right? I couldn’t tell. She liked me, right? Did it matter?

“He told me he wants to get married and have kids and I’m just...” I started to ramble, my hands now hovering above Spencer as I stared down at him, still sleeping soundly like the world wasn’t crushing me above him. In a panic, I looked up to Diana with what I can only assume was a terrified, frantic look. “I’m worried. I’m scared that he won’t be as happy as he could be if he stays with me instead of... someone else. And that question scares me because I still don’t know why he cares about me so much when I can’t give him half of what he gives me.”

My chest heaved from a combination of the lack of breath and skyrocketing pulse. Diana peered at me through her peripherals, a battle visible behind her gaze.

“Most people would be scared to admit that. Especially to his mother.” She thought out loud, and I knew she was weighing my open admission to determine how likely it was that I was lying.

“I figured lying would be worse. I know honesty is important to your family.” I confessed, hoping that my openness wouldn’t come back to bite me in the ass. “I don’t ever want to lie to either of you.”

I left off the ‘again.’

“You know what I think?” Diana said, tapping her chin and readjusting the blanket over her legs as she found a way to be more comfortable with the tension floating in the air.

I took it as a good sign. I hoped it was a good sign. I looked at her in anticipation.

“I think... you two will be happier than you think.” Diana’s lips curled ever so slightly as she held her own hand, rubbing the back of her hand the same way Spencer often rubbed mine. “Love is more than similar beliefs. It’s wanting to share your life with someone. Wanting to see them happy.”

Despite the content of her words, it didn’t feel like a lecture. It was… warm, and comforting. Her voice sounded familiar and loving and safe. She was the one who had taught Spencer to talk.

“I love my son more than anything else in the world. I won’t let anyone take him away unless I’m positive that he will be happy.” Diana finished; the warning grave but her voice quiet.

“I understand.” I replied just as softly, finally looking back down to Spencer. My heart felt like it would burst from the image. As much as I wanted him to see me and his mother having a heart to heart, it was best not to worry him with our battling affections, no matter how minimal the risk.

“Do you love him?”

The question hung in the air because I was still so caught up in his face that I almost forgot she couldn’t read my mind.

“Yes.” I felt the tears forming in my eyes as I breathlessly repeated, “Yes, I do. I love him.”

Diana must have heard the strain in my voice and seen the tiredness in my eyes, because the threatening tone faded. “Then take care of him.” She said, more like a plea than a demand. “Take care of him like I never could, because you know how much he deserves it.”

I nodded, excitedly and happily, my voice breaking and interrupted by a hard swallow to rid myself of the lump in my throat when I said, “I will.”

With perfect timing, Spencer’s body jerked under my hand as it found its way back to his shoulder. “What are you guys talking about?” He slurred before even opening his eyes, clearly bothered by the lost time wherein his mother and I could have spoken about any number of horrifying things.

“We were just saying it’s time for me to head out.” I lied, and Diana’s sly smirk was enough of an indication for me to feel alright about it. It was funny—I’d just told her I never wanted to lie to him, but this one seemed pretty harmless. She deserved alone time with her son, after all.

“Do you want me to drive you?” He finally sat up, rubbing his face to try and get rid of the creases that had formed from the pillow’s texture.

I laughed at the question because he was so obviously not in a position to drive. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d gotten an Uber after leaving his place, and I was sure it wouldn’t be the last. At least this time wasn’t a walk of shame.

“No, I’m fine. You stay here and spend time with your mom. Awake, this time.” I warned, poking him on the nose and earning a playful giggle from the grown man at my side. “She came a long way. She deserves it.”

He quickly got me back, grabbing my face and pulling me forward to plant a kiss on my forehead. And as much as I would have preferred one on the lips, I was grateful for his sudden modesty in front of his mother. It still felt strange.

“Okay. I love you. Drive safe please. And tell me when you get home.” He instructed as I nodded along, already having memorized the speech from every time I’d ever left him.

“Of course.” I murmured through a somewhat embarrassed pout before I got up and grabbed my things.

Before I made my way to the door, I stopped, turning to see Spencer take the seat beside his mother. She took his hand, but she looked at me. I thought about hugging her but knew that Spencer’s company was far superior to mine, and that every second I distracted her was one less she got with him. So, I settled for a wave and a smile.

“Goodnight Diana. Thanks for the talk.”

“Goodnight.” She returned, with a contented smile washing over her as her son rested his head on her shoulder. The final image of the two of them happy in each other’s company was enough to satisfy me until the next time I saw him. Because, like we’d just discussed, he was happy, and that was all that mattered.

As I opened the door to leave, she spoke again. “Thank you.” She said, and I knew she was talking about more than the conversation.

“Anytime.”

—————————————————

| Part 19 |