#when i say 18 degrees...i mean in fahrenheit...

[aether-weather]

manifesting summer rn (it's 18 degrees)

[freedomfireflies]

Teenage Dirtbag*

Summary: The one where Harry's popular, cool, and everything you aren't. And maybe you want to keep him your dirty, little secret.

Word Count: 5.5k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, gag, exhibitionism if you squint, fratrry, not suitable for Ramadan!

“Okay, next question. What is the Albedo Effect?”

“27.”

“Harry, come on.”

“What?”

“I need an answer.”

“That is an answer. Maybe not to this question, but it’s an answer to some question.”

Your expression falls flat as you toss a piece of popcorn at him. “H, seriously.”

“What?”

“We’re supposed to be studying.”

“We are.”

“No, actually studying.” You toss another piece at him, which he catches in his mouth. “Harry—"

“The Albedo Effect is the reflectivity of the Earth’s surface,” he finally says before grinning smugly. “There. Happy?” 

“Mm.”

“Since I got it right, do I win a kiss?”

“No. You win another question,” you say before switching to the next notecard. “Okay, what is the average temperature of the Earth’s surface?”

“27.”

“Harry.”

He laughs before he’s reaching across the bed to grab the stack of notebooks, cards, and books all over your lap. Effortlessly discarding of them while leaning toward you to ghost his lips over yours. “59 degrees Fahrenheit.”

Your lashes flutter. You want to argue. Want to fight him and demand your things back. But it’s hard when he’s this close. “Um…right.”

He smiles, mouth dangerously tempting as it dances along the curve of your jaw. “Give me another.”

“I…” You swallow. “I can’t. You stole my cards.”

“Oh, did I? Oops.”

“You’re mean.”

“Yeah. But you like me.”

“Not right now.”

“Yes now. Always.”

You huff. “I’m not…I’m not kissing you until we finish studying—”

“Well, I’m not studying until you kiss me.”

“Harry—”

“What, angel?”

You fist his shirt. You mean to push him away and yet somehow, he ends up even closer. “I didn’t invite you over for this.”

“I know.” He smirks again. “This is just a bonus.”

“We agreed to study.”

“We are.”

“Jessica’s gonna be back soon—”

“So?”

“So, you know you can’t be here when she gets here,” you remind him, finally finding the strength to shove him back. “Come on, a few more questions and then we can take a break.”

“You said that a few questions ago,” he argues.

You grab the cards. “Oops.”

Fifteen minutes go by before you finally reach the end of your notes, earning a loud sigh from your study buddy as he flops onto his back in defeat. 

“That was awful,” he declares. His head rolls until his eyes find yours. A soft green beneath those long lashes. “You take way too many notes.”

“I like to be prepared,” you pout as you stand and put them back on your desk. “You don’t take nearly enough.”

“Because I have you.”

“Yeah, well…that’s cheating.”

“It’s not cheating if I’m helping you use them.”

You turn around and place your hands on your hips. “You’re annoying, you know that?”

“Yeah.” He sits up and reaches for you. Easily tugging you between his legs as you try—futilely—not to fall for that gorgeous grin. “And yet you keep me around.”

“Mm…for now.”

“For now, huh?” His large hands slip beneath the hem of your shirt and you do nothing to stop him. “You just use me for my cock, is that it? Cause I’m a good fuck?”

Your skin grows warm as you look away. “Stop it, don’t say it like that.”

“What? M’I embarrassing you, pretty girl?” he whispers. He squeezes your sides, palms soft against your stomach. “Which part did it? Cock or fuck?”

You close your eyes and groan. “Harry—”

“What? They’re just words, baby.”

“Yeah, but they’re dirty words.”

He’s grinning again. Arrogant and far too smug. “I’ve seen this pretty mouth do far dirtier things—”

You bury your face in your hands to hide. “Please don’t remind me—”

“Why not? Hm? You don’t wanna remember the way you took me down your throat like a good girl?” He lifts your shirt and presses a gentle kiss just below your belly button. “Or what about the way you scratched your nails down my back as you came? Crying my name until your voice went raw?”

“Harry…”

“What about when I fingered you under the table?” he murmurs, then moves his kisses up your torso. One after the other. Slow. “And you had to bite your cute, little lip to keep from moaning?”

You start to squirm. “H…H, please—”

“What about the time I bent you over that desk—” He nods his chin toward the table in the corner of your dorm room. “—and made you cum so hard, you squirted.”

You make another noise and melt into his touch. They’re good memories, you know that. But they do unspeakable things to your anxiety. Just the thought of what someone might say…the idea of what the two of you have done. You weren’t raised to think or feel so freely and Harry is a master at making you nervous.

You’ve done more with him than you ever have anyone else. More than you imagined you’d ever do. And even if you wouldn’t trade it for the world, you can’t say you really welcome the reminder.

His kisses reach your chest. Naked and bare and begging to be touched. “You can be dirty, too, pretty girl.” 

Your hand finds his hair. Fingers sweeping through his soft curls that are normally restrained by some sort of beanie or bandana. “H…”

He hums. He knows he’s embarrassing you. But you suppose that’s why he does it. 

The small room falls silent, save for the gentle sounds of his kisses as they move toward your breast. His tongue is dangerously close and you know if he gets his way, you’ll never get anything else done.

However, just before those pretty pink lips can make contact, you hear the sound of your roommate’s voice down the hall. Loud enough to startle you and pull you out from between his legs.

Quickly, you’re tugging your shirt back down and grabbing his hand to lead him to the window. Nearly shoving him out onto the fire escape before he’s even had a chance to catch his breath.

“Go,” you whisper as you toss his flannel at him. “Hurry.”

“You know, as much as I like being your dirty little secret, you know she’s gonna find out eventually,” he says while dipping beneath the window frame until he’s completely out of the room.

“I know. But today is not that day.”

Once you’re sure she won’t see him, you get ready to close the curtains. But you’re stopped by his large hand slipping around the back of your neck as he yanks your mouths together. Finally getting the kiss he so desperately wanted.

“You’re still coming to the party this Friday, yeah?” he murmurs against your lips.

You kiss him back just once before you’re shoving at him again. “We’ll see,” you call.

He winks.

With that, the window slams shut, and he disappears into the darkness. Right as Jessica slips inside the room and begins to tell you about her incredibly long day.

And every trace of Harry has gone.

“Ten minutes. Just ten minutes. And if we hate it, we can leave.”

“All right, fine,” you agree, begrudgingly following your friend into the large, familiar house that sits a few miles outside of campus. “Ten. But if I get a single drink spilled on me…I’m out.”

“Deal.”

You laugh as Jess throws her arm around your shoulders to lead you inside, shoving past the group of college students already gathering in the living room.

Every inch of the house is packed full of people. The music is loud, the smell of weed is strong, and a lively game of cup pong is being had down the hall. Truth be told, this scene always tends to catch you off guard. No, this isn’t your first party. But you were raised in a world and in a home where drugs and alcohol were never present. 

You don’t mind being around them or watching people participate, but the concept is still rather foreign to you. Even if Harry’s presence in your life is beginning to change that.

Speaking of, you can’t help but search for him as Jessica drags you from room to room. You imagine he’s around somewhere. After all, this is his frat house, and you’ve never known him to miss a party.

But with the football game happening tomorrow night, you wonder if he’ll be out practicing or if he’ll be here with his teammates, pre-gaming.

You catch a glimpse of his red, backwards baseball cap as you’re leaving the kitchen. He’s across the house, clad in a black, graphic t-shirt and skinny jeans, leaning against the wall as he talks to one of his friends.

He’s nodding along to something they’re saying, taking slow sips of whatever’s in his solo cup while lazily looking around.

And that’s when he finds you.

Even with all these people, you feel like the only two in the room. And you catch the way he smiles. A soft, secret smirk meant just for you. And a gleam in his eye as he takes another sip and returns to his conversation.

He’s glad you’re here and honestly, you think you are, too.

“Oh, Zack, there you are!” Jessica suddenly exclaims before she’s yanking you toward one of the guys on Harry’s team. “Zack, this is the friend I was telling you about.”

A bit confused, you and Zack exchange a nod as your roommate begins the excited introductions.

“This is the guy I wanted to set you up with,” she whispers under her breath before straightening up. “So, uh, Zack! You’re single, right?”

Even more surprised, Zack blinks as his attention drifts to you. He hesitates, and for just a moment, you wonder if he recognizes you.

This isn’t the first time you’ve been in this house. And it’s not the first time you’ve met Zack. However, you and Harry have been rather diligent about keeping your visits a secret, even from the other boys that live here.

Still, Zack almost caught you once when you were forced to hide in the shower as he brushed his teeth. And even though he didn’t seem to notice, Harry mentioned that he did see the earrings you accidentally left behind. The same earrings he proceeded to tease Harry about for the next week.

And the same earrings you’re wearing now.

But, if he’s begun to put two and two together, he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he shakes his head. “Nah, not really. I’m kind of seeing Annie. I guess.”

You smirk. “You guess?”

“I mean, we’re fucking,” he argues. “But, like…I wouldn’t say we’re together. But she would. I don’t know. But she’d be fucking pissed if I went out with someone else.”

To your surprise, Zack seems to be covering for you. Because you happen to know Annie is actually seeing Derek. She and Zack never got past the drunk-fuck phase, but it seems Jessica doesn’t realize the lie being told. That, or she’s lost interest.

“Oh, boo,” she pouts before turning to you. “Well, I tried. Sorry, babe.”

You laugh. “More than all right. I’m…I’m gonna go use the bathroom and maybe look for some water. I’ll meet you here in a bit?”

“Yes! Text me! Or call me. Or…just yell my name really loud,” she says, already slipping into the next room. “Whenever you wanna go, we will, okay? Seriously.”

“Got it,” you call. And with that, the two of you split. Leaving you to look for the only man you really care to see.

He’s no longer talking to his friend and doesn’t seem to be in the lower part of the house. So, you make your way to the next floor. Shoving past couples making out on the staircase and groups doing blow in the bathroom.

He might be in his room, although that’s perhaps a little too obvious. You still aren’t ready for people to know that the two of you are…well, whatever you two are. And you can’t imagine he is, either. Not considering his reputation and the other girls he’s been with before. 

Compared to them, you’re just…you.

Swallowing your own disappointment, you continue down the hall in search of him when a large hand suddenly wraps around your upper arm and yanks you into a bedroom.

You aren’t surprised that it’s him. You aren’t even surprised that he’s brought you back to his room. You are, however, rather confused by the giddy grin on his face.

“You came,” he whispers before he’s shoving you against the closed door and kissing you hard. “Been waiting all fucking night to see you.”

You’re breathless. You always are when you’re with him, but this…now. His kiss, his touch, his voice. The sultry way he speaks that goes straight to the place between your thighs.

“Missed you,” he says. He sucks on the spot below your ear. “God, I really fucking missed you, angel. You have no idea.”

“You saw me this morning,” you remind him. “And for lunch in your car.”

“S’too long,” he argues. “You don’t know what you do to me, baby.”

You grin. Even if you know he’s merely being cute, you can’t help but believe him. “Yeah, okay.”

“I mean it. Besides, you think I wanna watch Zack fucking hit on you all goddamn night?”

You lean back. “You saw?”

“Course I fucking saw. Could hear that shit-eating grin from outside,” he huffs before he’s kissing you again, as if to prove a point. Either to you or to himself. “But he wouldn’t if you’d just let me take you on a proper date.”

“H…”

“Yeah, I know.” His kisses get softer. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“No, I…I get it,” you sigh against his cheek. “I just…it’s hard—”

He takes your face between his hands and makes you look at him. “I know, angel. M’not pushing, I promise. I’ll do whatever you want me to.” 

You squeeze his wrists and smile. You sometimes find yourself surprised by how willing he is to be seen with you. You aren’t sure why, but you always assumed he’d be ashamed. That he’d be the one to want to hide. To lock you away and keep your rendezvous a secret. 

And maybe you like it this way because you’re afraid. Because you’re worried that once he sees how odd the two of you look together, he won’t want you anymore. That the relentless teasing and comparisons will drive him to end things.

And you’ll be devastated.

Perhaps sensing where your mind has gone, Harry resumes his work on your throat, efficiently distracting you. You happily relinquish your overthinking to him and his intentions, and it feels good. You used to be scared of being touched, of being loved. But it’s becoming easier with him. A routine you wouldn’t trade for the world.

He begins to pull you toward his bed. It’s made for once, which you have to admit impresses you. Harry doesn’t tend to devote his time to things he doesn’t think matter. Like cleaning his space, taking notes, or worrying about his classes. Somehow, he manages to pass every semester, keeping his spot on the football team, while you struggle to keep up even with all the time in the world.

Half the time you suggest studying together, it’s because you’d actually like his help.

“Wait…wait, Har,” you murmur as he sits onto the mattress and begins to pull you in a straddle over his thighs. “Wait, not…not when you’ve been drinking—”

“Haven’t,” he exhales against your mouth. “S’just Sprite. Coach doesn’t let us drink before a game.”

Almost relieved, you lift a brow. “But he doesn’t mind a wild party?”

He smirks. “Technically, we’re not supposed to do that either. But…I kind of live here, so…”

“Ah.” You dip down and press your lips to his softly. “Then I guess you just don’t have a choice, huh?”

“Nope.” He moves his hands to your waist, subtly grinding your body over his until you both groan. “Besides. I’d much rather be here with you than down there with them.”

“Mm. That’s the right answer,” you tease as he laughs and slips his fingers under your dress. 

You know this dance by now. You even enjoy it when Harry’s at the lead. He knows what he’s doing, even if you don’t. And he knows just how to teach you. Show you. Guide you. 

You take a deep breath and let yourself submit. Let his hands roam, his thighs flex. Let his mouth travel down your neck and to the curve of your shoulder. He slips the strap down until he has more room and then he moves for your chest. Hungry kisses meant to devour you.

“My pretty girl,” he whispers, tongue licking a stripe along the top of your breast. “Wore this just to torture me, didn’t you?”

Your lashes flutter. “Thought…thought it would be easier.”

“Easier?” He glances up, smirk devious. “You wanted me to have easy access to your pretty pussy?”

The vulgar language brings a fervent heat right to your face. You glance away out of habit, but he doesn’t let you this time. Instead, he pinches your chin tight between his fingers and forces your attention back.

“Is that right, angel?” he asks again, firm.

You swallow. “…yes.”

“Mm. Good girl,” he mumbles before moving his hand to your tit. Squeezing it gently while wrapping his lips over your nipple. “Or maybe you’re my naughty girl tonight. Yeah? Wearing something so sinful. Just for me.”

You nod quickly as your nails scratch down his scalp. “Just for you.”

“Mhm. Not Zack.”

“No. No, not Zack.”

He simpers at the sound of your breathless whines. Enjoying the way your hips roll against his. The way your naked thighs feel against his clothed ones. “Gonna let me take care of you, baby? Let me have a little taste?”

Your stomach flips. Harry has introduced you to a world of pleasure you never knew possible, but you still can’t deny that it makes you feel vulnerable. The way your body is put on display for him. Accessible to his tongue, his hands, his…

You close your eyes and force a nod. You just won’t think about it. You’ll let him have his taste and then he’ll start. You understand the science behind it. Your body needs to be properly lubricated before he can begin. And it’s not exactly a step you care to skip, even if it does make you nervous.

He grins at your reaction before he’s leaning back onto the bed and dragging you up toward his face, that bright red hat falling off in the process.

He’s mentioned this position before. Apparently, it’s his favorite, but it certainly isn’t one you’re used to. You don’t understand the mechanics. How you’re meant to surrender control but also keep from crushing his pretty face beneath your weight.

“Angel,” he calls, pulling you back. “What did I say last time, hm?”

“I…I know, I just…” You chew on the inside of your cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you—”

“You won’t,” he promises yet again. “You can’t. I know what I’m doing, yeah? Trust me. Just let me do this, I’ve got you.”

And you know that he does. So, surrendering your inhibitions, you let him place you just where he wants before he nods at you to pull your underwear to the side.

You do. Fingers shaking as you drag the damp fabric away and present yourself to his tongue. You want to look away. Want to hide from the growing look of hunger in his eyes, but he’s already sucking on you before you can.

And once he starts…things don’t seem so bad.

His tongue is magic. His lips are divine. Even his hands are wonderful with the way they hold you still. 

You think you could spend a lifetime against his mouth. Live here, die here. Do anything and be anything he wanted so long as he never stopped.

“Doing so good for me, pretty girl,” he says after a moment, and you almost miss it over the faint thumping of music outside his room. “You okay?”

You nod, fingers back between his curls as you brace yourself. “Yes…yes, I’m…I’m all right. Am I…am I too—”

“No,” he says simply. “No, you’re perfect. Don’t move. M’having so much fun.”

And you don’t doubt that he is. His eyes are closed and he’s feasting on you like he’s been starved his whole life. His entire face is between your folds, licking, sucking, nipping. Wet sounds that are somehow louder than the noise outside. 

