#also i literally finish eating dinner at 4 it’s the worst possible time

[ao3screenshotss]

why do all pizza places open so late it’s always from 5pm-11pm i’m craving pizza at 3am

[script-nef]

An actual break | Gojou Satoru

Category: fluff

2.6k words; Beach date [4/6]

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You haven’t been to the beach in months. So a car trip for hours, where you can blank out and peer out of the window to enjoy the wonderful and ever-changing scenery is amazing. Dipping your feet in the water or eating from food vendors or enjoying the warm summer sun on your skin. Perhaps getting a tan if the weather is perfect. This would all be perfectly enjoyable and possible.

If it wasn’t for work.

“[Surname]-san, why are you coming with us? You said you can’t fight.” Itadori calls from the backseat, nestled not-so-comfortably between Fushiguro and Kugisaki. 

Wouldn’t it be better if Kugisaki is in the middle since she’s the smallest and the skinniest? The thought drifts into your head but you soon understand why. As soon as the words leave his mouth it’s met with a firm and resounding slap on the arm. Itadori’s yelp of pain is silenced under her hiss of “God, you’re so tactless! Now move over, it’s getting cramped with all of the bags.” Ah, she didn’t want to sit in the middle. And what bags? I didn’t bring any.

They keep their banter up and a quick glance to both Gojou and Fushiguro indicates that they have no intention of stopping it. Gojou is actually humming through the bickering. Why do I have to be the adult? He’s like, 5 years older than me. That’s literally what he said as the reason to drive instead of you. 

“It’s fine, Kugisaki-san. I’m coming along because there’s been a lot of cursed spirit activity around here and I need to see if something abnormal is happening. I’m not going to get in the way of the fight so you don’t need to worry.” You send Itadori a smile through the back mirror which he responds with a quick nod, then a confused look.

“Isn’t that Gojou-sensei’s responsibilities?” The mentioned adult laughs and smoothly makes a right turn. You want to slap him.

“Normally, yes, but he insists on being insufferable.” You turn to face them, leaning onto the seat with a scowl. “The report he made was nearly illegible and last time something like this happened, and I had to sit down with him for 3 hours to complete it. Even then, he was going off topic half the time and trying to distract me. Itadori-kun, Kugisaki-san, listen to me. If he doesn’t do his work, you have to practically force him.”

“Doesn’t work.” Fushiguro comments while looking out the window. Gojou has the audacity to laugh again.

“We had a great time! You were laughing your head off by the time we were done.” A light tug on your shirt makes you sit back properly. The scowl stays in place.

“I missed dinner! And I missed the last episode of Haikyuu thanks to that!”

“Fine, fine. I’ll take it up by buying you dinner, okay?” He must be kidding if that makes up for missing your favourite anime. Kuroo came and went thanks to him. The car comes to an abrupt stop just as you’re about to complain again. “We have arrived!”

Salt wafts in the air as the sea twinkles underneath the afternoon sun. It’s hot today, and humid enough to make your clothes stick to your skin, which is gross. Sunny and warm means a swim will be ideal, but you have to take care of the whole recurring curses thing first. Previous reports have said that they were all mid-level, so hopefully Gojou’s students won’t have that much of a problem taking care of them. That also means they, including you as well, might have the opportunity to relax for the rest of the day. 

The actual spot is somewhere in the nearby forest, filled thick with trees and so large that even if someone went missing it would take ages to search. An ideal hunting place since a lot of people visit there. Numbers dropped quite a bit after the fifth person “went missing”. 

The first task is to cover the place with a curtain. Since the place is so large and not encompassing the entire place was deemed too risky, large amounts of cursed energy is required. Hence Gojou’s efforts right now.

“[Name]-san.” Kugisaki calls you. “Are you coming in with us?” Her voice is tentative, like she doesn’t want to offend you. It’s kind of funny because she shows more respect for you than her actual teacher for some reason. Gojou complained about it before. She doesn’t know the extent, or more accurately the lack of, your powers and has a right to be worried. All she knows is that you can’t fight. 

“Ah, I am coming in, but I’ll stay far away from the fight. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“And I’ll be right by her side!” Gojou snaps into thin air, linking his arm with yours.  “Your personal bodyguard! But I’m sure you guys can handle this one.” Still humming a tune, he sends them along their way with a reassuring smile. You smile at Kugisaki and wish her good luck. Shooting Gojou a suspicious glare, she runs ahead to the two boys and starts whispering. They look back at the two of you and get into what seems to be an argument. A bad thing to do right before a possibly life-threatening mission.

You watch the group disappear deeper into the woods, fear gripping at your heart. This is actually the first time in the field after years of being tucked away in an office. Ken-chan specifically requested it due to your unique cursed energy situation. Apparently that was the first time he asked for a favour to the principle and he never asked for anything again. They can handle themselves, you’re sure, but Itadori already had a close call.

“Worried?” Gojou, on the other hand, sounds like he has no concerns in the world. Maybe that’s a testament to how much he trusts his students. It doesn’t alleviate your agitation. “It’s fine, we can just take a break here and if trouble comes, they can take care of it themselves.” You stare at him incredulously. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! I’ll step in if something goes wrong. You’re all in safe hands.”

There is no one better than him in terms of fighting with cursed energy. How on earth someone like this gets imbued with endless power, you’ll never know. Sighing, you take a seat on a fallen log. The moss on them tickles your fingers. It feels nice, something to distract you from your brain being its usual bastard and thinking the worst case scenario. Gojou plops himself down right next to you. 

“We can go see them if you’re that worried, mother hen.” Nudging his leg shuts him up. Closing your eyes, you concentrate on reaching out for their cursed energy. Eight signals flicker from where they went, three blazing stronger than the others. One of them is nearly blinding. Sukuna is on a completely different level. If there’s that much of a difference in energy, they’ll finish soon and come back to have fun for the rest of the day. God knows they need it.

Your eyes flit open and come face to face with Gojou’s blindfold. It causes you to fall backwards and you brace for impact with a little yelp. But Gojou’s arm surrounds your abdomen, lifting you into the air and onto your feet. Heartbeats thud in your ears thanks to the sudden adrenaline boost.

“Did I scare you?” His laugh is cheeky. “I’m bored… Wanna play 20 questions?” As usual, his train of thought is impossible to even attempt to follow. A window of hundreds of tabs wrestling to be the first all the time is probably what the inside of his mind looks like.

“Sure, why not.”

Fushiguro, Itadori and Kugisaki all perk up when they receive the news of a day off to enjoy the beach. Since it’s closed off to the civilians, it’ll be like a private party. Something to keep their mind off of another mission that’s bound to come soon.

While they run off to the beach, you go to talk to the park rangers for the paperwork. Gojou asks if you want company but someone needs to supervise the children. The process takes barely 10 minutes anyway.

When you come back to the beach, the trio is screaming in the sea while trying to fight each other. Even Fushiguro is laughing. Childlike innocence is beautiful and long overdue. Two huge parasols and towels are laid out nearby where they’re playing. Gojou is out of his usual attire and in a swimming trunk. His blindfold is still on. Is this what was in the bags?

Now that you look more closely at the students, they’re all in swimwear as well. Looks like you’re the only one that didn’t get a memo. 

“Heya! Done?”  

“No thanks to you, Mr The-Whole-Reason-I’m-Here-In-The-First-Place.” He laughs at the nickname. 

“You should change.”

“I didn’t bring a swimsuit. Nobody told me and I was just thinking of dipping my feet.”

“Nobara brought you one. It’s in the bag labelled ‘If you look inside I’m going to kill you.’” Laughter comes out at the absurdity.

“Why did Kugisaki—”

“Because she wants you to relax. Now come on! Let’s have fun!” he pushes you excitedly towards the car. It’s really weird how someone your senior has more energy than you and his three students combined. Sighing, you trek back and find the bag. It really is labelled that, in caps. Kugisaki is a good kid. 

There’s a bathroom nearby for you to change in. The wind is still pretty strong when you walk out but you’re saved thanks to the school jacket. There’s also a pair of flip-flops. Ken-chan must have helped since they all fit perfectly. 

Itadori is being half-drowned when you come back. Fushiguro and Kugisaki are merciless when it comes to fighting. Gojou smiles as you walk into his line of sight. Scooting over to let you into the shade, he lies back onto the towel and stretches his legs out into the sun with a slight groan. You stay sitting up, watching the three children absentmindedly. 

Sunlight tickles your feet. The sea breeze stops it from being too hot but it’s slowly getting stuffier under the jacket. Quickly discarding it, Gojou catches your eyes while you fold it up.

It’s impossible to tell if he’s awake or sleeping thanks to his signature blindfold, but this is the most relaxed you’ve seen him in years; hands folded behind his head and muscles completely loose. Small scars dot his body, probably gained from fights which he deemed insignificant enough to bother Shouko with or heal himself. In a way, it’s a reminder for all the battles he’s survived. Pretty easily too, you’re guessing. There’s a deep one on his stomach and your hand moves towards it for some reason.

Long fingers intercept your hand just before it touches the scratched skin, entwining themselves to you. One end of Gojou’s lips quirks up. 

“I’m going to be embarrassed if you keep looking at my body, you know.” You immediately attempt to rip your hand back but he’s got you locked tight. He’s not even using Infinity. Heat threatens to explode your face because he’s been awake all this time and you’re going to die from shame. “If you wanted to touch me then you could have just asked.” Your fingers graze against the skin on his stomach for a split second but he loosens his grip and you will be damned if you don’t take that chance. 

Gojou cackles, enjoying your flustered state, and he’s halfway to suffocation because he’s laughing too much. His instincts still allow him to move out of the way for your punch. Doesn’t stop him from laughing though. Even his students, who were screaming and playing like they didn’t have a care in the world, are looking at the two of you. God, where’s a hole for me to die in right now?

Eventually, his laughter dies off. He’s still chuckling though. His teeth glint in the light as he gives you a wide smile. A sense of foreboding washes over you. 

“Up we go!”

“What?” Two arms hook under your knees and back, lifting you effortlessly into the air. Your body bounces in his arms every time he takes a step closer to the sea.

“Wait Gojou, wait wait wait wait!” 

“Gojou-sensei wai—” 

The water is freezing. 

“Gojou Satoru, I’m going to kill you!”

“That’s admirable! I’m sure you can do it!” Fushiguro snickers as you swipe an arm at Gojou, who moves away effortlessly again. Hair is plastered to your face and this rage is not going to subside unless you rip the blindfold off his smirking face and dunk his head into the water. But he keeps dodging you, just barely, as if to taunt you further.

Exhaustion sets in quickly since moving around in water is a lot harder and anger eats away at your stamina. Just as you’re about to give up, Gojou’s face is slapped with a wave of water. Everyone looks to Kugisaki. She has the biggest smile you’ve ever seen.

“Pfft.” Fushiguro’s laughter breaks the silence. Itadori snickers at Gojou’s drooping hair. Soon everyone’s laughing. Then Gojou whips water that hits all three of them straight in the chest with a resounding smack. They immediately retaliate with a wave that you get caught up in. 

It somehow turns into a students vs adults fight. Delighted laughter echoes in the air as everyone yells and shrieks when assaulted with icy water. There’s an unspoken rule to not use cursed energy, which is why your side is being pushed back. There’s no beating three excited kids when they’re on a holiday high. 

Backtracking a bit to get away from the constant surges of water, you don’t realise you’re going deeper and deeper into the sea. A rock shifts underneath your feet and you’re plunged into the cold grips of the sea, not even given enough time to call for help. Panic overtakes your senses as you squeeze your eyes shut, hands scrambling for something to hold onto. 

“[Name]!” Warmth engulfs you as Gojou lifts you out of the murky depth, worry and dread weaved into his voice. You blink rapidly as he gently brushes the hair off your face, and you see his eyes without the blindfolds for the first time. “Look at me, are you alright?”

They’re… indescribably beautiful. It’s the purest and translucent blue you’ve seen in your life, able to beat the colour of the ocean or the sky on its clearest days. It could compete with even the most exquisite sapphire locked up in a vault underground. And they’re clouded with concern and fear because of you.

“[Surname]-san!” Bringing yourself up by hugging Gojou’s neck, you see the trio wading through the water to you, dread clear on their faces. Itadori reaches you and rapidly asks if you’re fine and that he can’t possibly describe how sorry he is. It looks like he’ll dig his head into the ocean floor if you ask him to do it. Like he’s waiting for you to reprimand him.

But all that comes out is laughter, bright and childlike. They all look at you like you’re crazy. You have no idea why you’re laughing either. Maybe you’ve finally gone insane.

But being in Gojou’s arms, seeing his and Itadori’s face relax, brings you so much happiness. Tightening your arms around Gojou’s neck, you rest your head on top of his as he calms them down. 

Maybe it’s the adrenaline from nearly drowning, maybe it’s something else, but your heart thumps rapidly into your ribcage, probably loud enough for him to feel.

Next chapter →

[thoughts-on-bangtan]

What do you think of JM’s updated Spotify? I don’t normally read into things, but his song choices makes me sad. “At my worst” “I can’t be myself (excuse me while I cry) & “When was it over?” With the lyrics “was it that fight we didn’t have when I came in? Was it the first time you saw me drunk? Second time I said I’m sorry?” It sounds like a replay of Vmins dumpling incident and it worries me. JM looked off in the recent live, almost sad and pouty lately. Do you think I’m over analyzing it?

Admin 1: The short answer to this would be: yes, you are over analyzing things.

The longer one would be that, for example, Pink Sweat$'s At My Worst isn't a sad song, it's actually the exact opposite. It's a very cute and romantic song. Just look at the first verse:

Can I call you baby? Can you be my friend? Can you be my lover up until the very end? Let me show you love, oh, no pretend Stick by my side even when the world is caving in, yeah

I'd actually argue this kinda sounds like a mixture between Sweet Night and Friends when it comes to the sentiment of those words. I’ve seen some people even claim that this will replace Ed Sheeran’s romantic songs that have so far been used at every wedding ever because of how sweet it is.

Then we have Justin Bieber’s I can’t be myself which I believe you probably only looked at the title and jumped to conclusions because, again, this isn’t a sad song either. The lyrics are more about how Justin (or whoever) cannot be himself when you (I’d guess he likely means his wife) isn’t by his side, thus wanting to say that he is happiest and most himself when they are together. It’s sweet and lovely, not sad.

I could travel any place But without you, it's just runnin' around (Girl, I'm just runnin' around) They could open Heaven's gates But without you, I'm just stuck in the clouds (Yeah, yeah)

Lastly, from the songs you specifically highlighted, is Sasha Sloan’s when was it over? which yes, I’ll admit this one is a sad song about not being able to let go even though you know there is nothing left. The song though has a very calm sound, something you’d listen to in the evening, and something I could see both him and Tae like listening to, not because Jimin relates to the lyrics but because it’s simply a pretty song.

On my current playlist I have Stromae’s Formidable, a song about a heartbroken man getting wasted after a breakup. I’ve neither gotten my heart broken nor am I sad and yet I still love this song because it’s just a really good song. Sometimes that’s the only reason we need to listen to a song. Nothing more to it.

All that to say that I don’t believe there is any correlation whatsoever to be made here, especially since Tae and Jimin look more than happy in recent months (did you notice Jimin happily smiling at Tae during their most recent performance of Butter for Colbert at the beginning of their subunit dance?) and there is nothing that could indicate to us that something went wrong between them, or that Jimin could be sad or something bad going on with him. I mean, look at JKs playlist and the fact that he has Billie Eilish’s Your Power on it, applying your thought process, does that mean that JK is trying to tell us he went through something similar to Billie? That he is sad? Or do you think he simply recommended that song because he likes Billie’s music? The last one seems the most likely, doesn’t it?

So, to sum it all up, there is absolutely no need to worry, seriously.

Admin 2: In the evenings, when it's very quiet and my big city has fallen asleep, I really enjoy listening to Sweet Night. I also like to go back to 4 O'Clock from time to time (although I know I will cry). Does that mean I missed my chance in life to be with my beloved? No and no again! I've never been in a situation like this, I wasn't unhappy or "fragily" in love, no one abandoned me or cheated on me. I listen to these songs because I love them. They match the mood of the evening and calm me down despite the sad lyrics and let me fall asleep peacefully.

I am a person who listens to a lot of songs from the past; Songs that remind me of situations, remind me of years of studying, enable me to relive certain situations.

Dear Anon, thank you very much for your question (confession), but I admit that I see it as "looking for some kind of backdoor" so to speak, a way to create a loophole and deny everything after all.

I don't know who you are, I don't know if you really are a Vminnie, but I think you are clinging to any possibility of a situation to undermine the reality or existence of Vmin. That's how I see it, if I offend you, I apologize. The more we get new materials about Tae and Jimin every day, like them being cute in the McDonald's behind the scenes, the more such "sad thoughts" we get sent to us through asks every day.

Firstly, I'm not sure if Jimin (and Taehyung) is fluent enough in English to capture the accuracy of the lyrics and understand its message. Of course, you can translate it, but for that to happen first the song has to catch your attention, and usually it's the melody and the overall feeling of a song that does it, and not the lyrics. And that is the point!

I think Jimin picked these tracks because he simply likes them. Perhaps he first paid attention to the melodies and the mood and only then understood the lyrics sometime later.

A lot of people (including me) hear some kind of song instead of another because they are intrigued by the melody or the association with a particular situation. The mood that fits the moment, the weather, the time of day or many other things which lead us to choose this song and not another.

Maybe Jimin and Taehyung were driving at night and listening to the song on the radio, maybe they were in a romantic mood back then, just having dinner together or taking a half bath together. Ha ha, I know I am deceiving and romanticizing what I am saying to reflect the vast possibilities and reasons why you listen to music like this and no other. Jimin putting together this list of songs for his spotify playlist doesn't mean he listens to it all the time, every day, but that he has the songs he likes on his list and chose the ones he wants to hear right now, or that he thought ARMY could like.

Of course, I'm sure he listens to very different songs during exercising than the one lying in bed before falling asleep. Maybe he's listening to this list, just like we hear the songs from BTS? We know individual words after repeating them several times, and we generally know (as we decide to read translations) what is going on in a particular song, but we don't understand all the words accurately. Not all of us are in the same situation as described in a particular song, but still we listen to it because we like it, because BTS sings it, because we are waiting for a solo from Suga etc. etc. etc.

For some time now we have been seeing (I see) Vmin happy, even very happy, as if "after the night the day came and after the storm came peace" (by the way, these are the words of one of my favorite songs), I have the impression that Vmin have finished fighting all their fights and they are just happy now, finally. Taehyung looks like a million dollars, he's literally glowing and far more lively than he was a year ago.

To him, Jimin is like smooch like butter and someone he likes the most. Taehyung is a handsome and hot chingu for Jimin who he also likes him the most as well. Tell me dear Anon, where is there room for fear and doubt in the love they share? Why and on what basis do you suspect that Vmin has broken up, or is having problems, or that either of them is unhappy? Besides, if one of them has an off day or is simply tired after a packet schedule and thus doesn't look as animated, why is that immediately read as "Jimin and Tae aren't together anymore" or "they are drifting apart" when chances are far more likely that it has nothing to do with their bond? Based on the playlist, or based on Vlive, or maybe based on both of these events, what is the correlation?

I've seen the Vlive. To tell the truth, I didn't see a sad and pouty Jimin there. Instead, I saw Taehyung smiling and content, and Jimin smiled and admired Tae's new hairstyle. I watched the latest BTS interviews. Vmin stared at each other, Jimin stared at Tae with a big smile that only grew in size and the two communicated with their eyes.

Jimin caressed Taehyung's back/butt in the Butter MV making Episode and said there’s butter here (though it wasn’t translated in the subs).

In the McD ad they were together and standing next to each other, even with Jimin resting his head on Tae's shoulder and then Jimin eating Tae's chicken nugget from his hand.

Honestly, I don't know what else Vmin would have to do to keep people from doubting their bond and happiness. They have shown us so much, I think they have reached the limit of what can be said without saying it bluntly.

Most importantly, this is a very interesting situation as we have never had as much "dubious news/content" (not meant negatively at all) as we have now after Taehyung's interview with his ‘confession’/clarification about Sweet Night. To me it smells a bit like someone wants to cause fear or plant the seed of doubt, or be like a trojan horse with the underlying idea of course being that "well...we must be wrong" even though there’s no reason for us to believe/think that.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 4 | S.R.)

Summary: Spencer and Reader go on their first date. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW 18+) Content Warning: Adults w/ Age Gap (10yr), exhibitionism, masturbation, fingering, spanking, penetrative sex, Prof/Student fantasy Word Count: 8.3k

MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist

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When I was younger, I hated going to museums. Granted, I'd only ever really had the opportunity to go during school field trips. The crackling, barely coherent ramblings of a stranger through a loudspeaker had never been my idea of fun.

In fact, I'd been to that exact museum before. But the present time was a little different. That time, I was enthralled with the objects on the other side of the glass. With wide eyes and childlike wonder revived, I was hanging on every word out of Spencer's mouth.

I knew the guy was probably a genius, but I had no idea how much of a genius he was until he was recounting the entire history of civilization like he'd been reading straight from an encyclopedia. He looked like a hilarious mix of proud and embarrassed when he finally admitted his IQ. Meanwhile, I had to admit that I not only had no fuckin' clue what my IQ was, I was certain it was significantly lower than his. 

He didn't seem to mind.

In a way, I thought it was strange when he told me he wanted to bring me to a place like that. After all, I'd told him I wanted to learn more about him. I figured a museum would teach me about everything else, not him.

But seeing him in this environment told me more about him than I ever could have imagined. I learned about his avid love for the most trivial facts, the way his inflection changed when he got excited, and that despite reading probably hundreds of thousands of books, his hunger for knowledge was still very much alive and well.

Most of all, I learned that Spencer Reid was unlike any man I'd ever seen before.

It was a bad idea. Because when we finally made our way out of the final exhibit, I didn't want to leave. Not even close. If you'd told my mother I spent several hours in a museum and didn't want to leave, she'd never believe you.

"Hey, so..." I started, pausing outside the gift shop on our way out. "It's almost 5. Did you want to grab dinner before we head back? I have worked up quite the appetite listening to you for the past 4 hours."

"Has it really been that long?" he asked incredulously before glancing down at his watch wrapped over his shirt.

I tried very hard, and failed, to suppress a giggle at the habit.

"I'm honestly surprised you still have spit left in your mouth," I joked as I swayed closer to him, almost enough to touch him.

"Ha ha, very funny," he replied. A slight pout formed on his face. I almost enjoyed the swapped roles; it wasn't often that he was the one who looked so forlorn.

"Come on, I'm joking!" I laughed before slipping my arm around his and pulling him closer to me.

Spencer glanced down in surprise, staring at my chest that was now fully pressed against his arm. Although, the way he looked at me was nothing compared to the response he'd given after I showed up in a pleated skirt that better belonged on a Catholic schoolgirl.

But I mean, like I'd said, I used to go there on school trips. It was only fair.

"I love listening to you talk, Spencer. You know that."

The speed with which he looked away when I finished talking was enough to tell me that I had said the wrong thing. His goofy, playful demeanor vanished so quickly, I'd almost gotten whiplash. He didn't remove his arm, instead clearing his throat and pulling out a brochure from his pocket to look at nearby places to eat.