You can’t help the way you groan. The way you say his name and shake in his hands. It’s too much and you’re still unsure how to handle so much ecstasy.

But he knows. And he keeps you planted on his tongue until you’ve nearly soaked his entire face. And then…he stops. Seconds before you can find that sweet release and you gasp as he pops off and scoots you back.

“What…what did I do?” you pant.

He laughs while he sits up, cupping your cheek in his palm before pulling you forward for a kiss. “Nothing,” he whispers, and the taste of you on his lips makes your insides twist. “I told you, you’re perfect. I just have something else in mind.”

“Oh.” Your fingers twist together. “Do you…do you want me to…?”

He smiles again then shakes his head. “Not this time, pretty girl. You know I don’t always expect that, right? I don’t eat you out just so you’ll suck me off.”

“I…I know.”

“Good. I eat you out because I fucking love it.” Another kiss. “And not just to get you wet.”

You feel your features scrunch, the urge to hide much stronger. “I know.”

“And I don’t want you to forget. I love watching you take me down your throat, but only when and if you want to. Tonight, I thought we could maybe try something we haven’t yet.”

“Oh…”

His eyes settle on yours. “I want you to ride me.”

Your lips part. “You…oh.”

“We’ve talked about that before, yeah?” He sweeps his thumb across your cheek. “About if you think you’d be comfortable?”

“Yeah, we…yeah. I…I don’t mind. I just…I don’t know…”

“I know,” he murmurs. “But I’ll show you, hm? We can just try it and see how you feel. And if you don’t like it, we can do something else.”

It’s a good plan. A solid plan, and even if you’re unsure, you can’t help but feel excited. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeats happily before scooting back toward the headboard. “All right, can you take me out, angel?”

Eagerly, you agree, crawling after him until your fingers find his jeans. Seeing such a massive dick always tends to surprise you, but you find that you feel more confident now than you did before. He’s beautiful, every inch of him. And he seems to love the way you touch him. The way you look at him, admire him.

And that’s your favorite part.

“Good girl,” he coos as you reach inside his boxers to wrap your palm around him. “Not so shy anymore, hm?”

You shake your head, lip between your teeth as you release him from his pants. 

He laughs. “I can see that. Can you give me your hand, pretty girl?”

You oblige and he pulls your palm to his mouth before he’s spitting directly in the center. A large wad that sits snugly in your hand before he drops it back down to his cock and nods at you to continue.

You drag the wet substance up and down his rather impressive length until he’s glistening. He’s already quite hard, but your delicate strokes seem to get him the rest of the way. Until he’s standing straight up and nearly leaking. 

“Good,” he says again, a tad breathless. “So fucking good at that, you know?”

You smile. “Practice makes perfect.”

“Mhm.” He chuckles. “Then can you show me how good you are at putting me in?”

You nod fervently. The academic overachiever in you is always anxious to prove yourself to him. To show that you’ve learned, you’ve improved. That you’re worthy of his time and his body. 

You use one hand to guide him and the other to keep your panties to the side. He, in turn, makes sure to lift your dress high enough that you can both see and the moment his tip makes contact with your throbbing clit, you whimper.

“Shh,” he murmurs. “You’re all right. Go ahead and tap it a couple times, yeah?”

Forcing your pulse to steady, you do. The heavy appendage seems to taunt you as you pat it against your pussy and the sensitive nerves that make your legs shake. But it feels like heaven and even Harry has to take in a labored breath as he watches.

The two of you rarely use condoms these days. You did when you first started, but after getting tested and being assured that you were the only person he was sleeping with, you decided to try just once without.

And you know the risks. Know it’s rather idiotic to tempt fate the way you do. The pill isn’t a guarantee, and you know neither one of you are ready to be parents.

But after feeling him…feeling all of him…you became addicted. Despite your better judgement, you found yourself eager to feel him again. And again. And again. 

And now, well…now you don’t think you can go without.

“There you go,” he sighs. “Just like that. S’it feel good?”

“Mm…mhm.”

“Good. Go on, baby, put me in now.”

With his help, you lift up and guide his large head toward your hole. Slowly pushing it in while dropping yourself down.

“Fuck,” he exhales through a groan. “Shit, just like that. You okay? S’it hurt?”

You shake your head. You don’t have the strength to speak.

“Okay. Keep going.”

You do. A steady pace that seems to torture you both until the whines and cries slip out before you can stop them. 

“Goddamn, angel,” he grits. “Shit, you feel so fucking good. You still all right? Know what to say if you’re not?”

“Ye—yeah.”

“Attagirl. Okay, baby, I want you to lift up now, yeah? Nice and slow.”

Doing your best not to tremble, you raise back up and feel the way his thick cock seems to stretch you open. The way it travels through your body, making you feel empty without it. 

And once you’re near the tip, he pulls you back down, and you start again. 

The speed is tediously languid. It almost hurts and the noises tumble from your lips one after the other without pause.

Your thighs burn. Your core burns. Every inch of you seems to be screaming, yet Harry doesn’t break a sweat.

“Doing so good,” he praises again. He pulls at your jaw until you kiss him. “Know it’s hard, but you look so good riding my cock right now.”

You only mewl. Loud and incoherent. 

He releases your cheek to reach for something on the nightstand beside him. Something you don’t see through your hazed vision until he begins to unwrap it and bring it to your mouth.

His bandana.

It’s his favorite one, too. The white one, with little back details on it. But you aren’t exactly sure what he expects you to do with it now…until he smirks.

“M’gonna put this in your mouth,” he says before resting it on your lips. “Gotta keep you quiet since I didn’t lock the door. Don’t want anyone to hear you and come lookin’, hm?”

Your eyes widen as you gape at him. “Harry—”

“Sorry. S’just too distracted.” He grins. “Open up, pretty girl.”

Rather excitedly, you obey. Giving him just enough room to slip the fabric between your teeth until you can clamp down and he can fasten it in a knot against the back of your head.

“There you go,” he declares when he’s through. “Now you can be as loud as you want, yeah?”

You nod.

“Mm.” He dips down to start kissing at your chest. “Can you keep going, baby? Or do you need me to take over?”

Your lashes flutter.

“I know,” he coos when he sees the fucked-out expression on your face. “S’hard, isn’t it? My angel’s getting tired, huh?”

Another nod, slower.

“Okay,” he chuckles. He grabs onto your hips and straightens up. “Okay, I’ll fuck you.”

Just like that, he resumes the pace you set. Using every muscle in his thighs and abdomen to fuck his cock up into you and leave you a wilting, blubbering mess.

The poor bandana becomes soaked as he pounds into you. Faster and faster while your body shakes and drool pools at the sides of your mouth. 

Your whimpers sound shuddered now. In tune with his fast thrusts and the wet, lewd cacophony of your bodies connecting. Pornographic in nature yet somehow…euphoric. 

He sucks your tit back into his mouth and you clutch onto his scalp. Nails scratching at his neck, shoulders, and chest until you feel your orgasm coming up on you once more. 

And he feels it, too. Features twisting at the way you clench around him. The way your body draws him in, treats him right. He’s obsessed and he’s told you as much. Even with the level of stamina he possesses, he can never seem to last all that long when it comes to you.

“Fucking hell,” he groans before he’s tightening his hold on your waist. “Shit, s’it feel good? Like being on top, angel?”

You nod and press your forehead to his. Even if it’s rather exhausting, you can feel him in places you couldn’t before. Nudging against your g-spot until you see stars and have to physically fight the urge to cum. 

“No, don’t,” he pants, seeming to sense it. “Want you to cum. Right now, baby. Okay? Let me feel you first.”

Even if you wanted to argue, you can’t. The low, graveled instruction goes straight to your cunt and you cum before you can stop yourself. Drenching his cock, his thighs, your thighs. You sway, go limp in his hold. Until you’re slumping against his chest as he fucks you through every second of it.

“There,” he praises, large hand rubbing up and down your back. “God, you’re fucking good at that. Love the way you cum for me. S’fucking heaven.”

You know he’s close. And you know he won’t finish inside you, instead wasting his offering on his stomach or somewhere else.

So, you get an idea. You pull off him as best you can while he hisses and resists the temptation to release inside you before you slip the bandana back out and crawl down his lap.

Then, you take him in your mouth. It only takes two sucks before he’s grabbing at your neck and finishing down your throat. The warm, sticky substance familiar and far too thrilling. 

He cums and he cums until you’ve nearly sucked him dry and his tired body melts into the bed.

He whispers your name and fights to keep his eyes open so he can gaze at you. Then, he tugs on you. “Come here.”

He kisses you. Tongue and teeth clashing in a messy exchange, but he doesn’t mind. He loves it. Moans into your mouth and pulls you against his heart until you can both catch your breath.

You revel in the post-orgasm glow. Body’s abuzz and slightly sweaty from the workout. But you wouldn’t trade this ache in your joints for anything. 

And you realize you wouldn’t trade him, either. 

“You okay?” he murmurs after a moment.

You hum. “Yeah. M’tired.”

“Yeah,” he echoes with a gentle laugh. “It was fun, though, right?”

“Mhm. Very.”

“Think you’ll wanna do it again?”

“Maybe,” you admit. “As long as you do all the work again.”

His laugh is louder this time. “Deal. Or maybe we’ll just have to work out your muscles until you can do it all on your own.”

“Mm…unlikely.”

“But maybe.”

“Maybe not.”

“Doesn’t hurt to try.”

“Might hurt.”

“Yeah. Okay.” He smiles. “Can you stay tonight?”

“I don’t know. Jess might be looking for me.”

“Tell her you’re staying.”

“I can’t.”

“You don’t have to tell her who you’re with.”

“H,” you sigh. “She thinks I’m a virgin prude. If she knows I’m staying, she won’t let it go until she finds out who I stayed with.”

The room falls silent. You feel him sigh. “Yeah, I know.”

You glance up. “I’ll tell her one of these days, I promise. I just…I wanna keep you to myself. Just a little longer.”

His grin splits his face. “Good. Think I might wanna keep you, too.”

He kisses you again. Soft, slow, sensual. Filled with all the words neither of you are brave enough to say out loud. And long enough to leave you breathless.

Until the door opens.

And Zack walks in.

God I love fratrry 😭💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @floral-recs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @laelamarley @myalovesharry

[strawberryfairi]

“I loved you then…back when I knew you”

Synopsis: 💎 When your old high school best friend, and admittedly, first love randomly shows up at your door one morning after a bit over ten years apart, your memories of him that you once locked away comes flooding back. Are you open to hearing him out after all this time? (In other words…will you take your man back or nah?)

♕Pairings: Kazutora X Black Fem Reader 🛑Content: 18+, Eventual smut, Some grief, Some angst ~Crossposted On: Wattpad ONLY ~Updating WEEKLY

w.c 3.6k💠

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CHAPTER 2: HANEMIYA-SAN

Thankfully, your mom hadn't caught you looking a hot mess with your shirt buttons all ripped off last night as you came home. You just knew she'd lose her mind if she found out what happened, and you didn't feel like stressing her out with that story.

Today was fairly warm, around 20 degrees (68 in Fahrenheit), usual for this time of year. It was almost Autumn, the weather starting to act like it too.

You had texted your group chat last night, telling Asuka and Yumi a bit about what happened last night. They both stated how they wanted a more in-depth version of the story today at school, so that's what you were doing now as you all walked together.

"That's so terrifying! I'm so glad you're ok, oh my gosh." Asuka said, wrapping her arms around you from the side for a hug. Yumi quickly followed suit from the right of you, nuzzling her cheek on your upper arm.

"Thanks guys, I was so scared. If it weren't for that boy who came to help, I might not have shown up today, or any other day to be honest." You sigh, a somber tone in your voice.

"Speaking of that boy...give us the details!" Asuka chimes in.

"Yeah! He really came in and just beat him up?!" Yumi added.

"Yeah, he sure did! It was actually kinda scary. I was worried he was gonna break his bones or something." You admit.

"Woooow! You gotta admit that's so hot though, 'cause that means he's super strong! A high school boy beating up a college guy?! Woooow." Yumi swooned, placing her hands over her chest like a Disney princess. You deadpan playfully, deep down knowing this would come up.

"I'm gonna be honest, it's kind of giving...he might be a gang boy." Asuka said smugly, nudging your arm.

"What do you mean? Just 'cause he beat his ass doesn't mean he's in a gang-

"Ahhhh! Don't be so naive! Think about it, a high schooler beating the ever-loving crap out of a college aged man?! That just screams delinquency!" She shot back rather animatedly.

"Delinquency is crazy." You chuckle, amused that she used that word.

"The real question is...was he hot?" Yumi smirked nudging your arm playfully.

You feel your cheeks heat up a bit, recalling the way you felt so self-conscious of how you looked while with him, and how you caught yourself stealing looks his way more than a few times on the way to your home.

"Ooooo! The hesitation says it all!" Yumi practically hollered.

"I-I mean, you know, he wasn't...ugly." You stuttered out, trying to downplay how you felt about his looks.

"Right right." Asuka rolled her eyes playfully. "Just admit it, you think he's super hot, don't you?" She pressed, a devious smirk on her face.

"Ok well, sure, he was-...he was fine as hell." You finally swoon by the end of your confession, looking at the girls with hearts in your eyes. You all squeal, smacking each others arms before trying to settle down, catching the attention of passerby's.

"Shhh! Alright Aright! He could be anywhere y'all." You giggle.

"Oh my gosh! What if we see him today?!" Yumi murmured excitedly, her voice high in pitch as she tried not to squeal again.

"Honestly, if he was here I'd literally run home-

"Oh don't start that! You look so good today as usual. You did your hair all cute, your uniform skirt makes your butt look nice and jiggly, and your lipgloss is to die for! If he saw you he'd probably like..get hard or something." She shrugs nonchalantly.

"Yumi!" You smacked her arm, feeling your face heat up all over again.

"Whaaaat?! It's true!"

As we reached the main entrance of the school, there seemed to be a little bit of commotion as soon as we got inside. People were murmuring and chatting all over.

"What's going on?" Asuka asked some girls by the front who were quietly squealing amongst each other. You recognized two of the three girls in the group, Miyazaki-chan and Hayashi-chan, two girls in your grade. Both you and Yumi caught up to Asuka, joining in on the conversation.

"Are you kidding me, you haven't heard?! There's a super hot third year that just showed up today, and like all the girls are going crazy about him." Miyazaki-chan explains excitedly, gesturing with her thumb further down the hall.

"Really?" You scrunch your face up in confusion. It's literally all these girls around the halls acting like Michael Jackson just pulled up from the grave or something, and it's all just about some third year boy?

"Yeah! Hanako-chan saw him too!" Hayashi-chan says.

The other girl in the group, Hanako-chan nodded her head frantically. "I've only ever seen him once before now. He came into school just a few minutes ago! You should've seen 'em." She swooned, falling over onto Miyazaki-chan who laughed in response. Yumi nudged you discreetly, gaining your attention. "What if it's him?" She whispered towards your ear, an excited tone in her voice just like the other girls. That question made your heart flutter as a distinct realization hit you. Last night Kazutora had said he was a third year too, didn't he? He mentioned he goes to this school also.

"Wait wait, guys. Do you know his name?" You butted in, cutting off whatever Hayashi-chan was saying. They all looked towards each other, grinning like maniacs.

"Hanemiya-san." They sighed at the same time.

"Hanemiya?" You mutter back, disappointment dripping admittedly heavily from your voice. It must not be the same guy from last night. Still, you were curious about Hanemiya-san seeing as he had so many girls shook. He might as well be a school-wide celebrity.

💎

As the day went by, your patience had started to run thin. It seemed no matter where you were you would always just miss him. Other girls and friends would tell you "girl, are you serious?! He just walked by to his next class; how could you miss him?!". Like damn, you didn't know what he looked like, how were you supposed to know? But the curiosity was starting to ache, you wanted to see him, and figure out what all the hype was about. He better be fine as hell too since all day girls have been going absolutely crazy. You've even heard some guys whispering rumors and whatnot about him too.

Now it's lunch time, and you were determined to lay your eyes on him during this fifty minute period. You sat with Asuka, Yumi and the other girls from this morning at a table near the cafeteria window, all determined for you to see him as everyone else has today except for you.

"This is actually ridiculous, y'all. How'd every girl in the whole school see him except me?! Like, damn!" You groan dramatically.

"Maybe you need a new prescription?" Yumi joked. You pursed your lips in response. "Whatever, I'm gonna get somethin' to drink from the vending machine, y'all want somethin'?" You asked, standing from your seat at the table.

"Ehh, I'm good."

"No, it's fine."

"I already got something."

None of the girls wanted anything so it was just you. You wanted to make it quick so your lunch didn't get cold or, better yet, didn't miss Hanemiya-san somewhere in the caf.

Practically speed walking you finally reach the nearest vending machine, getting yourself your favorite strawberry ramunè. Thankfully, the drink came out without any technical issues, which tends to happen pretty often. You were just about to head on back until the sound of boisterous laughter resounded from one of the classrooms. You furrowed your brows, for some reason becoming nosy, something you never usually were.