A bit reserved, he asked if I was interested in one of the closer casual restaurants, to which I agreed. At that point, I removed myself from his side and was only a little surprised to see the way his body immediately relaxed.

I wanted to believe he just didn't like to be touched, which I was certain was true, but he was behaving differently with me than he had before. We'd touched in public before, a lot more than that, and we'd known each other a lot less!

But of course, that was probably why. The closer we got, the farther away he felt.

The walk to the restaurant was slightly awkward, so after a moment I decided to break the silence.

"You said you grew up in Vegas, right?"

"Yeah, until I moved to go to school," he explained, looking around at the surroundings of the D.C. crowds winding down rather than turning his attention back to me. 

At least I was finally learning more about him.

"Where did you go?"

"Caltech."

He was keeping his answers short, but I feel like he might still be a little embarrassed at my little jab at the museum. That was fine, I knew ways to make him talk. I clasped my hands behind me as I walked by his side, still tempted to touch him somehow, however ill advised.

"Was it hard being away from your family? That's a few hours away, isn't it?"

He laughed awkwardly, a sure sign that I'd forgotten that him and I come from different worlds.

"Well, I was barely 13, so... My mom was kind of legally obligated to follow me."

He was so cute, and he definitely wasn't aware of it.

"Right, sorry, forgot about the genius thing for a minute. Don't know how."

The smile he returned was genuine, which helped my guilt for bothering him yet again. But in my defense, it was easy to do when he was a literal genius and I was barely scraping by half the time.

As we arrived, we were seated in a booth near the back of the restaurant. I offered him the booth with a view of the door because I'd figured he would want it. He gave me a strange side glance at my assumption, like I was hiding something from him that would grant me the knowledge that it would be more comfortable for him to be able to see the door.

I didn't want to talk about how I knew that, though.

Instead, I asked, "Do you like it here? In Virginia?"

He nodded as he flipped open the menu, speaking almost scripted answers absentmindedly, "I do, but mostly because it's been so long that everyone I know is here."

I'd already been here before, so I didn't bother looking at the menu. Naturally, he'd only required a few seconds to read it. When he made eye contact again, I spoke through my thoughts.

"You said you're a profiler for the..."

"Behavioral Analysis Unit."

His tone was a mix of pride and nerves, which immediately made me nervous.

"I haven't looked it up yet because I'm scared about what I might find. What do you guys do, exactly?"

The server brought us drinks just in time to pause his answer, which he seemed to appreciate. I figured it was either a tough job to explain, or he didn't want to share that part of his life with me just yet (or, potentially, ever). 

Spencer lowered his voice like he usually did when he talked about work.

"We profile the behavior of serial killers. Sometimes for research, but mostly to assist local police in catching them."

"Oh..." I started, stopping mid-sip of my drink. It was a lot to take in at once. "So... yeah, I'm glad I didn't google it."

He scrunched his mouth in that unsure way, like he wanted to explain to me how he really felt about his job. Something in the bags under his eyes told me he hasn't talked about this in a long time. At least, not like he should. But he didn't talk about it. He looked away, opting to say nothing at all.

"Doesn't it get to you?" I pushed, trying to offer him the platform to talk about the thing that no doubt consumes most of his life.

"Does what get to me?" His voice sounded so far away.

"Spencer, when I met you, you were whisked away at the crack of dawn to go talk about serial killers. On a weekend. The second time you showed up at my place after clearly not having slept, I'm guessing straight from work..."

His eyes narrowed as I spoke, like I was talking from a tightrope that I could plummet off any second. He seemed scared that I would speak something into existence he wasn't ready to face himself.

"You're surrounded by evil all the time. You're responsible for learning, recognizing, and manipulating evil. That can't be easy."

Spencer's eyes were glazed over in a way I couldn't describe. He seemed defensive, steeled, and absolutely terrified. He wouldn't look me in the eyes, opting instead to stare down at the menu in front of him.

He shrugged as he halfheartedly concluded, "I guess that's one way to look at it. We also get to see a lot of good."

"Yeah..." I nodded solemnly, recognizing the dismissive thoughts from my own experience.

He was downplaying the great likelihood of traumatic memories he carried, as if he could will away the damage. Like it would stop existing if he could convince himself it wasn't that bad.

I wondered what had happened to him on the job for him to already have forgotten that things didn't have to be the worst possible to matter. That he still deserved better. That hurt does not require permission.

I couldn't stop myself, needing to see how he reacted when I continued, "But which do you see more of?"

I never got my answer. The server once again saved him from a conversation that got away from him. The presence of a third, impartial person shifted the mood back to what it was in the museum. I wondered how much was an act, both back then and in that moment.

Deciding it best not to dwell on the thought, I tried to forget about the darkness brewing in those coffee colored eyes. Once our orders were in, he turned his attention to the cocktail menu still laying in the middle of the table with a smile.

"I'm almost surprised you didn't try to order alcohol," he half-joked.

I leaned forward on the table, bringing a hand up to my mouth and whispering, "I heard there might be an undercover fed here, so, never can be too safe."

The bubbly, childish laugh that followed renewed my faith in him. He had that kind of infectious laugh that made you forget that badness existed at all. Once our ruckus had died down, he looked at me with the softness that had drawn me to him in the first place.

"You're cute."

When the words registered in my mind, I couldn't believe I'd heard them. The way his expression changed shortly after the words left his mouth told me he hadn't meant to say them aloud. But their effect on me was not at all stifled by his momentary lapse in judgment.

I'd wondered if it was getting hotter in the building, or if it was just my nerves getting the best of me. But it wasn't bothering Spencer, who was about to down yet another cup of coffee in front of him. I cleared my throat, trying to not look like a schoolgirl whose crush had just checked 'yes' on a note asking if he liked me.

Pointing to the mug in front of him, I joked, "How do you sleep?"

"Honestly? I usually don't."

That was the goofy overly literal dork I wanted to see more of.

"I can think of one way to wear you out," I suggested, lifting my leg to press the top of my foot against his leg under the booth.

He raised his eyebrows, giving a simple glance down to acknowledge the contact. Then his eyes were back on me, staring deeply with a hunger that would not be satisfied by whatever dish they brought out to us.

"I can think of several."

Humming cheerfully, I continued to run my foot up and down his leg. My cheeks flushed with my growing desire that I'd managed to put off for several hours. I was honestly shocked that I'd spent the whole day with this man, and only then thought about sleeping with him.

"It's too bad we can't," I pouted. "My roommate is back in town. Not sure she'd appreciate all the noise."

That time as my foot drew up his leg, he shifted in his seat so that his legs moved closer to me, extending the contact for a few seconds longer.

"Not to mention, I don't think you'd like to deal with several 20-year-olds."

The way he behaved whenever I pointed out my age was endlessly entertaining. That time, though, he seemed significantly less bothered.

"One is already borderline for me," he teased back.

I gasped, clutching at my chest as I batted my eyelashes just dramatically enough to showcase my pride.

"You flatter me, Dr. Reid."

He almost choked on his coffee as he stifled a chuckle, putting it down as he shook his head.

"Only you would take that as a compliment."

Recognizing this repartee as the foreplay it had always accompanied, I leaned forward on my elbows towards him. He immediately mirrored the movement, putting our faces much closer to each other than they'd been all day.

"What can I say? I enjoy being a challenge."

"Yes, you do." He hadn't even thought about it, responding almost instantaneously, suggesting once more that he could actually read my mind.

"How are you so good at that?" I kept the question vague on purpose.

He didn't fall for it.

"I'm good at a lot of things. Which are you referring to?"

What a cocky bastard. A very handsome, ridiculously sexy, dork of a bastard.

But he wasn't the only one at the table that knew how to get someone hot and bothered.

"Your humility is my favorite part, Dr. Reid." I stuck my tongue out at the end of the sentiment, a cheeky grin that reflected on him just as quickly.

"Quoting me? That's bold."

Deciding it had been too long since I had touched him, I lifted my hand to press a single finger against his chest as I taunted, "You aren't the only person with a good memory."

He leaned back at this point, backing away from my finger and the heated exchange.

"I don't have a good memory. I have an eidetic memory."

He had been very proud of that fact earlier when I asked him why the hell he was able to list off every single word from a museum display we'd seen an hour earlier. I'd asked him if it was the same as a photographic memory, and he'd gone on a rant about the pejorative connotations of the term. I wasn't going to go down that rabbit hole again today.

Instead, I took the same hand that had touched him moments before, curling all but one finger into a fist.

"So you'll be able to remember this forever?" I cooed as I held up my middle finger.

"I'll just file that away with the most important memories, like birthdays and the works of Arthur Conan Doyle," he sighed in response, graciously admitting defeat.

I was not brave enough to tell him I had no idea who that was, but I was sure I'd learn one day. That one, I thought, was probably safe to google. While he filed away my crude gesture, I filed away yet another fun fact to surprise him with later.

"You are, by far, the most interesting person I've ever met," I implored, to which he immediately shot back, "I could say the same about you. And I regularly talk to serial killers."

Touché, Dr. Reid.

"I'm flattered," was the last word I got in edgewise before our food arrived.

The rest of our time in the restaurant went very similarly, with teasing comments that built the sexual tension that was already too big for this tiny room. Our legs never stopped touching throughout the entire meal. Maybe that was why, when it was finally time to leave, we both felt a strange mixture of excited and sad. Once we were no longer behind the booth, it was back to pretending like we weren't constantly trying not to pounce on the other.

The walk to the metro was equal parts long and tense. At one point I'd swayed closer to him than I intended, and our sides brushed up against one another. Unlike before in the museum, he hadn't moved away. I couldn't believe something so minuscule could made me so happy.

The metro was more crowded than I'd anticipated. The fact that the station is underground was usually enough to make me feel a little claustrophobic, but the number of people bustling around me felt especially overwhelming. I couldn't help but chastise myself for having worn a skirt, considering the stark number of perverted men in places like these.

Spencer's touch woke me from my reverie. His arm had wrapped around my lower back with such unassuming delicacy, I'd hardly registered it at first. He was looking down at me with concern covering his features as he asked, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, sorry, there's a lot of people here."

I had one hand holding my skirt down against my leg, the other crossed over my chest.

"Makes me nervous," I further explained.

"Can I help?"

Even though he was offering, I could tell the crowds bothered him just as much. Thankfully, his presence was enough for me.

"You already are."

There was something so calming about his presence that was hard to explain. It wasn't his ability to physically protect me, considering he didn't  have his weapon with him most of the time I was with him. It wasn't his emotional availability (or lack thereof). It was more like he  exuded some chemical that made me docile. It was hard to explain.

I just liked him, okay?

When our train pulled in it was relatively crowded, but we managed to grab two seats near the back of a car. I sighed in relief as I plopped down into the plastic chair, happy to finally be able to rest my legs.

With Spencer on the aisle seat and us on our way back to Franconia Springfield Station, I let myself relax. My head dropped down onto his shoulder without much thought, and my entire body slumped over with it.

"How am I supposed to stay awake for this when you're so comfy?" I mumbled, looking down at the hem of my pleated skirt as I fiddled with it.

"That certainly sounds like quite the predicament," he said in what I assume was jest.

He sat up, bumping my head off his shoulder for a moment. I interpreted it to be a subtle way of telling me not to do it, but once he had shrugged off his cardigan, he looked at me like he was confused I hadn't resumed the position.

Armed with a simper, I cuddled up even closer this time, wrapping my arms around his and resting my cheek against his shoulder. I wasn't sure why he had gotten so open to touch, but I wasn't going to complain. 

He didn't say anything when he draped his cardigan over my lap, covering my knees peeking out from under my skirt. A nice gesture, I thought as my body instinctively gravitated towards him. It wasn't until I closed my eyes that the pieces started to come together.

I was on the metro, in a skirt, with Spencer Reid's hand slowly but surely inching up my thigh.

My eyes shot open, and I tensed my grip around his arm. It was the only thing I did to betray my otherwise composed and unassuming position.

His breath was hot on my ear as he leaned over to me and began to whisper, "Do you know the idea that people fall asleep after sex is less true for women than men? Many speculate it's because women are just neglected in bed, but that's not quite it."

I didn't dare respond, hardly trusting myself to breathe as his hand continued to move closer to me.

"Both sexes do release the same chemicals during orgasm. Oxytocin to stimulate smooth muscle contraction and initiate the need to bond, prolactin to relieve arousal and signal satiation, and the leftover gamma aminobutyric acid, dopamine, and serotonin..."

I couldn't understand how he'd managed to make the lecture sound sexy, but I was too lost in the sound of his voice to bother thinking about it then.

"Still, women are less likely to fall asleep. Sure, they typically exert less physical energy during sex, but what about those women like you with a penchant for going for a ride?"

A woozy, lovesick smile spread across my face at the reference to our first encounter.

"Those women might still stay awake for longer and may actually be more invigorated after reaching climax. And it's all thanks to their naturally lessened refractory period."

I nodded dumbly, gasping lightly once I felt his fingers make contact through the flimsy cotton of my underwear.

"Which might sound like a curse. But it's not. It means that those lucky women can reach multiple orgasms in succession. Some partners just aren't willing to put in that kind of effort," he continued, tracing a finger up and down my folds through the fabric.

"But I'm not one of them."

His words were strong, and I buried my face into his shoulder, trying not to alert the entire car what was happening underneath his cardigan.

"I would much rather watch you come undone. Again, and again, and again. I want to make sure that when I'm done with you, you can't keep your eyes open."

My breath was getting quicker, and I let out a small squeak against his shirt as he pressed down on the bundle of nerves at my center, drawing circles around it.

"That being said, if you need something to keep you awake, I do have a solution. But if you make a single noise, I will stop."

I had to bite down hard on my bottom lip to prevent any noise from slipping out. My legs were wavering between opening and closing as I tried to keep them apart. I could feel how damp I was getting. My hips were moving with a mind of their own, rocking toward his hand. It took all of my concentration not to give us away.

I choked on my breath as a sly finger snuck into the side of my underwear, allowing entrance to the others that followed.

"Shhh," he hushed, pressing a soft kiss on the top of my head. Underneath my skirt, though, he was much less chaste. Slipping two fingers into my heat, I could have sworn I heard him laugh from above me.

I didn't dare look at him, nervous that the moment I did, I would lose all control.

"I had no idea it would be so easy to get you to follow directions. Are you that worried you might get caught?"

He could feel my heartbeat against his arm. He must have been able to, because I was suffocating against his arm. My hands clenched around him like he was the only lifeline in an ocean of pleasure.

"Imagine what they would think if they knew what you let me do to you. What you beg me to do to you."

My legs were beginning to tremble around him as he stroked me from the inside. All I could feel was him. His hands, his breath, his words.

"Is that why you wore this skirt? A naughty little schoolgirl fantasizing about an older man touching you like this?"

He quickened the pace of thrusting into me, his words getting more insistent as the train was almost empty now, closing in on our stop.

"Is it everything you thought it would be? No. Can't be. You wish there was something else of mine in between your legs."

I couldn't explain how, but my climax snuck up on me. When it happened, it smashed into me like a wave crashing onto the shore. I gasped for breath against his arm, and he thankfully took mercy on me. Despite definitely making a noise, he continued his motions, palming at the crest of my folds to give me one last boost of stimulation.

I shook around him, my thighs tightening onto his arm as I finally found release. I could hear the announcement calling for our station, but it felt worlds away. Still, Spencer pulled his hand out from underneath our pile of clothes, wiping the evidence of our escapade against the inside of my skirt before also removing his arm from underneath my tight grip.

"Son of a bitch," I puffed, relaxing all my muscles at once as I tried to retain control over my pulse. I could barely think straight.

"You're welcome," he beamed, as if he hadn't just gone full dominant as he finger fucked me on the metro.

I didn't understand how the hell he expected me to get up and walk off like nothing happene, but somehow, I managed. I stood with wobbly legs and a flustered state of mind until he linked his arm with mine and led me off the car and into the station. I clung to the assistance, grateful that he was once again taking pity on me.

However, it felt like it wouldn't last long. Once we'd gotten to his car, he helped me in before climbing into the driver's seat. It was silent for a moment, like he wanted me to ask him a question that I wasn't willing to ask.

I didn't want the night to be over, but if he asked me if I was ready to go home, I'd have to say yes. After all, it wasn't proper form to invite myself to his apartment. Especially with how weird he got whenever I got close to him.

"Do you want me to take you home?"

The pity was gone.

I didn't think before I spoke, immediately responding as a joke, "Not unless it's yours."

The silence was back.

Oops.

I realized that I'd spoken out loud at the same time he delivered his response; I was going to stop him, but he was too quick.

"My place it is, then."

I couldn't help but smile, my cheeks burning as I asked quietly, like my volume might change his mind, "Really?"

"Sure, why not?"

I didn't have an answer. We didn't talk for a moment, enjoying the contented silence as I texted my roommate to tell her that I was going to be late home, if I came at all. I was hoping for the latter. Once that was sent off, I returned my gaze to the man paying almost full attention to the road.

"You know, I have to get you back for what you did back there."

He smirked, not breaking away from the road as he replied, "I did you a favor."

"A cruel favor," I whined, turning in my chair as I buckled my seat belt so I could get closer to him.

"No such thing," he corrected, although I think we both knew there very well could be such a thing.

"Uh-huh."

I watched him for a moment, trying to decide the best way to get back at him. I could always try the most relevant payback...

He didn't even notice my hand reaching out until it was already sliding up his thigh at a rapid pace.

"What are you doing?" he asked, as if it weren't already obvious.

"Getting you back," I snickered as I finally made it up his leg, palming the quickly forming erection under his pants.

"I'm driving!" His voice was so high pitched it was heartwarming. It was like our roles had switched, even just for a second.

"I'm not stopping you from driving!"

Obviously trying to compose himself, he grabbed my wrist and held it in the air and out of reach of him.

"Unless you want to crash this car, you'd better wait until we get back to my place."

It was a valid warning, but not one I wanted to hear.

"Spoil sport."

"At least you're alive!"

It was back to the sexual tension from before in the restaurant. I wanted to touch him, and I was guessing based on the visible tent in his pants, he wanted me. So, I got to thinking, and I figured that if I wasn't allowed to touch him, that only left one other person.

"... What are you doing?"

It was a valid question. He'd glanced over to see my hand traveling up my own skirt as I parted my legs just enough to maneuver beneath my underwear.

"Nothing," I hummed, now looking at him with half-lidded eyes as I rocked forward onto my hand.

"That's cruel." He sounded so devastated to see that I was doing what he couldn't, despite the fact he had his hand in this exact spot not that long ago.

My fingers dipped between my folds, collecting the remnants of the orgasm he had given me as I crooned, "What? You said I couldn't touch you while you're driving. I'm not touching you. You're welcome."

I opened my eyes just enough to see the way he tightened his grip on the steering wheel while trying not to look at me. Couldn't drive distracted. That was the entire reason why I was touching myself and not him.

"Unless, of course, you do consider this part of me as your property. In which case, I'm not going to stop, anyway," I snickered. 

Rewarding myself with a soft moan, I tried to prolong the experience the best I could. It was hard when every couple of seconds he would look over at me. I hadn't thought that I would find his anger that attractive, but there I was, coming apart at the seams already based on nothing but a look. 

He was thoroughly unamused, which only egged me on, honestly. I didn't care if I was being overdramatic as I touched myself, I wanted him to think about what he was missing. Which was why I didn't stop myself from moaning. Pants and gasps echoed throughout the car as I picked up my pace.

"I hope you're ready for the consequences of this very poorly thought out decision."

On the contrary, Spencer. I had very clearly thought it through. I was thinking it so clearly I could picture his hands where mine were, among other parts of him.

Thinking about how to dig an even deeper hole for myself, I found the perfect mechanism.

"Mmm, Professor Reid," I cried, recognizing that it would either infuriate him or bring him a great sense of pride. I was fine with either.

I closed my eyes so I could better envision the fantasy that was actually just a memory. For now. With my eyes closed, I couldn't tell much of what was going on outside of my touch, trying to ignore the man beside me as best as I could. I wanted him to suffer.

Spencer, however, had other plans. With both eyes still on the road, his hand had found its way to my legs, where it shot up to join mine. He removed my hand quickly and replaced it with his own.

There was no subtlety or warm up this time. Without any hesitation, he dipped a finger into my heat just to remove it and begin rubbing harsh circles over my clit. I couldn't stop the yell that resulted, and seconds later I came undone against him.

As soon as the spasming stopped, he removed his hand, not speaking a word or even looking at me. I'd realized at that point that he'd only finished me off because he hadn't wanted to grant me the satisfaction of doing it myself. He was asserting that yes, in some sense, he viewed this as a part of his property.

I was oddly okay with that.

"Is the silent treatment my punishment?" I asked with a pout after a few moments of nothing.

He laughed bitterly back, finally looking at me for a moment before vaguely replying, "No. Your punishment will be much more fun for me."

I had to admit the implication that the silent treatment wasn't fun for him was flattering, at least. I was glad to hear that he enjoyed talking to me as much as I enjoyed listening to him talk.

But for the moment, I was sort of exhausted. Not in the way that would make me fall asleep, but in the I-just-had-two-orgasms-let-me-recoup way. Even though we enjoyed talking, those moments were refreshing in their own way. The best kind of connections were the ones that could always be maintained, even in the quiet.

Despite it not being my punishment, Spencer remained fairly quiet the rest of the way home. I wondered if part of that was due to him brewing a plan for what would happen when we got there.

God, I hoped so.

As we pulled up to the nondescript building, I had to admit I was a bit disappointed to find Spencer didn't live in some whimsical fantasy like I'd always envisioned. The building looked like every other one. But, at the same time, I couldn't want to see the inside. If I had to bet, there would be a lot of books and a stark lack of computers.

Walking into Apt #23, I was only a little surprised by what I saw. The warm green tones of his walls were complimented by red and brown accents, and my theory was quickly proven correct.

"Whoa," I mumbled under my breath, "It's like a library."

"You must go to some pretty small libraries, then."

I rolled my eyes. Like his usual attempts at humility, Spencer failed horribly.

I spun around on my heels to face him, but at the same time as I heard the lock flip into place, I felt his hand around my arm. Spencer's movements were quick as he gripped tightly on my wrist and pulled me towards what I could only assume was his bedroom.

Weirdly, I was still trying to take in my surroundings rather than focus on fucking him. It made sense, I figured. I had already experienced two orgasms today, whereas he had none.

Oops. Guess I really was a spoiled brat.

But seriously—I was in his apartment! I wanted to snoop, dammit!

Spencer wasn't going to give me an opportunity, though. He'd even made a point of shutting the door to his room once we were inside. Something told me he would keep a close eye on me as long as he could. That was probably deserved, considering that within the first few hours of interacting with him, I had answered a call from his boss.

In my defense, it had been fucking hilarious.

He led me to stand in front of him, and out of instinct and habit, I moved forward to kiss him. I never made it to his lips, though. Spencer pushed me aside toward the bed, and I laughed as I leaned over it, making a point of flipping up the back of my skirt.

"I've been bad, Professor," I giggled, turning to glance back at him from the position I had happily assumed without being told.

He had that dark fire in his eyes that usually came before a storm.

He looked like he was ready to break me. I was ready to be broken.

"Are you going to teach me another biology lesson?"

When his hands touched me, they were as tender as ever. He caressed my hips where I had turned the skirt up, hooking his fingers around the waistband of the underwear and casually removing them.