"Ha! You're an idiot! You don't know shit about girls."

You peeked from the door, trying to stay well hidden.

"I know about girls! You've never even had a girlfriend!"

"I don't need one to know what they like, bumbass."

Your mouth almost hit the floor, a tiny gasp escaping you as you saw who all was in here. You know those situations where everyone in the group of guys was fine? Yeah no, this was not that. More like one third of the group was gorgeous, and it happened to be Kazutora, that same boy from last night sitting there with a cute wide smile just watching his two friends bicker. He had on the school uniform, obviously, but kinda swagged it out to match with his aesthetic. That same Christmas-looking bell earring was in his left ear, and that tiger tattoo sat loud and proud on his neck in complete view thanks to the style of the uniform.

They each were sitting down, one on the desk, and the other two in chairs pulled out in a triangle formation. Kazutora sat facing the back of the chair, his elbows resting on the desk behind him comfortably.

You were staring, practically drooling, for a good while before he seemed to notice your presence, his eyes glancing over towards you at the door abruptly. You jumped back, placing your free hand on your chest as your eyes widened.

"What? Someone there?" One of his friends asked. That was all it took for you to snap out of your shock, quickly booking it down the hallway and back to the caf.

The girls all noticed you as you walked over to the table. "Girl, you good? You look a little....outta breath." Asuka raised a brow, trying not to laugh. "Ha..." Was all you managed to get out as you sat down back in your chair, looking dazed. "Oooo guys, I think she might've finally seen Hanemiya-san." Miyazaki-chan chuckled, her tone purely mischievous. The girls all looked towards you with wide eyes for confirmation.

"I don't know 'bout no Hanemiya-san, but I did see that boy from last night." You said with a dramatic swoon in your voice.

"Waaaaait! Who?!" Miyazaki-chan's eyes widened. The other girls also had their own expressions of bewilderment as they waited for an explanation.

"This super hot, knight in shining armor ass guy from our school saved her from almost getting raped last night." Yumi explained with a prideful grin, nodding her head.

"Really?! Oh my gosh!" They all gasped at about the same time.

"Mhmm, it was a college guy that he beat up, too!" She added, her grin at this point was giving the grinch. The girls all gasped.

"A guy at our school beat up a college student?! He's gotta be one of the gang boys." Hanako-chan said.

Suddenly, Hayashi-chan out-bursted, slamming her hands on the table, gasping hard while coming to some sort of realization about something. "Oh.my.gosh! Guys, what if that guy that saved her last night was Hanemiya-san?!" She inquired, looking absolutely shook at her own theory. You watched in amusement as all the girls pondered over the idea, then excitedly come to an agreement with it.

"It's not Hanemiya-san, guys. He told me his name last night and it ain't that." You waved them off, chuckling to yourself as you shook your head. "Besides, I saw him just now, that's why I was lookin' so shook."

"Wait, you saw him?! The guy from last night?! What'd he look like?!" Hanako-chan fired questions left and right.

"Uhhh, well he's gotta earring, and pretty light brown eyes, and uhh he has dark hair with blonde highlights...and...." You trailed off watching as everyone's faces slowly turned shocked.

"One last thing", Miyazaki-chan started, her tone purely serious, "Did he have a tiger tattoo..on his neck?" She pointed to her own neck.

Now it was your turn to make a face. You all looked shook as you slowly nodded your head.

"That's..literally Hanemiya-san." Yumi murmured. You lowkey felt a deep sense of womanly pride that the hottest guy in the whole school ended up helping you out last night and even did you the favor of walking you home safely.

A silence fell over all of you, until finally bursting out into loud, high pitched squeals of excitement.

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmy-

"Girl, I'm literally so jealous, I can't even-

"AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH"

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE"

"The hottest guy in school freakin' saved you, I-aeaferhahuehuahuahuehuaheuahuheua"

"Wait guys!" Hayashi-chan cut in abruptly, her face going from excited to mortified. None of y'all heard her though, you just continued squealing and smacking each other stupidly. Then, it seemed Hanako-chan, and Miyazaki-chan both caught on to whatever she was getting so serious about.

"Guys! I'm telling you-

"HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHE"

"I can't believe it's been the same person this whole time!"

"I know right! AAAAAAAAH-

"GUYS!" Hayashi-chan finally snapped, instantly getting us to quiet down. We all looked at her with expressions that read "Why are you killin' the vibe?". Suddenly, you noticed a shadow coming closer from behind you. Yumi, Asuka, and you all turned around at the same time.

"Hey there."

It was like you sat right in front of a fireplace your face was so hot. Kazutora had actually come to the cafeteria, come to you! Did he see y'all acting up like that the whole time? Hopefully he at least didn't hear anything. Did you look alright?!

"H-hi." You inwardly scolded yourself for stuttering, but he was so intimidating it made it hard not to act shy.

"Didn't think you'd see me this soon, huh?" He grinned, tilting his head to the side which made his earring jingle.

"Mm mm." You shook your head, feeling your heart race with nervous excitement. The girls were dead silent, all just watching intently at the scene unfolding directly in front of them. Speaking of a scene, it seemed nearly everyone in the whole cafeteria was watching.

"So, you doin' anything after school?"

The girls gasped out loud at his question. You could tell they were using every fiber of their being not to squeal.

"Uhh no. Just goin' home, why?" You asked cooly, doing your best to keep your own composure.

"Mind if I walk you home?" The way he said it came across more like he was telling you he's walking you home rather than asking. You shake your head, letting out a soft, "I don't mind". He gave you a charming smile that made your heart flutter.

"Cool, I'll see you later then."

You nodded, only able to let out a little "K" in response.

All of you watched Kazutora meet back up with his two other friends, then head back out of the cafeteria, hands in his pockets the whole time. "Wow, what a way to make a statement." Yumi smirked, nudging your arm suggestively.

"What do you mean? I didn't make a statement." You turn towards her with your brows furrowed.

"No, not you, Hanemiya-san! He literally asked what you were doing later, then actually tells you he wants to walk you home?! If that's not a statement, I don't know what is!"

"Yeah, not gonna lie, Yumi-chan's right." Miyazaki nodded.

"He's practically claimed you!" Hanako-chan added excitedly.

"What? Girl, he did not claim me." You chuckle lightly.

"Yes.he.did. Just you wait, once you're out of the denial phase you'll see it." She clapped back, fully serious.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kazutora couldn't believe how utterly boring this day was. The most interesting part was finally being able to find you after catching that small glimpse of you peeking into the classroom, which he thought was so cute. He sat in history class, staring blankly into nothing as he thought about you. He noticed you'd done a different style with your hair, it was pretty elaborate in his opinion. Two buns with two small braids coming down from the crown area and into your face from the front, hanging way past your chin. The buns were big and puffy, looking like little clouds or something. It was a wonder how he wasn't able to find you first seeing as you so easily stand out.

Once school was finally over, he made his way to the entrance, waiting for you patiently. For some reason, Kazutora couldn't really get you out of his head last night or even today. You were cute that's for sure, but there was something else about you that made him want to be around you more.

"Oh, he's here guys. I'll see y'all later, K?"

The sound of your voice caught his attention. He looked up, eyes landing on you instantly. You were smiling wide, giving each friend a hug goodbye. He thought that was pretty adorable, it's not usual girls hug goodbye but you went and hugged each individual friend. Must be a culture thing. He thought to himself. He watched with a grin as you walked up to him, your once big bold smile turning shy instantaneously.

"Ready to go?" He smiled softly.

"Mhm."

The both of you walked side by side, catching multiple nosy eyes as you left the campus together. "So, how was classes?" You asked, trying to spark a conversation. For some reason it was hard for you to talk to him, the nervousness way too much for you to stay levelheaded.

"Boring, honestly, but I didn't mind science." He shrugged.

"Really?! You like science?" You said, eyes wide in surprise.

"I don't know about if I like science, but it got pretty interesting."

You nod, thinking about how your own science class went today. "I don't really like science much; it's alright. History is my favorite of the regular classes, I think, but music will always be my favorite subject."

"Music? What's so great about music class?" Kazutora scrunched his nose in confusion.

"Well everything. I have a keyboard at home that I practice on so...naturally it's my favorite." You shrug plainly.

"What, you wanna be a pianist or something?" He raised a brow.

"Yes, but I also sing. The teacher let's me do both, so I'm pretty cool with him. He also let's me play the piano sometimes after school or during lunch when I feel like it, so that's always nice. But music class also has lots..."

There you go again, rambling on and on about something you really like. Kazutora couldn't help the light tug at the corner of his lips, pulling into a grin as you continued. Even though he barely knew you for twenty four hours, he missed the way you'd ramble. It wasn't often or normal he'd hang around any girls anyways, so he wasn't complaining.

The whole walk consisted of the two of you getting to know each other, keeping conversations going with questions. At some point you had lightened up completely, letting go of that usual shy demeanor.

"Ok ok, would you rather...be a worm or a snail?"

"Ew", you giggled at his rather boyish question, "I don't know maybe a snail 'cause I'd have a little shell-house as opposed to being completely naked." You finished, giggling at the reasoning. "Ok, my turn. Would you rather...be hella short but gorgeous, or super tall but ugly?"

"Mmm. Well if I'm tall and ugly, but have a good personality, I could make it work. But nobody really sees a full personality from across the room. Ehh, I'll go with short but gorgeous."

"Come on short king!" You laughed.

"Would you rather...have huge feet or have huge hands?" He grinned mischievously.

"Eugh, both are trash options! I'll go with feet I guess...summer would be ass though, just trynna wear my flip flops in peace."

Kazutora laughed, making you laugh along with him naturally. "Ok wait, here's a question; not a would you rather one though. But what's your favorite season?" You inquire curiously.

Kazutora looked down at you, taking in the way you have such innocent looking eyes. "Probably this time of year, Autumn. It's way less intense than summer and winter, and spring just gets everybody sick."

"Right! Spring is cute, but honestly, it's treacherous with the allergies! My favorite is summer though, not gonna lie. I hate winter, it's way too cold for me." You visibly shudder, shaking your head.

"But winter let's you cuddle and stuff. I thought girls liked that kind of thing." He chuckled.

"I mean you can cuddle any time of year, but I see how winter probably makes you think of that the most. Think of it this way, I like the aesthetic or concept of winter, but not the weather. Give me the holidays, the cute seasonal drinks and all that, but leave that freezin' ass weather on the shelf." You laughed.

"I get that. Yeah, winter can get a little too cold for me too. I think fall is the perfect in between; and my outfits always look best this time of year anyways."

It seemed like a two minute walk as opposed to twenty as you both finally made it to your place. You frowned discreetly, a little disappointed that you're little hang out session with Kazutora would end just as it was getting good.

"Thanks for taking me home." You said softly, feeling the shyness starting to creep back up again. "You're welcome. I'll see you tomorrow, ok?" He said, his voice a bit softer now.

"K!" You smile, giving him a wave as you happily made your way into your apartment building.

[bakingtherapy]

Breakfast with Cordelia #23 Chocolate Macarons

Sul Sul, Gerbits. You know sometimes you have to laugh at the mistakes you make. And this one was one of those recipes. 

We are going to be making chocolate macarons. 

The recipe will be in the description down below. 

I would normally say that you have to preheat your oven first. But, that is not the case with this recipe because you do not need the oven preheating an hour before they are ready to go into the oven. It may change the consistency of the macarons.

You are going to line two baking sheets with parchment paper or silicone baking mats if you have them. I used parchment paper. 

There are a bunch of free macaron templates online. I have printed 1 ½ inch circles spaced out a couple of inches apart on the parchment paper. This is going to help you guide the macaron shells later. 

The recipe and the measurements will be in the description down below.

After you have the parchment paper on your mats begin to make your macarons. The first thing you want to do is sift the almond flour, powdered sugar, and cocoa powder in a sifter, or a food processor, and then sift it. 

You can sift it multiple times to make sure that the ingredients are completely mixed and light, and then set it aside until you need it.

The next thing you want to do is beat the egg whites on medium speed until they are foamy, which takes about 1 minute. Gradually add the granulated sugar, about 1 tablespoon. Not 1 teaspoon at a time, because that takes a very long time. 

Waiting 20 seconds or so between each addition of sugar.

Once you have all the sugar added, continue to beat the egg whites on medium to medium-high speed until stiff peaks form. It will probably take about 4 minutes. There is a scary way to tell if your egg whites are stiff. And that is if you can place the bowl above your head without anything falling out, they are stiff. 

Slowly add the dry ingredients a third at a time to the egg whites. You are going to slowly fold the ingredients together. Most recipes for macarons call this macaronage. 

You are going to need a rubber scraper or spatula for this part. To fold, scrape the sides of the bowl, in a j -shaped motion. 

You want to keep count on how many times you are folding the batter. Most recipes say that you should not have folded it more than 80 - 100 times. It depends on the factors that are present in your kitchen that day. Humidity, the temperature outside, and the temperature in your kitchen can all affect the quality of the macarons. 

You are going to fold another third into the macaronage and count to twenty. 

Do this one more time, adding the last third into the bowl. You want to count twenty folds. This will mean that you have counted sixty times. Once all of the dry ingredients are in the egg whites, you are going to fold until you can make 1 or 2 figure-eight patterns with the ribbon of the batter. 

This mixture should look and feel like coarse sand. 

At this point, you are going to transfer the batter to a pastry bag with a large rounded tip or a ziplock bag with one corner cut off. 

Begin to pipe the macarons into 1 ½ inch circles on your prepared parchment or silicone lined baking sheets. Making sure to space them out a couple of inches apart.

When the cookie sheet is filled, lightly tap them on the counter a few times to remove air bubbles. 

This is the most important part, make sure to let them sit out for 30-60 minutes. Once they are ready, the tops are dry to the touch and they don’t stick to your finger. 

You are going to preheat the oven to 300 degrees Fahrenheit. Bake one cookie sheet at a time, for 16 to 18 minutes. 

Let them cool completely before removing the shells from the parchment paper. 

For the filling for these cookies, I used ⅔ cups of powdered cocoa. And heavy cream. 

Filling the cookies gets messy. But fun.

The recipe itself was really easy to follow. If I had followed it to the T like I was supposed to. I am sometimes impatient when it comes to waiting for food. So, I didn’t let the macarons sit for that long, and they did not grow the legs that they are known for. I served them to my family and one of my little ones said “Mommy, you’re making us poop?” As she asked that though, she ate it and said “this poop tastes yummy.” That was funny.

Sometimes, recipes don’t turn out well. But sometimes, the only factor that should matter is the taste. I hope you liked this recipe, make sure to like and subscribe for more recipes like this one in the future. Vadish, Dag Dag. 

Show the original author some 💖💖💖 Rosanna Pansino

Printable version of this recipe: on the blog

Feel free to support me on:

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[rearranging-deck-chairs]

i know i was being a little reactive and passive agressive the other day when i was like it's more interesting when the doctor isnt autistic and im sorry about that i was being a bit of a jerk but with the distance of a few days and the soundness of mind that the mires of ficwriting and sleep deprivation will bring you i still stand behind that in kind of in the same way as what i said the other day about nonbinary

because to me being nonbinary feels sorta similar to being self-undiagnosed. like, if i say im not a boy OR a girl, what then? what does that call into question about the world you believe in? if i rock and tic and dont make eye contact, if i miss every third conversational cue im given and my modus operandi in social situations is to stand against the wall and observe, if im a disaster at crossing the road bc traffic is too complex for me, if i have all-encompassing interests that dont allow me to think about anything but it for months on end, and i say im NOT autistic, what then? what does that call into question about the world you believe in?

and like obviously the easy answer is to say im in denial, or being obstinate. you can say that. same way you can say theres only two genders and im a girl bc the doctor (the not-fun kind) said so.

and the maybe slightly more difficult answer is that any diagnosis is as much of a concept that was made at some point as any gender. someone decided to draw some lines and punt some people to one side of it and others to the other

i was wondering the other day when people who use fahrenheit start saying "it's freezing" if theyre speaking literally and not just mean it's very cold. because over here we're like "it freezes" once the temperature drops below 0. so i was wondering, for fahrenheiters does it start freezing at 0 too? do you have to wait until it's -18 celsius before you say it's freezing? but i asked @explaingravity and they said no it's from 32 degrees. when water freezes. "it freezes" when water freezes. makes sense right? that makes sense. but to me "freezing" meant 0. thats the freezing number. 0=freezing. but thats not true! thats JUST water. thats just water in like regular earthy conditions when you dont even put salt in it. other things freeze at different points. we just calibrated on water. and fahrenheit calibrated on... hang on a sec

0 °F, was established as the freezing temperature of a solution of brine made from a mixture of water, ice, and ammonium chloride (a salt)

brine, i guess? brine on one side, the human body on the other side. and like, both are similarly arbitrary right? to me 0 is the freezing number and to my american friends 32 is the freezing number, but neither is the freezing number, there IS no freezing number. you could say 0 is a boy and 32 is a girl

at what point does someone Become an assignation. when does it go from like a sticker on the skin, to something in their bones. when they choose it? when the doctor starts telling people "im the doctor"?

what does it mean to have the traits that people round up and put under a certain label, but claim you are not that thing? is that even possible? is the only way out of being that thing to redefine it? or just to move somewhere where it's defined differently? where the scale is calibrated differently?

i think doctor who, with its empire that is both great britain and alien, can be a nice way to examine and deconstruct concepts in our lives that we (in great britain or other places that share their concepts) take for granted. take as like, the divine right of kings, you know? i also think doctor who most of the time fails at this. regularly fails so hard it just reinforces its great british concepts. i think doctor who would be better if it dug deeper and if the doctor was not such a conservative (as in, inclined to preserve existing conditions)

and doctor who will still fail, and i hope one day that it will start living up to what i wish it was, but i also know this is a kind of big show and you have to limit the risks you take with it (see also my post about how i get they cant change the shape of the tardis but how i wish it would happen after 13 anyway) (you cant actually see that post, i have no idea where it went, it is definitely Somewhere but im never gonna find it again) (search terms are tardis + fire truck + iris wildthyme i'd guess)

but like, that doesnt stop me from still wanting to try and look at these deconstructions myself in fan stuff. im not super good at it bc i havent read a lot of books and dont really understand a lot of things yet but like. we can try?

i get 13 failed catastrophically at stopping being a cop and questioning the systems she was shown to be part of and victim of and complicit in, but like, we can still try to do that cant we? we can still try to question the things of our world we take for granted and try to kill the cop in our head?

tldr: i think not ascribing queerness and diagnosis to the doctor opens way more doors for interesting stuff than doing it. we can stretch our brains. try to come up with paradigms to see the world way differently than how we're taught to see it. theres way more potential there. same way theres way more potential in doctor who

shorter tldr: looms

[jennawynn]

Enterprise Season 3 Ep 19-finale

Episode 19

All that damage and hull breaches on at least 3 levels... and only 5 people are dead.