"No, I'm afraid not."

He sounded delighted despite the words he spoke.

"This will be a very different kind of lesson."

Oh, I realized all at once.

"A lesson in discipline?" I inquired, swaying my hips underneath his hands and waiting for confirmation.

The loss of his hand on one side caused anticipation to build. I could hear the sound of blood rushing in my ears.

It was hard to tell which happened first. Instantaneously, his hand came down hard on the soft skin of my backside as he responded, "Yes."

The adrenaline that coursed through my veins in response shook any feelings of fatigue I might have sustained throughout the day. I welcomed his body heat against my back as he leaned forward against me, and used his weight to press me down into his bed.

"Unless you've changed your mind."

"No!" I shouted back much too forcefully before gripping onto the sheets in front of me. "I deserve to be punished, Professor Reid."

He withdrew from me and, within seconds, brought his hand down on me again, that time striking the other side. The snapping sound of the contact was enough to elicit a response. I clamped my legs together and gave a soft mewl. Appreciating my vocal response, the next two hits came in rapid succession. I could feel the warmth building in the skin, the breeze from the motions acted as a buffer for the delicious sting.

He roughly grabbed both cheeks in front of him, for no reason other than wanting to. I groaned at the sensation of the tender flesh being handled, which only led him to release one to smack it once more. He followed with the other, appreciating the balance required of this particular punishment. I wasn't going to stop him. I was happy to continue. But something told me that he was breaching the point of comfort in his own conscience.

He was always so worried he would break me. I couldn't say it wasn't endearing. That didn't stop him from giving each side one more forceful blow, however, which earned him a mangled cry from deep in my chest. His body was against mine again, one of his hands reaching around to tilt my head up, despite not being able to see him. I was beginning to think he just enjoyed manipulating my body at will. To see how far I would let him.

"I think you're starting to get it, (y/n)."

"Yes," I responded, not caring if it didn't make much sense in response.

Despite the fact he'd already finished me twice today, I somehow already wanted him again. Maybe it was the allure of finally being able to fuck him in his own bed, or maybe it was the desire to see him fall apart as a reminder that I'm not the only one desperate for the other's touch.

So quickly he returned to the gentle, barely there traces along my skin.

"Punishment looks good on you," he praised, and something about the way he said it filled me with pride.

"You look good on me, too, sir," I slurred as he continued to draw feathery markings on the abused skin. He chuckled, finally moving up along my back before I interrupted his thoughts and appreciation once more.

"Fuck me," I begged. I wanted him and didn't care how I got it. "Let me help you feel good."

The hands that had inflicted pain moments ago were now gently massaging my shoulders through my top. I sighed, relaxing further into his touch. So easily I had become complacent to his desire. I let him do whatever he wanted, trusting that he would never do anything to truly, honestly hurt me. 

"Something tells me you're more interested in making yourself feel good," he asserted — quite correctly.

"Can't we have both?"

His silence told me he was considering my words. I knew that he didn't want to, since that would ruin the whole idea that this was a punishment in the first place. Then again, I didn't think he was fully committed to that idea anyway.

Dragging his hands once more down the plane of my back, he stopped to grip my hips and shift me backwards until I was pressed against him.

"You're lucky you look so fucking cute in that skirt," he growled.

I felt dizzy again already, drowning in the way his bed smelled like him.

"Mmm, I wore it just for you," I admitted, rubbing myself gently against his crotch now pressing into my bottom.

"Smart girl," he responded.

It felt like I was in a dream, to be there with him like that. For a long time, I'd thought I'd never see him again, let alone be laying on his bed.

I could hear him stripping behind me, and I peeked over my shoulder with a modest smile.

Time was not moving fast enough, I thought, but it was also moving too fast. Because as badly as I wanted him to ravish me, I was afraid what would happen when it was over.

I couldn't think about that in that moment, though.

Once he reached into his nightstand, I giggled with anticipation. He raised his eyebrows at me, unable to contain his own laughter.

"Oh, you're happy with yourself, huh?"

"A little bit, yeah."

When he returned to me, his hands were still gentle as they pushed my skirt back up where it had fallen. He revealed my body to himself, and I didn't have to be able to see it to know that my arousal spread down my inner thighs. I had, after all, already had two orgasms before now thanks to the man behind me.

"I'm also pretty happy with you," he whispered as he leaned over me.

With no warning, he fully entered me with one swift thrust. I whimpered at the feeling of him hitting against angered skin, mixed with the pleasure of being full once again. I clutched at the sheets and wished that they were him, wishing that I could somehow be even closer to him than I already was. 

"We'll see if you still feel like smiling after I'm done with you."

It was the last thing he said before he began to ruthlessly pound into me. I struggled to scream as loudly as I wanted to, but I couldn't make any noise at all. My body seemed to have relented all control to him within seconds; I didn't put up a single battle. Although his grasp held me in place, I still attempted to cant my hips forward to allow him better access.

My chest and face were warm with friction from rubbing against the bed, and my knuckles were blanched from the force exerted to try and remain grounded. Each movement seemed so purposeful, much like the way he thrashed at my skin with his hand.

"Fuck me," were the first words I managed to string together.

With one forceful thrust, he held me down on him as all the moans I couldn't make previously came pouring out of me. I thought I might actually cry from how overstimulated the day was  becoming. Seemingly reading my mind, Spencer pulled out of me entirely. I tried to reorient myself, but he stopped me. Using one hand to grab hold of my arm, he flipped me onto my back beneath him.

I hadn't even realized I was still wearing basically all of my clothes until he had to force my skirt back up again. Missing him between my legs, I began to crave him everywhere else, too. I struggled to pull my shirt over my head.

Spencer didn't stop me, just watching while he playfully rubbed his arousal at my entrance.

"Please, sir," I pleaded once I was finally able to lift my legs. I wrapped them around his hips and pulled him closer to me without letting him slip into me just yet.

"Just as impatient and needy as ever, (y/n)."

I chewed on my bottom lip, looking up at him with the puppy dog eyes that had always worked on him up to that point. It must have worked again, because he was sinking back into me before I knew it. My arms spread out across the bed, holding onto whatever I could reach as he set another brutal pace.

Our bodies melding together in a chaotic fusion of skin and fluids, I let myself get lost in the bliss of Spencer Reid laying claim to my body. I threw my head back, my eyes clamped shut as one of his hands came up to caress one of my breasts through my lacy bra.

"With undergarments like this, I have to wonder if you planned this all, young lady," he teased, no doubt referring to the matching underwear now discarded on the floor.

I opened my eyes to meet his, and for a second I was left breathless at the sight of him pumping into me. How I managed to say anything at all is a miracle.

"Never a plan, sir. But always a pleasure."

A flirtatious sparkle in his eyes, he slowed down as he pressed, "Did you wear them for someone else, then?"

The way I arched my back caused him to push even further into me, and I had to pause to moan before I continued.

"Are you jealous?"

His hips snapped forward, producing a simultaneously jolt of pain and pleasure. His voice was breathy as he tried to hold himself together while speaking, "Should I be?"

Our eye contact caused tension so powerful that I was certain it was palpable. A devilish grin and a bit of a snicker was the provocation he needed to drive into me harder once again. I didn't even try to suppress the noises he elicited from me, tightening my grip around him with my legs.

"Take me," I whispered under my breath, almost hoping that he wouldn't hear me.

I couldn't tell if he did, but his hand switched sides of my chest, and our faces grew closer together.

"I'm yours," I slurred. I truthfully hadn't thought about the words when I gifted them to him, but he clearly took note of them. That time, it was his moan that filled the air in the room, and I had never felt so excited by one of his responses. I chased after the feeling, locking eyes with him as both his hands grabbed my hips to begin the race to the finish.

"I'm yours, Spencer."

I didn't stop to wonder if I could play this off as part of the fantasy. I mean, it was part of my fantasy; the fantasy of being his, and him being mine.

He didn't object to my words then, either, and he had definitely heard me that time.

I smiled, barely noticing that he'd placed his fingers back on my heat, swiping frantically at my clit until I lost all composure underneath him. My hips rocked at no apparent rhythm, and distorted versions of his name broke through my mouth.

I hadn't even come down yet when he rammed into me with full force, bottoming out once again. I felt his cock twitch inside of me, followed by my muscles pulling everything out of him that they could.

The view of his satisfied face through my lust-filled daze was angelic. It appeared that he saw the same in me, but I couldn't be sure. Just as quickly as the moment had come, it had passed, his arms giving in to his weight as he collapsed onto my chest.

His hair tickled my collarbones, and I laughed at how incredibly out of shape he was. Especially for an FBI Agent. Even if he did go on the field often, I figured the resident dork didn't need to be totally ripped, anyway.

And, hey, he was strong enough to treat me like a ragdoll, so who was I to judge?

"Tired?" I asked, taking a shaky hand to his head, playing with the soft brown curls damp from sweat.

"You aren't?" he slurred, his words smothered against my skin.

"I am fucking exhausted."

That time, we both laughed. He was clearly pleased that, despite any perceived weakness, he was still able to thoroughly wear me out. When he moved to leave me, I dropped my legs. I was surprised I had managed to hold them until then, honestly.

He fixed his hair that had fallen in his eyes first, and I smiled at the peculiar priority. It was cute, though.

"Do you have to take me home?"

I tried not to let the disappointment bleed into my voice, but it did. He tried not to notice. He didn't answer as he cleaned himself up, and I sat up to look at him — once the world stopped spinning, anyway.

"No."

The butterflies spiraled out of control, spreading through every inch of my soul. I must have been beaming, because he looked so very nervous.

"Thanks."

His response came in the form of an unsure smile, followed by a genuine appreciation.

I briefly wondered if he realized just how transparent he was, but then decided I didn't want to think about it. I excused myself to clean up before bed, taking a long moment to rub my skin with aloe from under the cabinet, only to realize that I had basically nothing clean to wear. I rolled my eyes at the situation, wondering how many red flags it would set off for me to ask Spencer for some of his clothes.

I could just be naked. He seemed to like me that way.

I padded back into the room, expecting him to be waiting up for me. He wasn't. Spencer had passed out on the bed before he even had a chance to get under the covers. I stood at the door for a moment, trying to appreciate the value of this quiet moment while I still could.

Stripping off my clothes as quiet as possible, I was careful not to wake him. However, that also meant I couldn't climb under the covers, either.

It isn't exactly snooping if I'm looking for something innocent, right? That's what I had to tell myself, regardless. Because I was not going to freeze my ass off over a hookup's paranoia. Glancing at the dresser, I almost convinced myself it wouldn't be an invasion of privacy to open it. Luckily, I didn't have to. Directly next to it was a hamper of clean, folded laundry, with a pair of boxer shorts and a t-shirt on top. While disappointed that I had lost my excuse, I was grateful I had stripped myself of the choice.

He deserved better than me trying to pry into his life like that.

Slipping into his clothes, I stopped to hug myself in the soft fabric. With him asleep, I felt comfortable taking a moment to revel in the position he'd allowed me to exist in. I was in his apartment, in his clothes, and I would soon be back in his arms.

For now.

I chased the inevitable end out of my thoughts, slinking onto the bed and shimmying over to him until his hands found me in his unconscious state. I faced him, my hands pressing softly against his chest to feel his heart happily working under my touch.

His eyes fluttered open for a second, just long enough to see the wonder in my own. A smile crept along his cheeks, and he wrapped a lazy arm around my waist.

I wondered if he recognized his own clothes, or if he even realized this was real. Then again, the alternative was him assuming that it'd all been a dream... and it was a pleasant one, it seemed. 

"I'm happy," he confirmed in a hushed tone.

My heart almost stopped, and I peeked up at him, inching up so I could better see his face. His breathing evened back out as I felt the way he relaxed, quickly retreating back to the comfortable embrace of sleep.

"About what?" I whispered back.