I feel like a lot of my opinions of this show are formed by my experience on a Navy ship. Almost every door can be sealed in case there's a hull breach. Redundant systems and personnel. And if your ship goes down in the ocean at least you might float a while before drowning but in SPACE? You'd think they'd be a lot more conservative about safety against hull breaches.

Oooh... now the number is 14 with 3 unaccounted for. Out of what, 84?

They said beam lol

This is a pretty understandable and even believable descent to the other side for Archer. T'Pol having secret troubles staying calm is interesting, too.

Really? Making T'Pol turn herself into a drug addict so she can push Trip's buttons? Why does she keep ending up getting the worst kind of plotlines?

I don't know why it didn't occur to me- I thought the training exercises were just so Malcolm could have beef with the Major... but turns out it's so they could justify still sending SENIOR BRIDGE OFFICERS INTO DIRECT COMBAT IN SMALL TEAMS INSTEAD OF THE MARINES THEY HAVE ON BOARD FOR EXACTLY THAT SITUATION.

Episode 20

Now we're up to 18 lost. How does the number keep going up? "For the 18" has a bit of a better ring to it than "For the 14" I guess.

They found two bodies in a damaged section... but somehow they didn't get blown out the holes with the atmosphere.

Why hasn't T'Pol washed her face? 😂

Fun Fact: The only time that I "had" to eat MREs was after a hurricane while my ship was in drydock. We didn't have shore power and I was on duty so they had some hot dogs on a grill and MREs for anyone who wanted them. We ate in our office by flashlight so it'd feel like camping. 😂 That said, I was - at the time - on a prepper/libertarian kick with my colleagues and we had some 'just in case' and tried them at least once. Surprisingly expensive from places like the Army/Navy Surplus Store, but not terrible. Plus the tech behind heating them was novel.

Goddammit Trip... at least take the flightsuit off before you get in bed. Gross. This isn't a cartoon where it's too much to design a second outfit and animate you under the covers so you leave your boots on in bed. We know you have your standard-issue blue underwear.

It is a nice touch that they automatically use Celsius when referencing temperature. They say things like 'his suit temperature is 44 degrees' without saying Celsius, but you know it can't be Fahrenheit.

And wasting resources by just letting the panel cover float away instead of saving it so they can be like 'look they're in zero g!'

"As Jane's Commanding Officer"- That is not correct. Commanding Officer is a specific title given to the highest ranking person of the base or vessel. Archer is the Commanding Officer. Just because Trip was her boss does not make him her CO.

Episode 21

I have to admit... it's growing on me. I found myself last night almost deciding to keep watching even though I was no longer working.

Women only make up 1/3 of the crew? Why? In the illuminated future, we're still only 1/3??

Part of me thinks that they shouldn't know who they marry or have kids with but the other part of me remembers that I wish I could go back in time and tell myself I'm queer and shouldn't marry the guy I did. /shrug

Of course they'll probably erase this 'past-future' with whatever's about to happen anyway.

The convo between T'Pol acknowledges that it's not 'destiny' but a product of environment. That because the Enterprise wasn't sent back in time, the choices made can be different... but there's obviously going to be a bias for most people, reaching out to the people they know they had kids with before.

Episode 22

Ah American, sorry I mean HUMAN Exceptionalism at its finest. The existence of Earth changes the trajectory of history across the whole universe! Across dimensions, even!

ha disposable MAKO. why would he have climbed up to such a precarious position to fire anyway, though?

Episode 23

For one moment, just one moment I thought maybe the major taking a shot to the heart in transport would caus-- oh shit they did actually kill a crewmember who has been in multiple episodes. They might have actually turned this ship around.

To be clear, I don't condone deaths for shock value. However, thematic deaths are another thing. Plot important deaths. You can't have a war with dark themes and never kill anyone. It doesn't make sense.

Hayes says use McKenzie with his dying breath... and then he picks 3 volunteers that are not named that.

The moment where Reed asks for volunteers and all the MAKOs step forward was a nice touch, though, even if the actors couldn't figure out how to stand :joy:

Episode 24

I think it would be nice if just once the sliding scale of ally to enemy wasn't always just who looks most or least like you. That the arboreal and primate species are most human-like while the aquatic, lizard, and insects are not. I kinda hope that the humanoid lizard people are kept as the enemy and the manatee and insect like less human people stay allies. At least the lizards are recognizably human shaped.

Here we go! Finale time.

Personally, I'm not a fan of the Great Man theory which Enterprise seems to consider correct. Great Man theory, as I understand it and use it here, basically says that some people are born to change things. That they are 'integral to history'- that the names we grow up learning like Newton or Washington or Einstein or even Hitler are Special in some way and that they are responsible for the leaps and bounds we take in discovery and such. That if you time traveled back and killed one of them, say Hitler, then it would change everything about the future. Stop the Holocaust and WW2.

They've repeatedly said that without Archer at the helm, the Federation would never exist. That the Guardians will succeed and wipe out everything. Whatever it is now to try to give him a safety belt when he's so damn set on throwing himself out the window of a moving starship.

I don't agree. I think that discovery is built on waves. That if Newton hadn't put pen to paper and 'discovered' the theory of gravity, someone else would have with negligible difference in time. _Especially_ when it comes to things like science because science is built on collaboration and you build off other people's work constantly.

Maybe Archer did do all these things, but had Archer not been selected for the NX-1, the other guy would've done it. And if not them, maybe the Vulcans. Sure the details might change, but this, I think, is what time travel media refers to as the resilience of the timeline. There might be disruptions, but it typically course corrects.

Gotta love Archer's dramatic... casual jog away from the explosions.

Hah. I kinda love the reveal of T'Pol's age. She's been so coy about it.

"Captain didn't make it." Yeah... I'm not gonna believe that until at least the middle of the next episode.

lmao time travel shenanigans. As soon as they said no word from the orbital stations, I assumed it wasn't a matter of where but when. Oh and look... Archer's alive. Surprise. But he was found by the Nazi's? Who have an alien officer? Sure. Turn their famous obsession with the occult towards aliens instead of supernatural.

[uniquejellyfishqueen]

TTPD pop up at The Grove in LA was Tuesday 4/16/24 through Thursday 4/18/24.

4/18/24 - 12/6/24 is 7 months and 19 days…

The #119 show was Gelsenkirchen N3/3 on 7/19/24 and the surprise songs were

G: Lover track 8 “Paper Rings”// Red track 9 “Stay Stay Stay”

P: Evermore track 17 “It’s Time To Go”// Red track 22 “Better Man”

Take the 1st letter from each of those titles and their corresponding number:

P-16

S-19

I-9

B-2

You get a date: 2/9/1916

The British gunboats HMS Mimi and HMS Toutou sank the German steamship Hedwig von Wissmann in Lake Tanganyika, Central Africa

Britain's military service act enforced

American baseball player Tex Hughson was born in Buda, Texas. He played pitcher for the Boston Red Sox from 1941 to 1949

The National League celebrated its 40th anniversary with a banquet at the Waldorf-Astoria. NL votes down a proposal by Giants, Braves, & Cubs to increase club player limit from 21 to 22 (The Reds want to decrease to 20)

The desk calendar at the TTPD pop up had Friday 13 December.

This chick has been doing everything out of order and everything backwards. I don’t think this means Friday December 13. I think this means the 1st and 3rd Friday in December.

The 1st and 3rd Friday’s are also bookends of her birthday as well.

Also the 1st and 3rd Friday’s would be a fortnight apart.

1st Friday: 12/6/24 - #147 of the ET N1/3 Vancouver (the last city).

The surprise songs were

G: Speak Now track 12 Haunted// 1989 track 14 Wonderland

P: Speak Now track 8 Never Grow Up// Fearless track 12 The Best Day

12/14 is the day after her 35th birthday

8/12 is a mirror of the last ET show 12/8.

12/14 is 6 days from 12/8.

2nd Friday: 12/13/24 - 35th birthday

**release of the TS archives behind the scenes. 7 different “Taylor’s version” fonts…. Is she gonna re release Lover as well? Taylor Swift, Reputation, Lover

167 TRL… is she bringing TRL back?!

1/6/2007:

An overnight storm knocked out power to thousands in the Vancouver and Victoria area. The storm also uprooted trees in Stanley Park, and filled BC Place with water after the roof tore open a day earlier

The Sunday Times (UK) reports that Israel has drawn up plans to possibly destroy Iran's uranium enrichment facilities with tactical nuclear weapons in the event that U.S. intervention does not occur, and non-nuclear strikes are ruled out. Iran has responded saying that "anyone who attacks will regret their actions very quickly." Israel denies such plans were made.

A second bus bomb in Sri Lanka, this time near the tourist resort of Hikkaduwa has killed at least 15 and injured dozens more. The Sri Lankan government declared the Tamil Tigers responsible, but the rebel group is denying involvement

At least 40 people have died in a bus crash in Comilla, Bangladesh

Nine bound and gagged bodies are found in grave in Uruapan, Michoacan state, Mexico. Drug gangs are suspected

The British Army raises its maximum recruitment age from 26 years to 33, but denies that this is a reaction to a failure to recruit sufficient young people. The normal term of engagement remains 22 years, meaning that some soldiers could still be serving to age 55.

Jeff Bezos Amazon founder and billionaire has joined the "budget space race" with a test burn of the Blue Origin passenger rocket, the New Shepard

The eastern United States enjoyed record high temperatures, including 72 degrees Fahrenheit (22 Celsius) in New York City

3rd Friday: 12/20/24

12/13/1989 - 12/13/2024 is 12,785 days

7+8+5‎ = 20

12/20?

“In 50 years will all this be declassified?” 50 years ago was 1974 which was 15 years before 1989. (783 weeks before her birth)

So on 12/20/1974…

The Godfather part ll released

George Harrison releases his fifth studio album in the UK “Dark Horse”

Die [Daisuke Andou], Japanese heavy metal rock guitarist (Dir En Grey), born in Mie, Japan

André Jolivet, French composer (Jeune France, Mana), dies at 69

… 126 days prior to 12/20/1974 was 8/9/1974 when Nixon gave his resignation letter.

126 12/6 was N1/3 in Vancouver.

89 is the year she was born.

[dangerousstrawberryshark]

Yandere Izuku Midoriya x Villain Male Reader

I would like to clarify something, I never watched “My Hero Academia,” so don’t know much about this show. 

Warning: Violence, slight mention of bullying. 

Requested from Pokadeathpony

Background: Midoriya is doing the normal thing patrolling the city when he finds this beautiful villain male and falls for him. Midoriya decides after already killing an investigator on M/N to join and be the best killing couple.

M/N: Male Name

V/N: Villain Name

E/C: Eye color

S/C: Skin color

H/C: Hair color

sorry if this is bad!!

———————————————————————————————————

Midoriya was patrolling the city at night when he noticed something happening in an alleyway. he saw a guy attacking someone else! As he got closer, he noticed the features of the assailant. (You’re a murder by the way.)

He had soft, fluffy H/C hair, a nice S/C tone that radiants from the gray and dark colors, and couldn’t see his E/C, but it must be beautiful like the rest of him. Midoriya blushed at his features. He had never felt this towards anyone. This is a new feeling to him. 

He was stared for too long because M/n saw him and ran away. I wanted to stop him and bring him to justice but something in me told me to just let him go. ‘Well, I guess I won’t see him again.’ I sighed to myself as I walked away from the scene. 

(Why didn’t you cover yourself in black clothing so you couldn’t be seen? Because of plot purposes.)

Flash forward to morning (By the way it’s summer break in this story. Again I have never seen the show, so don’t judge me.)

Midoriya’s sleep was disturbed by his alarm clock. “Ugh!” Midoriya groans as he smashed his clock. ‘Well, I’ll have to get a new one,’ Midoriya said to himself saying that this wasn’t the first time he has done it. Midoriya just laid there for the next 10 minutes before getting up. 

‘What day is it today?’ Midoriya got up and checked the calendar, seeing that it was Spring Break. ‘Yes, It’s spring break!’ Midoriya went to the kitchen to make some breakfast and watch TV. Midoriya made a traditional breakfast that consists of steamed rice, miso soup, protein such as grilled fish, and various side dishes. 

After making his breakfast he sat down and watched TV. nothing was really so he went on the News Channel. “Good morning everyone, it’s a wonderful day here in Musutafu I’m Himari Yamamoto, and now for the weather with Sakura Kobayashi.” (Random name I created.) it then flashed over to the Weather woman. 

“Thank you, Himari Suzuki. So today, we have warm winds coming in from the south and today’s temperature is 18 °C (64 degrees Fahrenheit) now back to you, Himari.” she was done giving the weather. 

“Thank you, Sakura, now onto breaking news. A dead body was found in an alleyway near (insert random restaurant name) last night at 10 something PM.” 

(Does this sound like a good news broadcast?)

when the news lady said that Midoriya had a flashback to last night, he remembers seeing the cute murder. ‘Wait cute?!’ Midoriya was getting all confused about this. He was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the news say, “An investigator is currently trying to bring this murderer to justice.” 

‘An investigator?!’ something is triggering Midoriya. For some reason, he’s mad at this person, but he should be happy that someone is going to bring them to justice. ‘Why I’m I like this?! What I’m I feeling?’ Midoriya was confused, did he like this murderer? 

Time Skip (10 PM)

It was 10 PM, the same time Midoriya first spotted ‘him’. Midoriya hated night patrol (does he?) but this time he is actually was excited because maybe he’ll accidentally into him. Nothing really happened until he sees the same H/c and S/c. just to be sure, he got closer and he could confirm that was M/n.

M/n was just walking around. People assumed that M/n was a kind person and that he would never do anything bad towards anyone but behind closed doors, M/n can be the most dangerous person you’ll ever meet. He shows no mercy and is ruthless. But he only kills people who wronged him and people who bully him because he was the ‘quiet kid.’

Anyways M/n was just walking, he was going to the store to get some items. As M/n was walking he could feel someone watching him. He kept turning and looking around. This is what years of bullying can do to you, it makes you more aware but of course that all changed when M/n killed his bullies. M/n arrived at the store and got what he needs. 

While walking home, he could still feel eyes watching his every move. ‘Is it that damn investigator?’ M/n yelled in his mind. But little did he know that those eyes were not from the investigator but from a hero.

Time Skip (3 weeks)

For the past three weeks, M/n felt like he was being watched. M.n could rule out that it wasn’t the investigator because he still doesn’t know who is behind all of these murders. As for Midoriya, he watched M/n from the top of the building just in the shadows. He learned a lot about M/n from stalking him, he discovered that most of M/n victims are his bullies. Midoriya is lovesick for M/n. 

Midoriya finally understood what he was feeling. These feelings developed as he began to stalk M/n more. He denied it at first but it got more controlling. Midoriya wanted to join M/n but he couldn’t do that because of the investigator. So he had to deal with him.

Midoriya got out his phone and called him. It was ringing for moments until someone picked up, “Hello?” the man finally picked up. “Ah yes, is this Satoshi...  Hashimoto?” “Yes, this is Satoshi. What do you need?” “This Izuku Midoriya and I want to help you with the murder cases.” “Wait you’re the Izuku Midoriya?!” Looks like Satoshi is a fan of Midoriya. MIdoriya is just getting more annoyed about this man. 

“Answer my question. Yes or no? The more time that is consumed, the more time that killer is out there.” “Yes, I’ll be honored for you to help me.” “Okay, I want you to meet me at my apartment. Today at 11:00.” “Uhh, why your place?” “Do you want me to help or not?!” “Yes, sorry, I’ll be over there.” “Great see you at 11:00.” then Midoriya hung up. 

Midoriya sat there with a sadistic grin on his face. ‘This night will be your last.’

Time Skip (11:00)

It was 11:00 and Satoshi should be arriving soon.11:10, Satoshi hasn’t arrived. 11:30 still hasn’t arrived. Just then Midoriya received a call. “Yes, I don’t know where you live.” *sigh* “Okay I live in the (Apartment name) complex, on the 4th floor. Go straight and then take a left, and go straight.” “Okay thank you.”

It was currently 12:10 AM and Midoriya heard someone knocking on the door. ‘About time.’ Midoriya got up and walked to the door, unlocking it. “Hey, Satoshi nice to meet you.” he extended his arm out. “Nice to meet you too,” Midoriya said while shaking his hand. “Come inside.” “Okay.” Satoshi walked inside and Modoriya locked the door. 

Midoriya slowly walked behind Satoshi, pulling out the knife he had in his pocket. “So wha-” Midoriya put his hand over Satoshi’s mouth covering it so he wouldn’t make a sound. And Midoriya shoved the knife into his head killing him instantly. ‘So this is what murdering someone feels like?’ Midoriya didn’t feel guilty, he felt relieved. 

Midoriya didn’t stop there, he continued to repeatedly stab Satoshi’s body. He cut his fingers off one by one. He cut open his chest and pulled his intestines out. Midoriya released all of his anger. “Tsk, what a mess.” Midoriya grabbed the body and put it in a trash bag. He cleaned up the blood and cleaned the knife. 

Once completed Midoriya took the body to the nearby garbage dumpster and there it in. “Time to go to sleep.” 

Time Skip (3 days) 

M/n turned on the news and he was shocked at what he just saw. “The body of Satoshi Hashimoto was found in a dumpster. The killer is unknown but it is speculated that it’s the same murderer.” ‘I didn’t kill this man? If it wasn’t me then who was it?’ M/n thought to himself. But M/n didn’t care at least Satoshi wasn’t a problem anymore. 

Times Skip (10:00 PM. Another one?! Just too lazy to put anything else.)

M/n was walking when he was grabbed and pulled into an alleyway. He was shocked at first but he regained his focus and looked up at who it was. ‘Just who I looking for.’ M/n smirked but before he could pull out his knife, and stab this person, someone else killed him. The body dropped to the ground revealing the person who was behind him. And it shocked M/n.

‘Midoriya?’ M/n mouth dropped. “Hello, M/n.” “How do you know my name?” “Well… you see. You caught my attention and... to be honest I was the one watching.” M/n couldn’t process what was going on. The MIDORIYA was interested in him and he didn’t care that I kill people? “But I kill people… how are you interested in me?” “Well I knew you were a killer but I just stayed quiet. And that investigator, Satoshi? I was the one who killed him.” 

M/n was now more shocked. “You were the one who killed him?! Why though? I thought you were a hero?” “Yes, I was the one who killed. Why? Because while I was watching you, I started to develop feelings… sick feelings. And now the last question, I WAS a hero but now I want to join you.”

Not only does Midoriya want to join you in killing people but also has feelings for you. Sick feelings. ‘I mean Midoriya is kind of cute.’ you thought to yourself. “Fine, I give you a chance and you can join me.” Midoriya face lit up and he grabbed your face and pulled you into a kiss. You blushed at this. “Okay stop that, you need to prove yourself first.” Midoriya nodded his head. 

Time skip (5 months later)

Midoriya proved himself showing you that he can handle it. He also was ruthless as you and showed no mercy. You also began to develop feelings for Midoriya and you confessed to him, he was ecstatic.  He pulled you for a long kiss and you kiss back, melting into it. He pulled back and whispered.

“You’re mine. You belong to me and I belong to you.” 

ANNOUCEMENT: I’m currently out of request! You can request me something. it has to be Male reader or gender-neutral, give a description, and you can request smut if you want. any male character from anime to your favorite celebrities. I need to create a rules section but I don’t know how to do that.

[yeeharley]

70 with parkner please🥺🥺

I gotchu,,, and lemme just say I saw your tags on my other prompt fic and melted thanks very much <3

70: You’re warm

Word Count: 1,235

Warnings: copious amounts of fluff

⭒

Statistically, the coldest winter on record for New York City recorded is negative fifty-two degrees Fahrenheit (negative forty-six-point-seven degrees Celcius). It had been taken in February of 1934 and matched in February of 1979. Car windows shattered. Milk froze on the way home from the store.

In negative fifty-two degree weather, you can receive frostbite within just five minutes of exposure.

Peter feels like this winter could beat that record into the ground and set up its gravestone without breaking a sweat.

He’s literally freezing his ass off. His curls are so close to frozen that they crunch when he reaches up to brush them out of his face. His eyelashes feel more like icicles. Every moment that his eyes are open against the biting cold is another moment in which he fears losing his vision.

It’s so cold.

So, so cold.

Okay, so maybe not that cold. He might be exaggerating a little bit. 

Just a little bit.

It’s mid-December in New York City, hovering in the low thirties. The temperature barely fluctuates from day to day, leaving the city in a perpetual state of waiting for some Christmas snow. Peter’s sure there’ll be some by the next week if the weather reports are being honest.

As much as he’d love some snow, he’s dealing with some issues that had come with a certain spider bite, and he would prefer to avoid freezing his extremities off before January starts.

Put simply, Peter can’t thermoregulate properly. At all. His powers just won’t permit it, and it’s the only side effect that makes him wish he’d never been bitten.

He gets way too hot in the summers. Sweats right through his t-shirts and feels absolutely disgusting for hours on end. The suit isn’t very well ventilated, despite being made by Tony Stark, and that means that it sticks to his skin as he peels it off after missions.

It’s disgusting.

But if summers are bad, winters are much, much worse. Yeah, sweating sucks. It’s gross. Heatstroke is a constant danger.

But being perpetually cold? Shivering under layers of hoodies and sweatshirts and still having to function? Knowing that, no matter how many shirts you put on, you won’t be able to keep the cold at bay?

Yeah. That really sucks.

Plus, there’s always the danger of hypothermia, and Peter falls into way too many lakes for a newly-nineteen-year-old college student to tolerate.

Coming back to his dorm and having to avoid his really hot, really Southern roommate while shivering his ass off in freezing-cold, soaking wet spandex? 

It’s awful.

So. To reiterate. Peter Parker hates winter with a passion and a vengeance.

And now he’s dripping water from the East River all over Colombia’s carpeted dormitory hallways, and he’s going to get some kind of infraction or something from this, and someone is definitely going to question why Spider-Man is limping around in a college housing division. 

“Oh, thank God,” Peter mutters, teeth chattering harshly beneath his mask as he turns another corner and makes it to the familiar door that leads to his dorm room (and Harley’s, but he’s way too cold to be thinking about that particular issue right now).

His hands are shaking so much that he can hardly pull his lanyard out of his suit pocket. It takes three tries for him to get the key into the lock and another thirty seconds to turn it in the right direction.

He’s not being nearly as careful as he should be. If anyone were to see him right now, it would take almost no time for them to connect the dots- Spider-Man lives in room 18 in dorm building 3. Harley Keener and Peter Parker live in room 18 in dorm building 3. Harley Keener is over six feet tall. Peter Parker is under six feet tall. Spider-Man is under six feet tall.

Bam. Identity outed. Crisis time.

But he’s too tired and cold to be careful.

Peter stumbles into the dorm, slamming the door behind himself as he checks to make sure that, yes, Harley’s bed is empty. Yanking his suit off, he pulls a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie out of the nearest dresser before collapsing into bed, barely shoving his suit under the floor-length curtains.

He passes out immediately without checking whose bed he’s in.

⭒

Harley walks into his dorm room with his backpack slung over one shoulder and immediately spits his iced coffee into the nearest trash can.

Peter Parker is asleep in his bed. 

“Oh,” he says dumbly, setting his bag down on his desk and trying to hide the strawberry blush on his cheeks. Considering the chill outside, he’s feeling- yeah, he’s feeling very warm right now.

So gay. You’re so gay, Keener.

It’s no secret Peter is attractive. You’d have to be blind not to recognize that- or at least, Harley’s always thought that. And he’s definitely not blind.

There’s just something about his smile and the way his hair curls around his ears that happens to be so insanely endearing that Harley could never avoid noticing it. He’s sweet, and smart, and easygoing in a way that makes everyone want to be around him.

And, apparently, he looks very good in Harley’s clothes.

He doesn’t know why, but Peter seems to have grabbed his Thrasher hoodie and a pair of his joggers that he’d left on top of his dresser. The hoodie dwarfs him, drooping over his hands, and Harley’s joggers bunch up around his ankles with a few extra inches of fabric.

Harley presses a hand to his mouth, trying to hide the stupid smile that he knows is spread across the bottom half of his face, and moves quietly across the room. Peter looks like he’d collapsed on top of his bed; he’s lying across his covers instead of under them. From the way he’s curled in on himself, Harley can tell he’s shivering.

His hair looks wet. 

“What’d you do?” Harley grumbles as he gently lifts Peter up and resituates him, pulling the covers over his legs and then up to his neck. “Go for a swim in the middle of winter?”

He doesn’t receive an answer. There is, however, a sudden vice around his wrist- Peter’s hand?- that yanks him down onto the bed and pulls him close.

He’s stronger than he looks, apparently.

Harley stares down at the brown-haired boy, eyes wide as he burrows further into his chest. He must be asleep- after all, why else would he be doing this? He couldn’t actually like Harley, right?

Right?

This is taking advantage, Harley thinks, gritting his teeth and trying to pull away. You’re taking advantage of him and you need to stop.

But Peter has managed to attach himself very firmly to Harley’s front, and it doesn’t seem like he’s about to let go.

“Hey, darlin’,” Harley croons, inching backward as much as he can without falling off of the bed. “Gotta wake up, Peter.”

Peter doesn’t wake up, but he does tighten his grip and huff out a quiet sigh.

“You’re warm,” he mumbles before burying his face in Harley’s chest and pulling him closer.

Harley’s chest is filled with some kind of happiness that he hasn’t felt in years. He smiles and, bending down, presses a gentle kiss to Peter’s left eyebrow before closing his eyes and snuggling in, burying his nose in Peter’s curls.

[10rcng]

TRCNG members sueing TS ENT. because of child abuse

TRCNG is a group beneath TS ENTERTAINMENT, a company that was previously managing B.A.P, and also sistergroup SONAMOO.

Earlier today word has gotten out that two members of the group, Taeseon and Wooyeop, are sueing the company for child abuse and injury resulting from violence. they also want to terminate the 9 year contract they’ve signed with TS ENT.

Not a lot of people know TRCNG, but the members’ ages are between 19 and 18. Some members have been training at TS ENT. for over 5 years before they made their debut on 171010. This means some of them have been at this company with abusive staff for over 7 years.

Below is a part from Soompi’s article on the case, and I’d like for everyone to read it as it’s truly disgusting what the members have been put through. 

According to Wooyeop and Taeseon, Park Sang Hyun forced them to practice choreography from 5 p.m. to 5 a.m. every day, and they had to report to the company again at 10 a.m. for vocal and personal practice. The members could not travel two to three hours round trip to properly attend school, so they switched schools in their second year of high school and are currently two years behind other students of their age.

Wooyeop and Taeseon said that Park Sang Hyun also assaulted the members using a game as an excuse and cursed at them continuously. The agency did not take any action when the members where injured while B-boying, so the members went to the emergency room by themselves to receive treatment. They were not provided food, and their dorm’s water and power were cut off due to the bills not being paid. As the agency did not take action when their air conditioner, toilet, and purifier were broken, the members’ parents fixed them or purchased new ones.

Regarding choreography director Yoon, he is said to have assaulted Wooyeop with a steel chair on June 10 of this year. The company did not take any action, so Wooyeop went to the Soonchunhyang University Emergency Room by himself and was told that he would need 14 days to recover. He went back and forth to and from the hospital for two days, but he was transferred to a different hospital nearby due to a high fever. His temperature exceeded 40 degrees Celsius (104 degrees Fahrenheit) when Park Sang Hyun visited the hospital and said, “One person’s life can be ruined because of you, so be careful of what you say.”

After Wooyeop was discharged from the hospital, Park Sang Hyun and other managers said that he is lying and that he got sick from drinking and meeting up with girls. Wooyeop is now receiving counseling at a hospital. He shared that another employee of the agency also extorted 1.2 million won (approximately $1,030) from him.

According to the statement, Taeseon was scolded and hit often since trainee days because he is the leader, and he says that he was hit in the head and cursed at when being scolded. He decided that he can no longer remain in the company while seeing the lack of action taken when Wooyeop was assaulted and in the hospital.

Here’s a link to a detailed translation of the original statement posted by their lawyers; [ x ]

The company has also released their counter statement, stating Taeseon and Wooyeop are both lying, and that some of the TRCNG members also do not agree with the accusations. However, these members are all children. I can only imagine they don’t feel comfortable about speaking up against the abuse, and that these distasteful powerful people are threatening them just as they threatened Wooyeop when he was in the hospital.

TS ENT. will sue Taeseon and Wooyeop back for the harm they’re causing the company by ‘spreading these lies’ and also for defamation.

If you’ve liked groups as B.A.P or SONAMOO, you’ll probably already know what kind of a disgusting company TS ENT. is. But this is crossing a line we never believed to hear of, and I beg of you to spread the word about this situation. TRCNG does not have a lot of fans and we need all the help we can get. 

Taeseon and Wooyeop are 19 year old kids. They’ve taken away the lives of all these 10 kids completely, setting them back at receiving education, abusing them mentally and physically, not paying their wages. They had vocal practice at 10am till their dance practice began, I’d think. They were forced into practicing dance for 12 hours at nighttime, TRCNG’s dances are difficult and include acrobatic tricks. These sessions were held daily with the man who threw a metal chair at Wooyeop. Imagine if they made a mistake during this dance practice... Only then to have 5 hours of the day left till they’d have to repeat the entire process again. 5 hours to sleep and rest. They’re not getting paid their wages because of TS ENT. and they’re also not getting fed by TS ENT, they can’t even pay for their own food so their parents have to help them with everything. They were at that company where there were people able to abuse them for 17 hours a day, and when they weren’t at the company they had to live at a place so neglected that they couldn’t even receive water nor electricity at. They’ve not been given anything by this company that they’ve dedicated their teenage years to. This is not a life, this is not a dream being made true. This is not okay. We can’t let this company get away with this again. Please help us spread the word. Please.

[pcttrailsidereader]

14 Lessons from theTrail

As the 2021 hiking season is well underway, the time is right to share wisdom from seasoned veterans of the trail.  Brett Fisher (Backtrack) – http://www.wanderabout.org/ – suggested that the five lessons from the PCT as articulated by Anna (North Star) and Chris (Shutterbug) – http://wanderingthewild.com/ – along with the five more added by Bobcat –  http://roamingbobcat.wordpress.com/ – and finished off with his own four, would be worthy of publishing.  I agreed.  Reflection is such an important part of the PCT experience.  

These 14 lessons are a powerful reminder to each of us long distance hikers.  I love the positive spirit reflected in their words. You may have your own to add and you may take issue with some (I’m still chewing on #8) … please let us know.

Brett ‘Backtrack’ Fisher

North Star and Shutterbug noted that their thru hike of the Pacific Crest Trail taught them many things. Here are five of the most important lessons they learned on the trail.

1) Senses awaken in nature. After years of living in a city, our minds subconsciously created filters to deal with the contant  jumble of sensory information. It was thrilling to remove those mental filters and reawaken our senses in the great outdoors. The crack of a distant twig alerted us to an elk, almost hidden in the forest. We could smell day hikers’ deodorant and laundry detergent from several feet away. Our eyes tracked the subtle movements of a soaring hawk adjusting to shifting air currents. The longer we lived in the wild, the sharper our senses became.

2) People are good. On the trail, day hikers and trail angels gave us encouragement, kudos, and tasty food. Other thru hikers shared our joy during good times, and cheered us up during harder moments. Crews of volunteers labored to maintain the trail. The people we met in the small towns along the PCT were incredibly friendly and accommodating. Strangers went out of their way to give us rides, find us rooms, and some even offered us their homes for a night. The kindness and generosity we received went beyond anything we could have expected. We saw the fundamental goodness of people during our thru hike.