Our legs twined together, and a soft sigh left his lips. I waited with bated breath  for his response, although I don't think I could have ever been prepared for what followed.

"I'm happy that you're mine."

... What?

 —————————————————

| Part 5 |

[cowboyshit]

twenty questions

tagged by: @dustofinsanity (thank you so much my dear!!!!!!)

what do you prefer to be called name-wise? honestly I’ll probably answer to most things as long as they aren’t mean. but ash, ashley, doe, those seem to be the solid three I’m known by around here when is your birthday? november 30th!  where do you live? in a tiny, backwoods cow-town smack dab in the middle of california three things you are doing right now? filling this questionnaire out, eating dinner I just finished cooking, and petting sadie with my foot since she’s curled up at my feet after she finished her dinner four fandoms that have peaked your interest. I guess I can go with four I’ve been heavily involved with, even though there’s plenty more than that since I’m a little fangirl at heart, but wrestling (obviously), black sails, the night shift, and pirates of the caribbean how has the pandemic been treating you? uh, I mean, it hasn’t been great and I’ve had to deal with some pretty bad shit as all of us have, and probably some of my worst mental health battles I’ve had to face in about a year or so, but honestly? I just kind of count my blessings these days. lucky to still be employed, even if my pay got a little cut it was nothing that keeps me from paying my bills. all I had to do was take away a few luxury things to make ends meet, and that’s a lot, LOT less than other people have had to do. so yeah, it’s been pretty shitty, this year has been bad news after bad news both personally and globally, but whatever. it could be worse. a song you can’t stop listening to right now? it is no-joke like a four-way tie. a bunch of good songs were in my discover weekly and I’ve been playing four of them on non-stop repeat one after the other. oh! and one my best friend showed to me. this baby don’t cry by k. flay, rock bottom by grandson, ok ok by hoko, and insurgents by the poolside by denny recommend a movie. i’ve jumped into holiday mood early af because tbh I need the holiday cheer, so keeping in that theme, I suggest the holiday with jude law because DUH how old are you? thirty! school, university, occupation, other? had some college, been working in my current career for the past ten years. hoping to pursue a promotion finally since my supervisors have been telling me for the past eight years that I need to promote do you prefer heat or cold? cold pleeeaaaase! I’m a radiator and put off heat like nobody’s business. I’m always warm. name one fact others may not know about you. this is hard because I just constantly blab everything about me, and I have two people who literally know EVERYTHING about me lmfao uhhh I guess... something people may not know... uhhh... on my dad’s side of the family one half was ashkenazi jewish who had to flee germany to avoid the holocaust, where they went to live in italy, while the other half were nazi’s committing some pretty bad stuff that my family won’t talk about, even to this day. funny how two descendants eventually met in america and fell in love, huh? and when they DID fall in love one of them was half italian and in the mafia! so I always joke that my bubbly cheerful self is a descendent of some pretty evil shit, and it feels like a nice little stab at those shitty ancestors of mine. are you shy? uhhh yeah and no??? like. I think I’m shy, since all interaction terrifies me and exhausts me, but everyone tells me I’m a social butterfly? and I’ve noticed in places I’m comfortable and confident, I do tend to be less shy and more involved and interactive? but I think I can be shy. a lot of waiting for other people to initiate because I’m too afraid to, struggling to talk or carry a conversation at times... I don’t know I think I’m overcomplicating this answer LOL preferred pronouns? she/her!  biggest pet peeves? gatekeeping, to be perfectly honest. I stopped following wrestling back in 2014 because when I first tried to get into the fandom, someone was trying to gatekeep a wrestler I also liked and had started making content for and they made me feel like shit for liking them, and I absolutely hated it. that’s why it took me an entire two years of quietly lurking in the wrestling fandom before I finally got brave enough to come out of the woodwork, and I’m grateful I’ve been so well received this time around. but now I’m hyper-sensitive to gatekeeping and I fucking hate it. no joke. and since it’s a pet peeve and I’m irked just remembering all that bs I went through, ima say I’m only a part of fandom to share my love of whatever that thing is with other people who love it too. I can’t stand anyone who thinks they have some sort of “claim” over a celebrity or a show or anything. get a different identity that isn’t wrapped up in that thing and stop seeing it as a threat when other people like it. be happy someone else is as passionate about that thing as you are and make a friend. damn. what is your favorite “dere” type? I’m pretty sure this is something with anime or that originated from anime, right? unfortunately I don’t know what they are so I can’t say LOL I don’t even know if I’m right about it coming from anime tbh rate your life from 1-10, 1 being crappy and 10 being the best it could be. 4, 5, but I’m putting in the foundation now and working to make it a 6, 7, or possibly 8 by a year or two from now. what’s your main blog? funnily enough? this one. my OTHER blog that was my main blog since I joined tumblr in 2009 got shoved to the side for this one last year LOL I assumed I’d log onto this blog once in awhile, but now it took over my whole damn life so here I am I guess list your side blogs and what they’re used for. I’m going to be fair and ONLY list my active ones because I have a few side blogs from when I role-played on tumblr that I haven’t touched in over a year. @doedreamss is my non-wrestling blog that WAS my main blog before this one, @cowboysht is my archive where I am ONLY putting my original gifsets/analysis/fanfiction so that one day I can offer people a blog of just my original work and no other posts (the queue is very slowly catching up I think I’ve queued posts up until june this year), @illfatedandstarcrossed is just a non-frequently used outlet for me to mope and dump emotions when I get sad about my relationship things (like a diary! but... public? and not my original thoughts? LOL), and then I have one more blog but it’s locked and private and it’s LITERALLY my diary where I can just vent when I got shit I wanna get off my chest but don’t necessarily want people to see it. Is there something people need to know about you before becoming friends? I probably won’t talk to you daily, tbh. I may not even talk to you weekly. socializing takes a lot out of me, on top of an already energy draining day-to-day in my personal life. I have a handful of people I connect with who I talk with frequently, but unfortunately as much as I’d love for it to be endless, I have to keep that list short for my own sanity. my infrequent conversations mean absolutely nothing about my lack of interest in you or how much I care about you. my granny once said I would be the perfect friend for someone you only want to talk to twice a month and she thought she was insulting me, but deadass I just said “YEAH! EXACTLY!!”

tagging: I really like this one so I WANT to tag people, but I feel braindead and also just want to post it cause I feel like I am definitely gonna forget to tag someone tbh aaaaahh okay okay I’m just gonna throw some names out there but please don’t feel pressured to do this (it is TWENTY questions) @kennyhoemega, @champbucks, @superkickparty, @adampage, @hintsofsunshine, @audreyhrnes, @sheslikealostflower, @lancearchers, @champnick, @janelanutella, @edgecution, @superrezzy00, @wardl0w, @writinglionqueen, @orangechuckiet, @hungmanhorsecarriage, @icouldbesus, @thatnerdwriter, @rampagewriting, @snarkandsarcasmftw, @tetsuyainthesky AND I DUNNO JUST ANYONE WHO WANTS TO OK I LOVE YOU ALL BYE

[incorrect-hunterx-quotes]

Update and story time:

I thought I would pass along an update to you guys. My sickness did not start off great. It started on Monday morning and very rapidly progressed by Tuesday afternoon. I was unable to eat or drink anything for 3 days because my throat was incredibly swollen. I couldnt even swallow my own spit so I would wake up every 5 minutes gagging, so I eventually stopped sleeping.

I went to Urgent Care and they gave me the diagnosis of incredibly Enlarged Tonsils and they gave me antibiotics and steroids to take to treat it. (This was on Tuesday night). The next morning I woke up and I couldn't talk. That is how swollen my throat became. I was no longer able to take my pills because they were too big. I was able to breathe, but it was hard. After a brief consult with a doctor he said to take the steroids immediately and go from there. (The steroids were the size of a literal crumb and it was still a struggle). He also said if it didn't help to go to the ER to get an IV bag because it had already been 2 days without food or water. I spent the rest of Wednesday literally hoping the steroids would kick in and help...they did not.

That night at around 2am I decided I wouldn't sleep because I was scared of gagging every 20 seconds. I spent the next 4hrs just curled in a ball against my desk on the floor spitting in a trashcan and listening to music to keep calm. (I'm am a 25yo male, over 6'3 and decently built, not scared of anything beyond Spiders and Heights, and I was a nervous wreck)

The next morning (Thursday) I heard my mother wake up and I went to her and begged her to take me to the ER. They took me immediately and quickly got me hydrated with an IV bag. Immediately I felt the effect and it was like I just woke up. I had energy, And I actually had color returning to me. I had lost 7/8 lbs at this point because I couldnt eat or drink.

They kept me in the ER the rest of the day and they gave me a 2nd IV bag and different steroids and antibiotics injected directly into my IV line. Within an hour I could speak. It wasnt that my throat was magically opened, but the one word I was able to say on Wednesday had magically became full sentences on Thursday, even if it was really low volume compared to my usual speaking voice.

They took the Big C-test (negative) and a CAT Scan later on, and that's where things got scary (-er). The CAT scan revealed that just beyond the enlarged tonsils was a 4-inch abscess, which would possibly mean surgery to deal with.

While surgery was unclear, I would need to be transferred to a different hospital 20 minutes away where they were better equipped to deal with my situation. I finally arrived at like 3am (Froday morning) and get all checked in. I get the routine blood draw and vitals stuff and then get told to relax while the specialist finished with his other patients. About 4:30am this guy comes in and was like "we're gonna take care of this right now." And I'm like "....what?"

So he was explaining that he could drain part of the abscess and then let antibiotics and steroids do the rest of it. It sounded like a good plan. I was already in better hands and I was on my way back to normal strength. So we agreed.... and that's when I quickly learned to hate this guy.

I warned him I have an incredibly strong gag reflex, and he said it wouldn't be an issue. He'd put lidocaine (a numbing agent) on my throat and tongue and itd be fine (it wasnt).

So now here I am at almost 5am, after being awake for almost 25 hours at this point, lying on my back with a bright light on my face, 2 nurses and the doctor on all sides and not enough nerves in the world to stop from shaking like a chihuahua on a massage chair in an earthquake. And not just little nervous shaking. They were powerful shakes.

It took one touch and my gag reflex was active. I was gagging the entire time. I threw up. I was screaming and crying. I accidentally bit the main doctor guy because he tried to keep my teeth open for the needle (I refused to apologize). I had such powerful shakes that my mother needed to hold my legs. She hasn't seen me this scared in 20 years when I used to have nightmares every night. And that was only after ONE OF THE TWO drains that needed to be done. I wanted to cry more and vomit and die. I couldnt do that again. But he insisted. I asked if there was a different way. There was no way I could be conscious for this again. I already knew I'd have nightmares from that (and I did last night). But he said there wasnt. So the 2 nurses and my mother braced me as I lay on the bench crying, shaking and gagging, with blood spit and pus coming out of my mouth, while this doctor finished the other draining. It was agonizing. I haven't been this scared in over 15 years. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemies. It is like I was in one of those horror movies where a doctor just tortures patients. I wanted to cry and cry.

They soon told me I would be admitted to stay the night and that they would keep me on steroids and antibiotics overnight while they waited for things to improve. I felt asleep after being awake for 28 hours that night. The only thing on my mind was when I would have to drain the rest of the abscess.

When the doctor came in the morning to discuss what was up with the rest of the treatment he basically said "why didnt he put you on morphine or something?" ...I was speechless. So when I brought it up to the next one she said the same thing. As did the next 3... I could've avoided that trauma instead of having to do it like that.

So I ended up not needed to get the remaining abscess drained. The antibiotics and steroids they have had hooked me up to all day has been taking care of it. WITHOUT THE NEED FOR TRAUMA2.0!!! By noon I was drinking water on my own, I was even speaking louder. By 6pm i ate my first solid food since Monday nights dinner (Friday). By 8 I was on the phone with my friends talking like nothing had changed.