3) Hike your own hike. Hikers often tell each other to “Hike your own hike” (HYOH), recognizing a wide variety of backpacking preferences. We knew this phrase before starting the Pacific Crest Trail, but its meaning really sank in with a few hundred miles under our feet. HYOH worked for us in many small ways, such as our hiking pace — we walked slower than most thru hikers so we could take more pictures. But we also realized HYOH applied to larger life choices, such as our decision to continue hiking long trails, rather than immediately returning to desk jobs. To Hike Your Own Hike is to allow yourself to do what works best for you and your passions, and to support others in doing what works for them. The result is greater happiness for everyone.

4) Fewer possessions is freeing.  We found that the less we had, the happier we were. Each possession was not only physical weight to carry, but also mental weight. Carrying just one set of clothes meant no decisions about what to wear in the morning. Instead of carrying chairs, which could break or get left behind, we sat on the ground or on logs. Taking only the food we needed made meal choices simple. We didn’t bring bowls and plates, all of which we’d have to clean. Rather we ate right from our pot. With less items to think and fret about, our minds could relax and be open to all the beauty around us. The simple lifestyle is truly freeing.

5) Wilderness is home. As the weeks passed, we became more and more comfortable living in the desert, the mountains, and the forest. A primal part of us came to the forefront. Fresh air, clean water, and open space surrounded us and sustained us. As our relationship with the wilderness deepened, we felt more at home there than we did in civilization. We had not expected this, but it turned out to be one of the most powerful aspects of the hike.

                                                                     Photo Credit: Rees Hughes

These are the five added by Bobcat.

6) Joy is our natural state. On the trail life is reduced to its most basic necessities: water, food, sleep, shelter, safety from the elements and natural beauty. Because our minds are freed from having to handle what Northstar and Shutterbug call the constant jumble of sensory information, we are open to tackle deeper and deeper levels of thought. Because the trail is so long, at some point we run out of things to ponder, analyze, consider or solve. When that happens, the void that is left seems to immediately be filled with a sense of joy and peace. So, at our most basic level, underneath it all, this must be our natural state.

7) Life is a mirror (you get what you give). I have experienced this more than once on the trail: If I approach the road in a joyful and optimist state, I wait for a hitch less than five minutes; if I approach it with a bad attitude, it will be a long while before I get picked up. The kindness and generosity we received as hikers I believe is in direct correlation to our own state of open-mindedness. The opposite is true also. Fear attracts scary situation. People who feared bears had bear encounters. I started the trail worried about poisonous plants and managed to get poison oak on one leg and poodle-dog-bush on the other. When I became grateful for the cortisone cream two generous hikers gave me, the oozy mess cleared up over night.

8) All you need is love and gratitude. Somewhere in the first few hundred miles of the trail, I became so frustrated with my UV water purifier and so jacked up on iodine that I stopped using any sort of water treatment. Instead, I held the water to my heart and told it, sincerely, “I love you, please don’t make me sick, thank you”. The method proved excellent the whole trail, including with that one batch of “bear pooh water” (see “I believe in angels”). Inspired by my success, I also used this method as sunscreen (I love you Sun, please don’t burn me, thank you), bug-repellent (I love you spider, please stay off my tarp, thank you) and holographic deck (I love you trail, could I get a shady spot, mosquito free, by some water, thank you). Seriously, it works. Try it for yourself.

9) Freedom is an intrinsic quality. Before I left, a good friend told me that the PCT would likely be the one place where I could find enough space to accommodate my humongous need for freedom. All former thru-hikers I have met mention “freedom” as the greatest gift they received from the trail. All that fresh air, clean water and open space seeps into your soul and sticks. I think freedom is always in us, but sometimes our vision of it is clouded. Once we touch that quality within us, it remains wherever the end of the trail finds us. Some of us continue to wander, travel, explore or hike; others return to former lives and jobs from an expanded perspective. In all cases, you can take the hiker off the trail, but not the trail out of the hiker.

10) Laugh it off. Never mind great truths and life-changing discoveries; we know nothing. Any labeled identity we create for ourselves will be destroyed as soon as it’s uttered. I once wrote that my feet hurt, the next day my feet stopped hurting. I once wrote that I preferred solitude, the next day I found myself  hiking with a small group of fun people and loving it. I once was very upset at the thought of no-longer being a “thru-hiker”. I think we all feel that way. That is in part why we seek the company of other thru-hikers post-trail. Am I still a hiker if I’m not hiking? Who cares! Each experience is worth its weight in gold. I think it’s important to not take ourselves too seriously and as Dacia so eloquently put, to get out of our own way, learn to surf the wave, revel in the power of it, and let it all come together.

                                                                         Photo credit: Jim Peacock

And the final four from Backtrack.

11) It’s not a race. Lightweight, a hiker who hadn’t yet escaped the vortex at Casa de Luna, started a list in the Anderson’s trail register, “How To Win the PCT.” First on the list: Be the last to Canada. If you’re hiking northbound that is. Hiking a long trail is not a competition. There aren’t winners and losers. All of us get there only one step at a time.

12) It’s not about the miles, but what happens between the miles. I heard this from my daughter, Dances With Lizards, the only member of Team No Hurries to get to Canada this year. Maybe this is a variation of “the journey is the destination.” We live between the miles. Not in how many miles we’ve walked today, all week, or the whole hiking season.

13) It is what it is. It’s 105 degrees Fahrenheit. It’s 18 miles to water. There’s a thunderstorm right on top of us. The snake ate the rabbit babies. I am very hungry. It isn’t good and it isn’t bad. It is what it is and has no need for meaning. I take a break in the shade in the heat of the day. I carry 4 liters of water. I hunker down from the rain and lightning and watch the display. A snake’s got to eat, too. I eat some food. It is what it is, now and in this moment.

14) There’s pain but that doesn’t mean there is suffering. A day hiker descending Mount Whitney says to me, “Are we having fun yet?” I am huffing and puffing and legs burning on the way up and pant out, “I think we do this for other reasons than fun.” Walking on blisters hurts. Legs and knees and ankles and feet sometimes ache, and sometimes all ache at the same time. Sometimes I am very hungry. Sometimes I smell very bad and so do all my companions. My socks have holes in them. Yet, I laugh at the pain and discomfort. We laugh together. There is joy out here on this trail. Between every step and every mile.

15) add yours here …

[robbybirdy]

Chapter 111

Sul Sul, Gerbits. You know sometimes you have to laugh at the mistakes you make. And this one was one of those recipes. 

We are going to be making chocolate macarons. 

The recipe will be in the description down below. 

I would normally say that you have to preheat your oven first. But, that is not the case with this recipe because you do not need the oven preheating an hour before they are ready to go into the oven. It may change the consistency of the macarons.

You are going to line two baking sheets with parchment paper or silicone baking mats if you have them. I used parchment paper. 

There are a bunch of free macaron templates online. I have printed 1 ½ inch circles spaced out a couple of inches apart on the parchment paper. This is going to help you guide the macaron shells later. 

The recipe and the measurements will be in the description down below.

After you have the parchment paper on your mats begin to make your macarons. The first thing you want to do is sift the almond flour, powdered sugar, and cocoa powder in a sifter, or a food processor, and then sift it. 

You can sift it multiple times to make sure that the ingredients are completely mixed and light, and then set it aside until you need it.

The next thing you want to do is beat the egg whites on medium speed until they are foamy, which takes about 1 minute. Gradually add the granulated sugar, about 1 tablespoon. Not 1 teaspoon at a time, because that takes a very long time. 

Waiting 20 seconds or so between each addition of sugar.

Once you have all the sugar added, continue to beat the egg whites on medium to medium-high speed until stiff peaks form. It will probably take about 4 minutes. There is a scary way to tell if your egg whites are stiff. And that is if you can place the bowl above your head without anything falling out, they are stiff. 

Slowly add the dry ingredients a third at a time to the egg whites. You are going to slowly fold the ingredients together. Most recipes for macarons call this macaronage. 

You are going to need a rubber scraper or spatula for this part. To fold, scrape the sides of the bowl, in a j -shaped motion. 

You want to keep count on how many times you are folding the batter. Most recipes say that you should not have folded it more than 80 - 100 times. It depends on the factors that are present in your kitchen that day. Humidity, the temperature outside, and the temperature in your kitchen can all affect the quality of the macarons. 

You are going to fold another third into the macaronage and count to twenty. 

Do this one more time, adding the last third into the bowl. You want to count twenty folds. This will mean that you have counted sixty times. Once all of the dry ingredients are in the egg whites, you are going to fold until you can make 1 or 2 figure-eight patterns with the ribbon of the batter. 

This mixture should look and feel like coarse sand. 

At this point, you are going to transfer the batter to a pastry bag with a large rounded tip or a ziplock bag with one corner cut off. 

Begin to pipe the macarons into 1 ½ inch circles on your prepared parchment or silicone lined baking sheets. Making sure to space them out a couple of inches apart.

When the cookie sheet is filled, lightly tap them on the counter a few times to remove air bubbles. 

This is the most important part, make sure to let them sit out for 30-60 minutes. Once they are ready, the tops are dry to the touch and they don’t stick to your finger. 

You are going to preheat the oven to 300 degrees Fahrenheit. Bake one cookie sheet at a time, for 16 to 18 minutes. 

Let them cool completely before removing the shells from the parchment paper. 

For the filling for these cookies, I used ⅔ cups of powdered cocoa. And heavy cream. 

Filling the cookies gets messy. But fun.

The recipe itself was really easy to follow. If I had followed it to the T like I was supposed to. I am sometimes impatient when it comes to waiting for food. So, I didn’t let the macarons sit for that long, and they did not grow the legs that they are known for. I served them to my family and one of my little ones said “Mommy, you're making us poop?” As she asked that though, she ate it and said “this poop tastes yummy.” That was funny.

Sometimes, recipes don’t turn out well. But sometimes, the only factor that should matter is the taste. I hope you liked this recipe, make sure to like and subscribe for more recipes like this one in the future. Vadish, Dag Dag. 

previous / next

Breakfast with Cordelia Description

Recipe: https://robbiebirdie.tumblr.com/macaron

[newstfionline]

Tuesday, June 29, 2021

Offices after COVID: Wider hallways, fewer desks (AP) The coronavirus already changed the way we work. Now it’s changing the physical space, too. Many companies are making adjustments to their offices to help employees feel safer as they return to in-person work, like improving air circulation systems or moving desks further apart. Others are ditching desks and building more conference rooms to accommodate employees who still work remotely but come in for meetings. Architects and designers say this is a time of experimentation and reflection for employers. Steelcase, an office furniture company based in Grand Rapids, Michigan, says its research indicates half of global companies plan major redesigns to their office space this year. “This year caused you to think, maybe even more fundamentally than you ever have before, ‘Hey, why do we go to an office?’” said Natalie Engels, a San Jose, California-based design principal at Gensler, an architecture firm.

Canada sets record temperature of over 114 degrees amid heat wave, forecasts of even hotter weather (Washington Post) Lytton, a village in British Columbia, became the first place in Canada to ever record a temperature over 113 degrees Fahrenheit on Sunday—and experts are predicting even hotter weather to come. The temperature in Lytton soared to just under 115 degrees Sunday, according to Environment Canada, a government weather agency. “It’s warmer in parts of western Canada than in Dubai. I mean, it’s just not something that seems Canadian,” Environment Canada senior climatologist David Phillips told CTV News on Saturday. Even in the metropolitan hub of Vancouver, parks, beaches and pools have been flooded with residents eager to cool off as the temperature hit 89 degrees at the local airport on Sunday—a record in a coastal city that usually has mild weather. The high temperatures in the region have been blamed on a “heat dome”—a sprawling area of high pressure—now sitting over western Canada and the Pacific Northwest. Experts say climate change can make extreme weather events like this more common.

Florida condo collapse echoes tragedies in Brazil, Egypt and India (Washington Post) Around the world, in countries with paltry building codes, little enforcement of existing rules and the proliferation of informal housing, tragedies like Thursday’s building collapse in Florida—where scores of people are still missing—have taken a heavy toll. Among the missing is the first cousin of a former president of Chile, where in 2019 at least six people died when two houses collapsed in the port city of Valparaiso. Others are from Argentina and Colombia, sites of two deadly building tragedies that killed at least a dozen people in each country in 2013. On Friday, five people were killed in the coastal Egyptian city of Alexandria after a five-story building collapsed—an all-too-frequent event in a country where planning permits are often bypassed or violated and makeshift structures house millions of people. At least two people died in Brazil when a four-story residential building crumbled June 3 in a slum in Rio de Janeiro, were organized crime is known to have a hand in shoddy construction projects. In India, buildings are routinely at risk of collapse during the annual monsoon rains. The night of June 9, at least 11 people, including eight children, were killed in Mumbai when a two-story building collapsed on nearby structures, the BBC reported. Local authorities said it was likely due to heavy rains.

New Cuba policy on hold while Biden deals with bigger problems (Washington Post) Five months into his administration, President Biden’s campaign promise to “go back” to the Obama policy of engagement with Cuba remains unfulfilled, lodged in a low-priority file somewhere between “too hard” and “not worth it.” “I would say that 2021 is not 2015,” when Obama reestablished full diplomatic relations with Havana and opened the door to increased U.S. travel and trade with the communist-ruled island, only to see Donald Trump slam it closed again, a senior administration official said. “We have an entire world and a region in disarray,” the official said, speaking on the condition of anonymity to discuss internal deliberations. “We are combating a pandemic and dealing with a breaking down of democracy in a whole host of countries. That is the environment we are in. When it comes down to Cuba, we’ll do what’s in the national security interest of the United States.” But if the current state of the world and national security demands on the administration make addressing the relationship with Cuba one hard problem too many, what makes it not worth the effort is a purely domestic matter. For the most part, it comes down to two words: Robert Menendez. The Democratic senator from New Jersey, the powerful chairman of the Foreign Relations Committee, is a key player in issues the administration sees as far more important than Cuba in a Senate evenly split along party lines. The U.S.-born son of immigrants from pre-communist Cuba, he is strongly against reopening the door to Havana.

Venezuela migrants cross US border in droves (AP) Marianela Rojas huddles in prayer with her fellow migrants, a tearful respite after trudging across a slow-flowing stretch of the Rio Grande and nearly collapsing onto someone’s backyard lawn, where, seconds before, she stepped on American soil for the first time. It’s a frequent scene across the U.S.-Mexico border at a time of swelling migration. But these aren’t farmers and low-wage workers from Mexico or Central America, who make up the bulk of those crossing. They’re bankers, doctors and engineers from Venezuela, and they’re arriving in record numbers as they flee turmoil in the country with the world’s largest oil reserves and pandemic-induced pain across South America. Last month, 7,484 Venezuelans were encountered by Border Patrol agents along the U.S.-Mexico border—more than all 14 years for which records exist. While some are government opponents fearing harassment and jailing, the vast majority are escaping long-running economic devastation marked by blackouts and shortages of food and medicine.

Peru’s election limbo (Foreign Policy) Supporters of both Pedro Castillo and Keiko Fujimori took to the streets of Peru over the weekend as the June 6 presidential election still does not have an official winner. Castillo’s apparent 44,000-vote victory has been delayed by Fujimori’s accusations of fraud in an election process that international observers, including the United States, have described as free and fair. An electoral jury charged with adjudicating contested ballots resumes its review today, with an official result only possible once the jury’s work has concluded.

Who needs hackers? (Foreign Policy) A spat between Russia and the United Kingdom over a British naval vessel’s transit near Russian-occupied Crimea took a bizarre turn over the weekend when classified documents about the operation were found in a sodden heap behind a bus stop in Kent. The documents, given to the BBC, describe the boat’s journey—which caused Russia to scramble military jets—as an “innocent passage through Ukrainian territorial waters,” and includes potential routes that would have avoided a Russian response. The British government has launched an investigation into how the documents leaked. Responding to the incident, Russian foreign ministry spokesperson Maria Zakharova mocked the British government. “Why do we need ‘Russian hackers’ if there are British bus stops?,” Zakharova said on Telegram.

The Far-Right Stumbles in France (Foreign Policy) The French far-right fared poorly in regional elections over the weekend, failing to win control of even one of France’s 18 regions and potentially denting Marine Le Pen’s chances ahead of next year’s presidential contest. Le Pen will hope that the low turnout belies greater support on the national stage. An estimated 34.5 percent of French voters cast a ballot on Sunday.

Spain, Portugal further restrict UK travelers (AP) Spain and Portugal have placed new restrictions on U.K. travelers. Portugal says they must go into quarantine for two weeks unless they have proof of full vaccination against COVID-19 finished 14 days earlier. The policy took effect Monday. The government says people can quarantine at home or in a place stipulated by Portuguese health authorities. Arrivals from Brazil, India and South Africa come under the same rule. All others entering Portugal must show either the European Union’s COVID Digital Certificate or a negative PCR test. In Spain, beginning Thursday, people arriving from the U.K. in the Balearic Islands will have to show they have been fully vaccinated against COVID-19 or have a negative PCR test.