So I've been recovering steadily and rapidly. I should be able to leave and go home by tomorrow night. And then I'll be back at 100% shortly after.

I just wanted to thank you guys for all your messages and words of support that I've been getting these last few days, and to take a few minutes to explain what I've been dealing with these last few days. I want to thank you guys from the bottom of my heart for everything you've said. Truly, you guys and gals in this community mean the world to me.

Once I'm home I'll take a little time to get settled and we'll keep going as if this little "unplanned vacation' never happened. Take care and much love to everyone!!!

[rosesvioletshardy]

life as we know it - b.h. chapter 4

you guys are in for a treat this chapter also sorry for the long wait on this i’m finally done with the semester and i don’t think i will be able to take all my classes online ever again it’s literally the worst but yeah i’ll hopefully will post more

i don’t think i’ve said this but for sean i’ve based him off of armie hammer’s character in nocturnal animals in a way i guess like looks wise

but anywho y’all might need some tissues for this

ps: note i am american so i don’t know exactly how the laws are in england and i tried my best to search them up

masterlist

summary: when their best friends die, it’s up to ben and y/n to take care of their goddaughter and face the challenges  that come with it 

# of words: 3,465

warnings: angst

taglist: @myfatbottomedgirls , @evemarie05

message me or inbox me if you want to be added to the taglist

-----

Things have been different for y/n and ben ever since they hooked up at new years. secrets that didn’t mean to be revealed were revealed. it caused a great amount of weird, sexual tension for them whenever they were in a room. it took their best friends a while to understand what happened between them.

They’ve ignored every possible situation and haven’t talked about it since christian and lennon found out about it and went back to seeing whoever they were originally seeing. at first sean wasn’t happy that she kissed ben and went back to his place instead of it being him but he quickly let it go and they’ve been together since and promised to tell each other everything. Occasionally there were times where sean didn’t allow her to go anywhere that ben would be and it was almost constantly unless he was with her. sean trusted her but sometimes he didn’t, but she didn't mind but it meant she understood where he was coming from. ben didn’t like it at all. he didn’t like how someone can force another person to stop seeing them and it took a toll on their relationship and their jobs as godparents. 

the tension also affected their personal relationship. they didn’t make any sly remarks back to each other, most of the time when they talked, they had one worded answers to each other and it depended on if there were other people with them. ben would sometimes go to her bakery and every time he saw her, she looked miserable, or from what he could tell. whenever she interacted with customers she would have this smile on her face and it was real, she loved her customers whenever they entered her shop and bought something or just to come and work. she wouldn’t give up her shop for anything else in the world. she didn’t know if it was because of what happened or it was her relationship with sean was the reason. y/n knew what was going on but she couldn’t bear to tell anyone or else she 

now she was working and helping customers, until ben walked in. this was the fourth time in a row during the week that he's come in and she’s managed to avoid him every time he came in by going in the back and helping tyler and the other bakers or by going into her office. She did a good job at avoiding him but today they were short staffed and she couldn’t ask anyone else to take over the front so she’s stuck having to talk to him. ben could see the look in her eyes that she was trying not to talk but he needed to because not talking for weeks was killing him and he didn’t even care what they talked about, so he walked up to the counter and started to order

“Hey”

“hi, welcome to Eats ‘n’ Treats, how can i help you today?” she asked trying to avoid ben

“listen we need to talk”

“no, we don’t. we were both drunk and i don’t want to talk about it. now, are you going to order something or not? you’re holding up the line” she said as they both look behind him to see no one there

“that’s bullshit and we both know it. i know you really don’t want to be with him and you keep putting yourself over this and pretending everything is fine when it isn’t. please. i just want to go back to how things were, me annoying you and you ignoring me at every point you get. c’mon, please.” he pleaded tears already pooling his eyes

“no. i’m sorry but i’m perfectly happy with sean and how everything is. now please, either order something or just leave.”

“fine. i’ll just take a coffee.” ben told her already paying

the two didn’t say anything else to each other after their encounter at the bakery. they both continued their day and never talked to each other, not for even any small talk. y/n was back at her apartment cooking dinner for both her and sean. there was a voice in her head telling her that there was something wrong and that she needed to do something about her situation but she ignored it, just like all of her problems. snapping out of her thoughts, she heard a knock on her door. putting everything in its place and soothing out her outfit, she opened the door to find sean.

“hey! how are you?” she asked him stepping away so he could enter

“i’m good, you? it smells great in here.” sean told her giving her a kiss

“i’m good. well i just finished making dinner”

“so, how was your day?” “it was good, you know the usual. people come in, order treats and baked goods. how was work for you?”

“it was tough, got a new case today about a couple wanting a divorce and jesus it’s a tough one. i’m defending the wife and she’s a workload. saying it’s the husbands fault their marriage came to be what it is.” sean said cutting into the piece of chicken before continuing

y/n wanted to say something but she knew if she did, she wouldn’t hear the end of it.

“did you see ben today? i thought i saw him leaving your shop when i was coming back from my lunch.” 

“no, i must’ve been in my office or in the back baking. could’ve been someone who looked like him” she told him taking a small sip of her water knowing what would happen if she told him the truth

“hmm. alright.”  

the night went on with the both of them soon cuddling on the couch watching some tv. y/n wasn’t paying attention because all she could think about was what ben said to her. she did feel miserable and she didn’t regret what they did but she had to. the night went on until the both of them went back to her room for the night. 

the same routine carried on for another month. wake up, work, home, date night, sleep. every now and then she would be with lennon and she could see the pain through her best friend's face. lennon had asked christian to talk to sean to make sure everything was alright with them because she knew that something was wrong. when christian had reported back to her, he had said that everything was fine and nothing was wrong with their relationship at all.

“no that can’t be right. listen, i know her. Something is wrong with her. i mean ben had called me god knows how many times or asked me whether she was happy with him. After new years, they stopped talking to each other and she avoids him every time they’re near each other or when she’s with sean. i don’t know anymore. i just want what’s best for all of us.” lennon told him as she set charlie down for the night

“look,, i love her too, but we can’t fight this battle for her and we can’t do it for ben either. we have to let them solve it on their own. i’ll talk to sean again. if he gives the same answer, i’ll do something. i promise.” christian told her holding up his pinkie

lennon only sighed and then laughed at her husband. she knew he was right as much as she wanted to admit it. she took his pinkie and promised him she wouldn’t interfere with the relationship. she knew that y/n was strong and could fight her own battles, but she desperately wanted to help before something bad happened to anyone. 

ben was in his apartment, practicing over lines for a new movie. while going over them, he couldn’t help but think about his last encounter with her. after his years of acting, he could tell whether someone was acting or lying, well not so well, but he knew the difference. he threw the script across the room causing frankie to look up at her owner and start whining. ben looked at her and gave her the signal to jump onto his bed.

“i don’t know frank. i know that something is wrong but she won’t tell me. did you know what one of the last things she told me? she said she regretted what happened and i know she didn’t but i can’t force her to say what she really feels. this sean guy, i’ve seen him. at the wedding last year. Didn’t think that they would be dating by now. i just thought it would be a one night stand but every event that lennon and christian have, he’s always there even before they started dating. he wasn’t even one of the groomsmen, just a guest.” ben started to rant before he looked down to see frankie sleeping 

“alright then, i guess i’m talking to myself now.” ben told himself and slowly got out of his bed carefully to go eat seeing he hasn’t eaten all day.

everything seemed to go smoothly up until one night.

y/n and sean were on another date, christian and lennon finally got to have a night out since charlie got sick on valentines’ day and they had to postpone it, and ben was out with his friends but didn’t feel like drinking and decided to be the sober one this time.

when lennon and christian left the restaurant they took a small walk before going back to their car and back to see charlie and make sure their babysitter went home safely. on the way back to their home, a driver didn’t see them clearly and hit them causing both cars to crash. people around them started to call the cops and everyone tried to surround them to see what had just happened. y/n and ben were busy until an hour later they both got phone calls telling them to go to the police station. they didn’t know why they were being called at a late such a late hour 

“sorry sean, this will be quick.”

“Who is it?”

“the police.” she told him as she got up and went to somewhere private to talk 

“what do the police need with her?” sean asked himself confused before going back to his food

“Hello?”

“Hello is this y/n l/n?”

“yes this is she. may i ask why you’re calling?” 

“it’s best if you come down to the station. is there any chance a ben jones or hardy is with you?” the woman asked

“no he isn’t with me at the moment.” she told her confused on why they would need ben 

“alright. thank you. we’ll see you soon.” and just like that the phone call ended 

y/n walked back into sean’s dining room before she started to look for her things frantically

“everything alright? what did they need?” sean asked after seeing her worried state

“i-i really don’t know. i just needed to get down there and they didn’t say anything.” she told him opening her purse to look for her keys.

“hey, it’s okay. i’m sure everything's fine and that it was just a mistake. now c’mon, i have this dessert you’re absolutely going to love.” he told her smiling

“no it didn’t sound like a mistake i could sense the sadness in her voice. i’m really sorry sean but i have to leave. i’ll call you soon” she told him giving him a kiss on his cheek and leaving his house

the call to ben worried him as well, first he was listening to his drunk friends tell a story and then he got pulled out mid conversation by his phone ringing

“who is that? is it that one girl you’re obsessing over jonesy?” his friend teased

“no it’s not and i don’t obsess over her piss off. it’s the police” ben told them as he started to leave the table

“oh shit what’d you do?”

“Nothing that i know of. Now shush.” ben told them as he answered

“hello?”

“hi is this ben jones?” the woman asked

“yes this is he”

“we need you to come down here. we have some news.” 

“What’s this all about?” 

“It’s better if we tell you in person”

“alright. i’ll be there soon.”

ben turned his phone off before grabbing out his wallet and paying for the drinks and giving extra so his friends could call a cab

“where you going?”

“the station. they said it was important and they needed to tell me in person. i’ll see you guys soon. don’t drink too much, there’s extra for a cab” ben told them putting his jacket back on and leaving 

“alright then, see ya mate.”

ben walked back to his car and drove to the station. he couldn’t help but feel this wave of anxiety rush over him. he didn’t know what could have happened that would cause him to go down there but he knew something wasn't right.

as soon as he parked his car, he saw y/n’s car and wondered why she was there and it caused his panic to rise even more thinking it had something to do with her. rushing in, he looked around before a police officer stopped him seeing him confused and looking around.

“hi can i help you?” he asked

“yeah, um, i was called and told to be here. my names ben har- i mean jones” ben stuttered out

“right, follow me.” 

ben followed the officer to a secluded hallway with chairs against the wall and an empty desk and saw y/n pacing back and forth biting on her nails. when noticing two faint shadows, she looked up from the tiled floor and saw the officer who brought her there first and ben as well. she wasn’t sure as to why ben was there until his voice snapped her out of her thoughts

“hey you okay? what are you doing here?” he asked her grabbing her arms checking for anything

“i’m fine and i don’t know. they called me down here and i thought there was a mix up.” she told him

“then why did they call us here?” ben asked before the officer spoke up

“you both know lennon and christian wakes, yes?” 

“yeah, they’re our best friends.” she told him worried something might have happened

“they were stuck by a drunk driver causing both cars to crash and flipped.” the officer told them and gave out a deep sigh before continuing

“the officer at the scene, found both of your names and numbers on an insurance card in mrs. wakes wallet. i’m sorry, they didn’t make it.”

in that moment, y/n felt like her legs turned to jelly as her stomach dropped when hearing those words. ben quickly noticed and grabbed her and sat her down on one of the chairs before she fell to the ground

 “now, we need numbers for the nearest next of kin. Can you supply those?” he finished

Neither one of them could breathe properly and already had tears falling from their eyes

“yeah-, um, you said the car flipped? it-it flipped when it hit the-they have a daughter. a baby.” she managed to squeak out before ben interrupted her

“charlie um charlotte. was she in the car with them?” ben asked knowing y/n wouldn’t be able to

“no but because she was in the care of a minor, a babysitter, when the accident occurred. so the officers placed with the NSPCC for the night. she’s perfectly fine.” 