India Shifts 50,000 Troops to China Border in Historic Move (Bloomberg) India has redirected at least 50,000 additional troops to its border with China in a historic shift toward an offensive military posture against the world’s second-biggest economy. Although the two countries battled in the Himalayas in 1962, India’s strategic focus has primarily been Pakistan since the British left the subcontinent, with the long-time rivals fighting three wars over the disputed region of Kashmir. Yet since the deadliest India-China fighting in decades last year, Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s administration has sought to ease tensions with Islamabad and concentrate primarily on countering Beijing. Over the past few months, India has moved troops and fighter jet squadrons to three distinct areas along its border with China, according to four people familiar with the matter. All in all, India now has roughly 200,000 troops focused on the border, two of them said, which is an increase of more than 40% from last year. China is adding fresh runway buildings, bomb-proof bunkers to house fighter jets and new airfields along the disputed border in Tibet, two of the people said. Beijing also adding long-range artillery, tanks, rocket regiments and twin-engine fighters in the last few months.

U.S. targets Iran-backed militias in Iraq, Syria strikes (Washington Post) U.S. forces launched airstrikes on facilities on both sides of the Iraq-Syria border, the Pentagon said Sunday, in response to recent drone attacks on U.S. troops in the region carried out by Iran-backed militias. Two militia locations in Syria were attacked, along with one in Iraq, Pentagon spokesman John Kirby said in a statement, which described the strikes as defensive in nature. Officials have said militias employing small, explosive-laden drones to attack regional U.S. personnel is one of the chief concerns for the U.S. military mission there. Syrian state media said, without providing evidence, that U.S. strikes hit residential buildings near the border around 1 a.m. local time, killing one child and wounding three residents.

Palestinians protesting against Abbas (AP) Thousands of Palestinians have taken to the streets in recent days to protest against President Mahmoud Abbas and the Palestinian Authority, whose security forces and supporters have violently dispersed them. The demonstrations were sparked by the death of an outspoken critic of the PA in security forces’ custody last week, but the grievances run much deeper. Abbas’ popularity plunged after he called off the first elections in 15 years in April and was sidelined by the Gaza war in May. The PA has long been seen as rife with corruption and intolerant of dissent. Its policy of coordinating security with Israel to go after Hamas and other mutual foes is extremely unpopular. Protesters at the Al-Aqsa mosque on Friday accused the PA of being collaborators, a charge that amounts to treason.

Ethiopia declares immediate, unilateral cease-fire in Tigray (AP) Ethiopia’s government on Monday declared an immediate, unilateral cease-fire in its Tigray region after nearly eight months of deadly conflict as Tigray forces occupied the regional capital, soldiers retreated and hundreds of thousands of people continue to face the world’s worst famine crisis in a decade. The cease-fire could calm a war that has destabilized Africa’s second most populous country and threatened to do the same in the wider Horn of Africa, where Ethiopia has been seen as a key security ally for the West. The declaration was carried by state media shortly after the Tigray interim administration, appointed by the federal government, fled the regional capital, Mekele. Meanwhile, Mekele residents cheered the return of Tigray forces for the first time since Ethiopian forces took the city in late November. Ethiopia said the cease-fire will last until the end of the crucial planting season in Tigray. The season’s end comes in September.

After pandemic free-for-all, parents struggle to reinstate screen-time rules (Washington Post) The week after Rebecca Grant took away her kids’ video games for a month, after a year of relaxed pandemic rules, her 10-year-old son was livid. The ban wasn’t an easy decision for Grant. The 46-year-old mom of two from Fremont, Calif., did hours of research and read multiple books from parenting experts. She joined Facebook groups for families in similar situations and closely watched her children’s behavior, which had been worrisome for a while. “He was really not taking it well,” Grant said. “In a way, it reinforced my decision. He’s just so attached to this [video games], he’s not rational.” After 15 months of various levels of shutdowns, families in the United States are trying to come out of a tech-filled haze for summer. It’s a chance to swap out Xbox time for bike rides with friends, or Zoom school for summer camp. But parents are discovering that subtracting screen time is much harder to do than adding it. They are facing resistance from kids accustomed to their freedom or just struggling to find alternatives to fill the time before a more normal fall school semester begins.      While some parents just want their kids to be social or active again, many have noticed personality and behavioral changes in their children. They’re irritable, argumentative and have poor focus. Some have become anxious or depressed, or throw more tantrums and fly into rages. “Having all that screen time all day for a whole year, their nervous system is really disregulated, and those symptoms need to be reversed,” said Victoria Dunckley, a child psychiatrist who studies the impact of screens on children and the author of “Reset Your Child’s Brain.” “All this overstimulation is putting them into a state of stress.”

[duchessfics]

Falling for You

(https://charliewrites.tumblr.com/post/174967894140/sarah-paulson-in-american-horror-story-roanoke)

(https://ssarahpaulsonn.tumblr.com/post/106046276381/sarah-paulson-american-horror-story-murder)

Audrey x Fem!Reader x Billie

Warning(s): None

Summary: You and your girlfriends go out with your parents to pick apples, but something unexpected changes your plans.

Word Count: 2584

A/N: First of all, that summary...yikes. But the third “fall” piece is here! I knew I wanted to include one with Audrey x Reader x Billie and this turned out longer than I intended, but it was too fluffy to resist. (Also I mentioned the temperature being 65 degrees Fahrenheit and I believe that's around 18 degrees celsius, but I’m not sure. Either way it’s a relatively warm temperature)

We have three sentence prompts this time. Two are from @lillie-writes post (Here’s the link)

12. “Is fall supposed to be this cold?”

25. “Cuddle with me so I can get warm.”

And one is from @forever-rogue‘s post (here is the link)

70. “I don’t do horror movies--no, puppy dog eyes are against the rules, you can’t make me--fine, I’ll watch a scary movie with you.”

You sit on one side of Billie while Audrey is on the other as you ride a tractor wagon down a dirt path to the local apple orchard. On the bench opposite of yours, your mom and dad sit facing the three of you. However, as the ride continues, you notice Audrey has her arms crossed over her chest and seems hunched over to protect herself from the elements. “Is fall supposed to be this cold?” Audrey asks with a shiver running through her. You move forward to look past Billie and say, “Audrey…it’s 65 degrees out.” Making your parents and Billie chuckle along with you. But Billie shrugs off her cardigan and drapes it over Audrey’s shoulders as she coos, “She’s just used to our warm California weather.” Then she wraps an arm around Audrey’s shoulders, rubbing her outside arm with her hand. Audrey smiles and relaxes into Billie as she says, “Thanks.”

Not long after the tractor stops, and everyone makes their way off of the wagon to start picking apples. Then your mother says, “How about you pick some golden delicious and your father and I will go further down to pick some Jonathan apples.” You nod and give a grateful smile as she gives you a knowing wink, taking your dad’s hand and leading him away. As soon as you turn, Billie has a mischievous smirk with an eyebrow raised and asks, “Are you ready, my darlings?” and she begins to walk down the nearby aisle knowing you and Audrey will trail after her like lost puppies—which you do. As you begin to walk in between the trees, the smell of sweet apples and earth fill your nose, making you feel like fall really is here.

Audrey lets out a contented sigh and says, “I’m so glad you have an extra pair of cowboy boots, sweetheart. This is messier than Instagram makes it out to be.” You giggle at her expectations and reply, “I’m just glad they fit you. You look cute in them too.” Then you stop and look at the tree to your left for any clean apples to pick. But the branches look well picked over with only rotting apples left behind.

“Bill, I think I would make a pretty cute cowgirl. Don’t you think so?” Audrey chirps and you glance back to see the short-haired blonde posing with a hand on her hip while the cardigan is tied over her shoulders. Both you and Billie chuckle and the latter saunters up to Audrey before purring, “You make an adorable cowgirl, my darling.” Then Audrey lets out a squeak as you hear the sound of Billie smacking her ass and you burst out laughing, doubling over at Audrey’s deep red cheeks and Billie’s wicked grin. Once you catch your breath, you tell them, “We should keep going.” So, the three of you settle down and proceed further.

Finally, you find a tree with some clean, juicy apples and begin to pick as many as you can reach, placing them in a bag to carry back. Once you think you’ve got them all, you back up to make sure and then you see it: the perfect, large golden-colored apple. Your tongue wets your lips just thinking about eating it as it shines just right in the sunlight. But your hand can’t quite touch the apple as you reach up. So you get on the tips of your toes and your fingers brush against the glossy skin of the apple, but it’s not enough to bring it down.

Then another hand with maroon acrylic nails picks the apple for you. Billie’s warm body presses up against your back, but she steps away enough for you to turn and face her, her hands guiding you along the way. “Thanks.” You shyly say, blushing as you take the prized item and place in the halfway filled bag. The blonde smirks and before you realize it, her fingers hook in the belt loops on the front of your jeans and she tugs you close to her. “Oh, you’re very welcome, doll.” Billie purrs and a whimper escapes your lips as she leans down and presses her lips against yours.

After a moment, you gasp her name, blushing at her boldness. But she wraps her arms around you hugging you close as her hands rest on the small of your back. “I’ve been wanting to kiss those perfect, pouty lips all day.” Billie murmurs and you let out a small moan, feeling more aroused with each moment. You warmly welcome Billie’s kiss this time, melting into her chest and ready to forget about the apples altogether. However, your heated kiss is broken after you hear Audrey cry out.

Billie whips her head around and you peek over her shoulder to see Audrey on the ground with remnants of fallen rotten apples on her pants and shirt. Immediately you both rush over to her and you say, “Oh my god! Are you alright?” The actress looks herself over and replies, “I-I think so.” But you can tell she’s shaken up. Billie kneels down so she’s close and soothes, “Let me help you up, darling.”  Audrey takes her arm and tries to stand, but she falls back down with a whimper and says, “My ankle. I-I don’t think I can stand on it.” Her sweet, brown eyes look glassy and Billie cups her face before soothing, “It’s ok sweetheart. You’re going to be ok.” You look between them and say, “Stay here. I’ll tell my parents what happened, and we can head back to the main area to get some ice.” Billie nods and presses a kiss to Audrey’s forehead as you rush over to your parents and explain what happened. Your mom takes the partially filled bag and after making sure Audrey doesn’t need anything else to help her get to the main area lets you rush back to your girlfriends.

Somehow, Billie got Audrey into a standing position, but Audrey leans heavily on the medium’s shoulder. You come up to the other side of Audrey and help her limp back to the tractor wagon. Once you’re seated, you gently lift her leg so she can elevate her swollen ankle on the bench across from her. This time you face Billie and Audrey and make sure that Audrey is as comfortable as she can be.

Once the tractor starts going, Audrey looks to you both and says, “I’m sorry for messing your fall-themed plans up. I’m such a stupid klutz.” You take one of her hands, gently shushing her while Billie takes the other hand. “Don’t call yourself that, darling. I’ve sprained my ankle many times and in smaller instances than this. Once it happened when I tripped over one of my shoelaces.” At that she shows a small smile and you give her hand a reassuring squeeze before continuing, “I’m just glad you aren’t hurt worse.” Then Audrey looks to Billie and says, “Sorry for ruining your cardigan.” And she looks down to her lap. Billie presses her lips to the top of the short-haired blonde’s hand before murmuring, “Clothes can be replaced. You mean more to me than a thousand cardigans.” And Audrey lets a small smile slip, looking less glum.

Once the tractor stops, you and Billie help Audrey limp over to a nearby picnic table, but Billie says she’ll be back in a minute before walking over to the giftshop. You see her look around, but she disappears, walking around a corner. However, a couple minutes later, Billie struts out with a bag and says, “I got you something to wear so you aren’t covered in apples. They didn’t have many options, but I tried to pick the cutest thing.” Audrey grins and shyly thanks her. Billie helps Audrey stand to go and change you tell them you’ll get a bag of ice for her ankle.

You return to the picnic table first, but the blondes step out of the nearby restroom soon after. Audrey wears a matching set of gray sweater and sweatpants, both with the orchard’s name on them. Once they sit, Audrey lifts her leg to rest it on the bench and you gently place the bag of ice on it, checking to make sure it isn’t unbearably cold. “Feel a little better, honey?” you softly ask. The actress gives you one of her familiar smiles and replies, “I do. But was your mother ok with us leaving? I know she wanted us to pick a lot of apples.” You lean close and cup her cheek with your hand before murmuring, “She wasn’t upset at all, Audrey. If anything, she just wanted to make sure you were ok.” Billie sits behind Audrey and hugs her from behind, her hands landing on Audrey’s stomach. Then she leans down and presses reassuring kisses behind her ear and down her neck, helping her to relax a little bit.

Before long Audrey is giggling and acting like her bubbly self once more, making both you and Billie feel relieved to see her doing better. But your conversation gets interrupted by your parents walking up with three bags of apples filled to the brim. “How are you doing, Audrey?” You mom asks. Audrey blushes and answers, “I’m feeling much better, thank you, Mrs. L/N.” You take the ice away so the three of you can stand and your dad says, “I guess you could say Billie and Y/N knocked you off your feet!” immediately you give him a glare and say, “Dad!’ while your mother gives him a pointed look. But Audrey giggles and replies, “You’re quite right.” You look to her and mouth the word “sorry”, but she shakes her head and gives you a wink before holding out a hand for you to take. As you make your way to the car, your mother says, “I was thinking we could have a campfire tonight and make smores if the three of you would be interested?” Audrey lets out a small squeak of excitement while Billie replies, “We would love that, Mrs. L/N.” So, you talk over your evening plans as you drive back to your parents’ house…

You take a bite of your freshly made smore and close your eyes, savoring the taste. However, even though you’re near the well-kindled fire, you find yourself shivering from the cool night air. Audrey leans close to your ear and softly asks, “Are you alright, my love?” You nod and look to her before shyly replying, “Just a little chilly.” Then you take another bite of your smore and Billie comes closer before murmuring, “Can we do anything to help you, sweetheart?” As you feel her warmth, you lean into her and almost whisper, “Cuddle with me so I can get warm.” Billie gives you a knowing smile and wraps her arm around your shoulders to pull you close. Meanwhile, Audrey curls into your other side and you slowly begin to relax as you feel yourself warming up.

You finish your smore, licking the remnants off of your fingers when your dad asks, “You feel cold, pumpkin?” and you can feel both of your girlfriends grinning at the nickname. “Um…a little bit.” You admit. He stands up with a groan and stretch before saying, “Tell you what, I’ll get a blanket for you to share, but you’ve got to keep it pg while your mother and I are out here. Ok?” Your face feels like it’s on fire and Audrey quietly giggles in your ear as you bashfully say, “Ok.” As he starts to walk away, you hide your face in Billie’s shoulder, groaning, “Sorry about that.” Billie lets out a low chuckle and lightly scratches your back with her nails, murmuring, “Oh your father is no trouble at all…pumpkin.” And you hide your face even more as they giggle at your reaction, but you are smiling as well.

Before anymore can be said, you hear your mother say, “The apple pie just came out of the oven and I thought you ladies may want a slice.” At that, you lift your head to see your mother carries three small plates with steaming pie slices while your father carries two plates and has a blanket draped over his arm. All three of you thank your parents for the servings of pies and you especially thank your dad for the blanket, spreading it over your and your girlfriends’ laps.

At first, the only sounds present are the crackling of the fire, a couple of chirping crickets, and the sporadic clinking of forks against plates. But Audrey breaks the silence, letting out a moan of pleasure before exclaiming, “Oh my god! This is delicious! I have never in my life tasted a pie as good as this!” You glance up to see your mother beaming at the praise and know there is nothing that makes your mom feel more loved than someone complimenting her baking. “I’m glad you like it. There’s plenty more where that came from.” You mother replies in a demure tone. Upon hearing that, Audrey lights up even more and chirps, “I’m going to eat as much as I can. I mean—wow! This tastes amazing!” Your mother melts at the praise and you feel happy to see your parents and girlfriends getting along so well and having a good time in each other’s company.

Once all five of you have finished your delicious pie slices, you mom takes your dad’s hand before saying, “Well, I think we are going to head to bed. Do you need anything else? More blankets or pillows? Or perhaps something to drink?” Billie gives her a smile and replies, “I think we are good for the moment, but thank you.” As your mother comes around to collect the plates, she says, “If you do happen to need anything, I’m sure Y/N will be able to help, and we’ll have our phones on us just in case.” This time Audrey thanks her, and your parents tell the three of you goodnight before stepping inside the house.

Immediately you snuggle into Billie’s chest and pull Audrey closer to you so you are warm and cozy. Billie lets out a quiet chuckle and scratches your back making your practically purr. Then you softly murmur, “We should watch a scary movie since we’ll be in my parents’ cabin tonight.” Audrey stiffens at the suggestion making you look to her hardened eyes. But you let your bottom lip slightly jut out while you look to her through your lashes. But she sternly says, “I don’t do horror movies—no, puppy dog eyes are against the rules, you can’t make me—fine. I’ll watch a scary movie with you.” You let out a squeal of delight and pull her into a hug, squeezing her tight. “Thank you, Audrey. You’re the best. And Billie and I will make sure to keep you cuddled and protected from any movie monsters.” She lets out a defeated sigh, making Billie chuckle from behind you. Then she says, “let’s get this over with. I’m going to need a good amount of wine tonight.” Billie lets out a laugh and teases, “I’ll keep your glass full darling. And I won’t even charge anything to your tab.” Then you put out the fire and the three of you make your way to the small cabin while you talk about what movie would be most appropriate for tonight.

Tagged: @marilynroselleprentiss, @saviorinsilk, @chokemepaulson, @versonstar, @lush-les-lady

Let me know if you would like to be tagged in later works!

[misslisterkeepsajournal]

1826 Thursday 18 May

9 1/2

12 1/4

Two at once good last night slept without drawers or napkin till four this morning when I put on the latter took it off a little before nine and had three kisses at once -

Lay awake this morning of what we were to see in London and Paris - M- [Mariana] had a letter from her mother this dated Boynton (sir William Strickland’s) - Dr Belcombe very much better for his visit - the letter written in very good humour - surely Mrs Belcombe fancied M- [Mariana] would shew it me -  I opened and read it aloud to Pi [Mariana] - went down to breakfast at 10 3/4 -

M- [Mariana] and I went out (at 11 3/4) to William Keighley and had [?] William and Joshua and 3 peelers who began this morning peeling the oaks sold to James Drake of Northowram - staid with them till their dinner - then loitered about and came in at 2 1/4 - promised and afterwards sent them a footing something to drink (M- [Mariana] having wished a couple of little oaks to be taken down that had been spared) 3/. among the six -

My aunt busy in her own room all the day looking over her clothes etc M- [Mariana] and I tired and heated - both of us had 1 hour’s nap upstairs in our room - then she sat by me at her work while I read over the stone lease Mr Parker lent me, and drew up instructions for Mr Parker respecting the agreement with Mr Freeman - by and by John Green came, and brought me 20 sovreigns on account of the colliery - saying he did not think more than as much more could be raised by midsummer told him they had hundreds to pay - I had appointed Mr James Briggs steward - the money must be regularly paid 1/2 yearly - shewed John Green the plans, and gave him a copy of Mr Washington’s measurement of the quantities got - John Green did not believe there had been so much got - said they must rectify the error if they could prove there was any - I was going away - must have the matter settled and be paid on the 5th of July - shewed him my uncle’s book and that they would have near £300 to pay - said nothing but that I thought John Oates a very honest man but it struck me that if Holt had not measured, it might not have appeared that so many coals had been got - talked over the matter a little with my aunt - then with M- [Mariana]

Dressed - Dinner at 6 1/4 - made coffee (a 20 minutes job) in the French cafetière to shew M- [Mariana] From 9 1/2 to 11, writing out memoranda for Mr Parker (he sent me this afternoon a bill of sale of the furniture at Northgate) mean to see him tomorrow - and wrote all but the 1st 5 lines of today - very fine day - very hot - very sultry and threatening thunder in the afternoon, but it held off - Barometer 7/8 degree above changeable Fahrenheit 58˚ at 11 1/2 p.m. at which hour went up to bed -

Reference: SH:7/ML/E/9/0100

[andersunmenschlich]

Episode 8: Burned Out

Okay! So tonight I get the story of an Ivo Lensik, a contractor. (I sense a haunted house story.)

He gets called in to take over a wiring job for a guy who had jury duty, and decides to take the job and do it in the evenings since he has another job going during the day. So far, so good.

The house is on Hilltop Road, which apparently is a very quiet road with not a lot of people living on it. This means Ivo Lensik is going to be in an unfinished house in a secluded location as night falls, doesn't it? I like that. That is nicely spooky.

Let's see, the house has two floors, doors but no locks, and no windows.

...Why are they putting electricity into a house with no windows? It might just be me, but that seems like a good way to get a short.

Oh, and there's a big old dead tree in the yard.

I quite like trees, especially big ones, but the dead ones are only really good to look at since if you climb them the limbs have a tendency to break at inconvenient moments. This tree sounds particularly aesthetic: apparently it casts nice, clear, dark shadows even on overcast days. I don't know why, but I really like the sound of that.

Anyway, the third evening of this job, there comes a knock on the door. Ivo Lensik goes and opens the door (and takes a hammer, in case the knocker is unfriendly), and oh, look! It's a man in a tan jacket.

No word on a suitcase filled with flies, though.

The man in the tan jacket introduces himself as Raymond Fielding, the owner of the house.

And this is evidently not a crossover, since our statement-giver seems able to describe him quite easily: young, white, maybe mid-twenties, clean-shaven with shaggy chestnut brown hair. He produces the deed to the house, which says yep, a man named Raymond Fielding owns the place.

So Ivo Lensik lets him in, which is something I don't entirely understand. I mean... sure, he's got a deed saying the house belongs to Raymond Fielding, and sure, he says he's Raymond Fielding, but what proof is there that he is?

But our story-teller lets him in.

Raymond Fielding (self-proclaimed) heads over to an empty window and stares out into the backyard, which is weird but I guess doesn't get in Ivo's way, because he goes back to work. Then there's the smell of burning hair, and when Ivo Lensik looks for the man in the tan jacket all he finds is a smoldering patch of floor in front of the window.

...That's some extreme spontaneous human combustion, right there.

And the floor! Is that coming out of our Ivo Lensik's paycheck? I mean, how's he going to prove he didn't char the floor?

Oh. Apparently I was worrying about nothing, because when he takes a couple seconds to grab a fire extinguisher the smoldering bit goes as cold as the rest of the floor, and then the ashes turn out to just be sitting on top of the wooden flooring, which is fine once it's cleaned up.

That's surprisingly thoughtful of... Mr. Fielding, I guess, or whoever burned him.

Anyway, I approve.

Ivo cleans things up and then, as the situation sinks in, begins to panic because he thinks he's losing his mind. It seems his dad went a bit loopy later in life, and Ivo's worried it'll be him next.

Ivo's father, it seems, was obsessed with fractals. Big into mathematics, which I can understand. Math can be really fun, when you're not being forced to do it. But the older Mr. Lensik also developed this idea that some mysterious person who can be recognized because "all the bones are in his hands" was stalking him and trying to stop him from finishing his fractal work, which would definitely be stark, staring, unmoored-from-reality paranoia in our world, but since this is the world of The Magnus Archives, well... who knows?

Aha, and then one day he turns up dead in his locked(?) study with deep gouges along his wrists and arms (made by something the coroner can't identify) and a look of fear on his dead face, surrounded by drawings of fractals (not in blood, though, in pencil, mostly on paper but also on the walls). And this is called a suicide, because of course it is.

"All the bones are in his hands"?

I have no idea what that means, but dang it sounds creepy.

I'm picturing a kind of boneless man with giant hands full of all the bones the rest of his body doesn't have, dragging the squelching, wet, oozing part along like giant, bony spiders trailing a partly digested corpse.

In any case, Ivo's so worried about losing his mind that he loses his balance, slips on the just-cleaned floor, and hits his head.

Whereupon he loses consciousness.

Head wounds do have a marked tendency to bleed awfully. So when he wakes up, dizzy and bleeding, I'm sure it's quite dramatic. In fact he's so dizzy that he can't drive, and calls an ambulance instead. It comes and takes him to the hospital, and yes, he's got a terrible concussion, which I suppose means he can't be alone for a while, either.

At least he probably won't end up at the apartment of a strange man who eats notebook pages... but, then again, who knows?

He tells his doctor everything and asks if he's losing his mind.

His doctor says no, probably not—it would be very strange if he went that nuts that quickly, normally you have to sort of work up to full-on hallucinations, and Ivo is reassured.

Meanwhile, an eavesdropping nurse (an older lady) seems very interested in the story, but (like most eavesdroppers) doesn't hang around to be talked to. Just before Ivo's discharged, though, he sees her again. Actually it's her job to give him the final check, so they get to talk! Which, it seems, she wants to do.

She wants to know if the man in the tan jacket really called himself "Raymond Fielding."

Ivo says yes, he did, and he had a deed to the place with that name on it, too. This information seems to give the old lady a need to sit down. So she does, and explains that her family's among the few living on Hilltop Road, and they know that house.

Apparently there was a house there in the 1960s, and it belonged to a man named Raymond Fielding, who used it as a halfway house on behalf of the local diocese.

Having a bunch of juvenile delinquents around didn't make the neighbors happy, but everybody really liked Raymond so nobody said anything. And then one day Agnes showed up. She was eleven at most and might have been Raymond's actual daughter, and she was also kind of creepy, always standing in windows staring at people. But she didn't cause problems, so....

Oh, and then the delinquents slowly stopped causing problems.

Actually it looks like they slowly started vanishing.

And then there was no one living there but Raymond and his maybe-daughter Agnes... and then there was just Agnes, who by this point was a quiet young woman of 18 or 19.

Okay. Something's definitely up with Agnes.

People ask where Raymond went, and she just says he went away and the house is hers now. Which apparently is the case—the house has been legally signed over to her, and there's certainly no sign that Raymond's been murdered or anything. So she lives there, all by herself, which sounds lovely except I do wonder how she gets the groceries, and what happens if a pipe leaks or a drain gets clogged or something?

Maybe she knows how to handle all that sort of repair on her own, but if there's one thing I know it's that you can't buy groceries without money, and it's very difficult to get money without leaving the house unless you work from home somehow, which Agnes doesn't seem to do.

Ooh, and pets in the area tend to vanish, so people learn not to keep them.

...And it looks like small children aren't exempt from vanishing, either. So long, Henry White, five years old.

A week after little Henry goes missing, the Fielding house burns to the ground. No one calls the fire department, because Agnes creeps them out and they figure she might have had something to do with all these disappearances—which, frankly, seems like a pretty reasonable assumption to me, but that still looks like a fire hazard to the whole community, doesn't it, unless someone's come up with a way to prevent neighbors' houses from catching fire when something like this happens?

Well, maybe the Fielding house is set far enough away from the other houses (and the air's calm enough) that it isn't a problem. Who knows.

Anyway, there's no sign that there's anyone in the house at all, and when the fire finally gets put out a burned body is found inside—but it doesn't belong to Agnes. No, it's the skeleton of Raymond Fielding, missing its right hand. Huh. I wonder if that's the hand that signed the house over to Agnes....

Then people cleared up the rubble and had some confusion over who the land belonged to now, and finally they figured it out and someone started building.

That new house is where our Ivo Lensik is putting in wiring.

So the man in the tan jacket was a ghost. Haunted house! Called it.

Ivo Lensik, recovered from his concussion, decides to do his wiring work as much during the day as possible, and he does pretty well; but whenever he finds himself alone in a room, or things get quiet, he thinks he sees little Agnes's brown pigtails whisking around corners, or thinks he smells burning hair.

Funny, he didn't see anything to do with Agnes before, and... would she be dead now? I don't think she died in that fire, anyway. Maybe he's imagining that, now that he knows the story.

He does pretty well at working only during the day when there are other people around, but as they're finishing things up apparently he works later and later, and one night he looks up to find the sun's set and he's completely alone. Whereupon he starts sweating.

He thinks he's just freaking out at first, but no—he's legitimately burning up. Like fever, except more so.

Now, I'm usually cold. I live in the desert. On average it gets up to around 93 degrees Fahrenheit come July, and that strikes me as a bit warm but much better than winter, because my internal heating system basically doesn't work. That said, this doesn't sound great. I have no objection to lying around like a lizard on a rock, surrounded by heat that seems to melt all your muscles to useless, cozy goo... but this kind of heat sounds unpleasant.

Ivo takes off his coat and his hat and it doesn't do any good at all. He can't even breathe, he's so hot. He's collapsed to the floor (dying, I think) when there's a knock on the door and suddenly he's fine.

He climbs to his feet and answers the door, and it's a Catholic priest.

...Well, that was unexpected.

Oh, apparently the nice old lady from the hospital sent him (and apparently her name's Annie). Aw, she was worried about Ivo so she sent him an exorcist. With suspiciously good timing, too!

Father Edwin Burroughs wanders around and takes a look at the house while Ivo explains what's been happening, and then he tells Ivo to go hang out in the backyard while he runs through some prayers and things and sees if he can't do for ghosts what's typically done for demons.

In the backyard, Ivo suddenly develops an herbicidal mania and attacks the already dead tree with a crowbar.

Which seems... really weird to me.

And then the tree starts bleeding! Like, actual blood!

I wonder what kind of blood it is. And if it's human, would it be any good for transfusions? Could they just go tap the, I dunno, B- tree instead of asking for donations or going to the blood bank? Blood trees could be really handy so long as they didn't, you know, curse anyone who got their blood! ...Actually, depending on the curse, certain types of people might think it was worth it anyway.

Oh, and the tree's got old scorch marks at its base. Which I guess makes sense: it's an old tree, it would've been here when the old house burned, right?

Ivo decides to chain the tree to his car and drag the thing out of the ground, for reasons which are not well explained and make me think either he's got some kind of supernatural intuitive sense, or something's reaching into his head and using him as a tool to destroy the tree.

He drags the tree out of the ground.

The bleeding, surprisingly, stops.

Looking into the hole where the roots used to be, Ivo notices something in the dirt and climbs down to get it.

It's a six-inch-square wooden box engraved with patterns that remind me of that table from episode three (which, after the concussion, is the second thing in this episode to remind me of that one), and it's got a nice, fresh, green apple inside. Looks like it's just been picked.

When Ivo takes it out of the box, though, the freshness shrivels away, the skin splits, and spiders just pour out of the thing.

He screams and drops everything. The apple hits the ground and turns to dust.

Ivo backs off and waits for the spiders to leave before he goes back and wrecks what sounds like a perfectly lovely box, which wanton destruction I'm coming to expect from this particular statement-giver, and chucks the splinters into a trash can.

Not long after Ivo's finished trashing everything, Father Burroughs comes out of the house and, ignoring the tree, tells our guy that he's done his prayers and hopefully it'll help and here's his card.

Ivo works on the house for another week.

There are no further interesting incidents. Job done, he leaves and never goes back.

Jonathan Sims seems to blame the man in the tan jacket on the concussion that happened later, or else on the genetic disposition to mental problems that the doctor said probably weren't happening. That... it seems like he's really reaching here. Maybe it's less that he's an actual skeptic, and more that he really, really doesn't want to know what's actually going on?

That would make a kind of sense: it's a sort of self-defense. He only believes horrible things when he's forced to. Otherwise he's skeptical, sarcastic, and dismissive.

Oh, neat—Father Edwin Burroughs gave a statement, too!

I'm guessing the fact that it's mentioned means we get to hear it later.

Unless this is the kind of show where they taunt you with stuff you never get to know, but that's unusual and so I figure I'll be hearing that one eventually. Should be fun!

And apparently Ivo Lensik was the only contractor who got haunted by the house they were all working on, which is interesting. I wonder why? Was it just because he was the only one who stayed late? Or maybe he was the first one to stay late, or the only one to let in an ID-less stranger waving an old deed and claiming to be Raymond Fielding, or...?

Who knows.

Mr. Sims's assistants have apparently done a ton of work in research, as usual.

Martin couldn't figure out who built the old house, but the earliest records it turns up it show it being bought by Raymond Fielding's grandfather (Walter Fielding). Then it was inherited by his father (Alfred Fielding), and then by him. But there's no record that it was ever an official halfway house. Maybe he was running it illegally. Maybe that record got lost. No way to know.

Tim got an interview with the nice old nurse, Anna Kasuma, but didn't get any new info.

One of the residents of Hilltop Road did provide a photo of the old house in flames, which means that while nobody called the fire department, at least one person was taking pictures. This strikes me as extremely human.

The obit for Raymond Fielding said he worked with juvenile delinquents, and died in a house fire, but didn't give any real details.

Mr. Sim's little team down at the Magnus Institute apparently can't turn up any proof that Agnes ever even existed, which makes me think that something's definitely going on with her.

...Ooh.

And on the same day Ivo Lensik uprooted that old dead tree, a woman named Agnes Montague was found dead in her apartment.

Apparently she'd hanged herself, and there was a severed human hand attached to her waist with a chain—a right hand, one that the coroner time-of-death-ed at the same time Agnes Montague died, which makes no sense from a natural perspective but suggests some interesting things from an unnatural one.

What do you want to bet it was the ghost of Raymond Fielding that made Ivo Lensik uproot that old tree?

Oh, and Agnes Montague passed as only 26.

You know, if you're going to tie your life force to something, maybe don't pick a tree? It's as bad as a secret painting that you have to hide in a secret room of your house to prevent people from seeing how old and evil you're actually getting.

What would I tie mine to? Uh... hmm. I think maybe entropy. A painting never ages, sure—a tree loses life a lot more slowly than a human—but the entropy of a closed system never decreases over time. Tie your life to a painting and it'll age instead of you, to a tree and you'll get all its life, but if you tie your life force to entropy, well! That's a force that'll never run out, and if it should happen to decrease a bit... would that be so bad?

In any case, two more families lived in that house since this statement, and nothing weird happened to any of them, either.

Looks like Raymond got rid of Agnes and they both finally died.

This is a really good story! I like this one. It's very tidy.