“NSPCC?” y/n asked still not used to the fact she was living in another country

“National society for the prevention of cruelty of children.”ben said not wanting to look up

“where they take cases like this. she’s perfectly safe.”

when they found out that charlie was safe, ben and y/n let out a thoughtful sigh, but it didn’t stop them both from crying.

“what do you mean by cases like this?”

“Orphaned children”

when the officer told the two that, it caused them to break down even more. the thought of their best friends gone and their daughter without any parents hurt them too much to even move. the officer left to give them their privacy. ben hugged her as they both continued to cry into each other's arms.

“they’re gone. i don’t want them to be gone. this has to be some sort of sick joke. it’s not real..” she cried out

“it’s not. it’s-” ben managed to choke out

after staying there and crying for a few more minutes, they both managed to get up and walk out the station. she went back to her car and began fumbling through her purse looking for keys before dropping it causing a few things to spill out. ben noticed her behavior and decided that she wasn’t stable enough to drive and went up to her.

“c’mon i’ll take you. you can’t drive in this condition.” ben told her sincerely as he sat down next to her on the ground. 

y/n didn’t argue with him and only nodded before getting up and following ben to his car. the entire ride back to their friends house was silent with the occasional sniffles from them. when they arrived, they stayed in the car before getting the courage to walk up to the door. she took her spare key and put it up to the lock, missing it the first time due to her hands shaking before ben lightly grabbed her hand and helped her. they stepped inside and turned the lights on to see how it was left before christian and lennon, and their babysitter left. there was a laundry basket in the hallway filled with charlie’s clothes and bibs, her toys on the floor in the living room, everything in the kitchen neatly put away.

as they stepped into the living room, y/n took as seat on the couch, and ben got out his phone 

“who are you calling?” 

“NSPCC” 

“they have charlie and she’s safe. Ben-”

“What?” he yelled at her

“i’m sorry. i just need to make sure.” he whispered as tears started to form in his eyes again

y/n didn’t say anything but instead nodded in understanding. a million thoughts began to run through her mind until she started to cry again. 

“no, i-i just don’t understand why we can’t see her tonight. Listen no, ma’am i don’t care about your protocol or any policies. this-yes. i will be here at this number and i suppose you have her godmother’s number as well? yes.” ben said into his phone then hung up

“they won’t do anything. not until 8 tomorrow morning.” ben said pacing while running his hand through his hair

“okay, you heard what they told us. she’s fine. we can’t keep thinking about the negatives as much as i want to admit it.” she told him. she understood where he was coming from and wanted to feel the same way but the both of them knew they had to stay strong for the three of them and that this isn’t what their friends would want them to worry about.

“i know. i know. it’s just everything that has happened between all of us, i can’t stop thinking about what would’ve happened if charlie was with them.” ben sighed out before continuing

“we have to stay here tonight, that way we’re here in the morning if they call, and i just- i know that if i- i just can’t be alone right now and i know you can’t either.” he finished

he was right. she knew that if she went back to her apartment she would feel empty while knowing her other half was gone and she needed to be with someone who cared about her.

“yeah. okay.” 

“go and take the guest bedroom” ben told her

“okay, you can take their room if you want.” 

“no, i don’t think i can do that. i’ll just sleep over here.”

“are you sure?”

“yeah. i’ll see you in the morning. goodnight y/n.” ben told her as she started to walk away

“goodnight ben.” y/n said with a whisper as she turned around and looked at him  

as ben sat back down on the couch, he picked up the stuffed animal that he gave to charlie a month after she was born and smiled down at it before putting it on the coffee table. he then laid down after fixing the pillow before he started to cry all over again, as she was doing the same in the guest bedroom before they soon fell asleep hoping that it was all a bad dream and that christian and lennon would call them the next day inviting them for a barbeque.

[missaudreyhorney]

(Almost) Every Idea Ever

Although I rarely ever finish writing a fic, that never stops me from getting new ideas for them. Terrible, horrible, dumpster fire ideas. Okay, some of them are wholesome on occasion, but mostly it’s just filth. I've excluded a couple of things because either they were just too awful to mention or I’m currently working on them and I want it to be a surprise.

The first story I started to write this year was original fiction but with the main male character heavily inspired by Jim Hopper. It was about a recently married young woman having an affair with her father-in-law. This really set a precedent for the rest of my ideas and should indicate to you the level of depravity on this list.

Hopper x Reader:

Hurts So Good series - In 1982, Reader is Mayor Kline’s daughter and has a crush on Chief Hopper. She decides to pursue him and things don’t go quite as planned but they still end up having steamy, rough sex. A secret affair begins between the two of them but it eventually leads to heartbreak. Heavy emphasis on Dom/sub and pain kink. - Initial pursuit, fingering in the car, sex (60%) - Phone sex the following day (70%) - Rough sex, bordering on consensual nonconsent (partially written) - Introduction to Daddy kink (notes) - Body worship (notes) - Bruise kink (notes) - Facesitting (50%) - hurt/comfort throatfucking, an argument, angst/fluff (75%) - Orgasm denial/control (70%) - Possible gunplay? (Unwritten) - Disciplinary spanking (notes)

Dress You Up series - In 1985, Hopper meets plus-size!Reader at JCPenney when he comes in to pick out a shirt for his date. After Joyce stands him up, he decides to come back and ask Reader out instead. Probably the cutest idea I’ve ever had for smut. Inspired by flamehairedwritings and flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash. - 1st meeting, 2nd meeting, date, sex (50%) - 2nd date, a continuation of My First Drabble (partially written) - Meeting El and she’s standoffish (notes)

Domestic Smut - Reader and husband!Hopper are at the cabin alone together one weekend. After breakfast, she tries to wash the dishes but the sink is broken, the water squirting everywhere. A water fight turns into a tickle fight which turns into kitchen table sex. (50%)

Hopper blindfolding Reader during sex at the cabin (Notes)

Hopper blindfolding Reader during a blowjob in his office at the police station (Minimal notes)

Hopper rubbing a popsicle on Reader’s body then licking it off (Minimal notes)

Hopper coming over to Reader’s house, unannounced, late at night, in the rain, for a quick rough fuck. Inspired by one of the pictures from the Playboy shoot. (Partially written)

Licking Hopper’s hand and arm veins to get his attention while he reads the Sunday newspaper. (Unwritten)

Sucking Hopper’s cock while he smokes a cigar on the porch and either ignores you or looks at you with disdain. Inspired by a compilation video of David smoking a cigar on Instagram Live. (Unwritten)

Consensual nonconsent fantasy where Hopper touches Reader and tells her to say no to him while he’s making her cum. Rough, forceful sex immediately follows. (Partially written)

Bootlicker - anti-cop Reader has a secret fetish for cops and Hopper is more than happy to oblige them and keep quiet about it. (Notes)

Working out my own personal issues via smut, bigender-questioning AFAB Reader puts on Hopper’s uniform shirt and hat. Much to their delight, he says they look like a boy. He also says “If you’re going to dress like a boy, I’m going to fuck you like one.” Basically just incredible anal sex while Hopper calls Reader a good boy. Extremely niche subject but the fantasy of this is so affirming to me, I can’t not think about it. (Notes)

Hopper x Reader requests

A sequel to Little Magnum where the dog is a few years older. There is maybe also a cat? (Unwritten)

Fire & Ice - Reader is playing in the snow when it’s getting dark outside. Hopper tells them to come in but they don’t listen. Reader falls and hurts their ankle then Hopper gets angry at their disobedience. Not because he’s a jerk, but because he can’t imagine his life without Reader and doesn’t want to lose them. Angsty hurt/comfort. (~70%)

Replacement idea since Fire & Ice was much too angsty - Reader gets stung by a bee and Hopper freaks out. Reader is fine but he babies them nonetheless, because again, his greatest fear is losing them. Very cute and silly. (unwritten)

Freezeframe - Reader bought Hopper a Polaroid camera for his birthday and he hasn’t used it months later. Taking matters into her own hands, she uses the camera for some naughty selfies. Once Hopper finds the pictures, he decides to assume the role of photographer and gets some very intimate shots of Reader. (80-85%)

Morning Wood - Reader lets themself into the cabin early one Summer morning and sees Hopper in bed, fully nude, just a sheet covering the part they want to see most. Hop wakes up, invites Reader into bed with him, and a blowjob ensues. Very detailed description of his body. (Notes)

Hopper gets injured and needs Reader to patch him up. She gets pissed though for him being in yet another dangerous situation where he yet again gets hurt. Reader reprimanding him leads to confessions of feelings which leads to sex. (Unwritten)

Reader has been feeling ignored by Hopper lately and decides to make him jealous to get his attention. She flirts with another man at a bar while Hopper watches and seethes with rage. He punishes her by dragging her into the parking lot then spanking over the tailgate of his Chevy Blazer. Rough sex and more spanking goes down back at the cabin. Based on my jealous!Hopper headcanon post. (Partially written)

Principal Hopper  - One of the worst ideas I’ve ever had, which is saying A LOT. High school principal Hopper catches one of his 18-year-old female students spying on him between classes and confronts her about it. Sexual tension bubbles up until neither of them can control themselves. Based on a fantasy told to me by a friend who I will not name. (Notes)

Hopper x Reader AUs

Messing Around With Jim series - A continuation of The Big Game, Afterschool Special, and Third Time’s A Charm. Modern!Hopper and Reader having all kinds of sex. - Fingering, gentle sex, tender orgasm control (50%) - Period sex, vibrator (Notes) - First blowjob, a continuation of A Sampling (partially written) - Hop eating Reader’s pussy for his birthday (minimal notes) - Fingering in the car, truck bed sex (notes) - Another blowjob, rough sex over the hood of a car (partially written) - Pussy eating at the park (notes) - Hop not understanding FaceTime, fluff, smut (unwritten) - Roleplaying how they met, sex at Reader’s parents house (notes) - July 4th fingering, rough sex, surprises (notes) - Remote control vibrator (partially written) - More pussy eating, this time in Hop’s cutting edge shirt (partially written) - Yet another blowjob, this time in a movie theater (unwritten) - Jealousy resulting in overstimulation/”forced” orgasms (notes) - 4 part miniseries about butt plugs/anal sex (notes) - Confronting her parents, angst (55-60%) - Learning about Sara, ANGST! (notes)

Vacation series - modem!Hopper and Reader go on vacation together. That’s it, that’s the plot. Idea from David’s Croatian vacation pics and conversations with Tayler. All just notes at this point. - Christening the hotel bed - Bratty Reader getting semi-publicly punished - Hopper taking care of drunk!Reader, humor, fluff - Double date

carpenter!Hopper - Reader is recently divorced and hires Hop to make repairs on her house before she sells it. Graphic detail of him doing manly things like sawing and hammering. Porn with plot. Inspired by another friend, she knows who she is. (Notes in the form of a 500-word summary)

Detective Hopper - various bits and pieces of ideas inspired by David being digitally handcuffed to Darren Criss and Michael Stuhlbarg in Vanity Fair, plus a few pictures in 2016. (Unwritten)

Captain Hopper - a collaboration with @pkg4mumtown. She said she was thinking about fire captain!Hopper rescuing her from a burning building and I told her my pre-existing firefighter idea of being saved and then wanting to thank him in a variety of ways. Things snowballed from there and I decided we need to write it. Mostly just notes so far. - Initial meeting, first date, sex - Second date, making dinner together, sex

Hopper x Joyce:

There is a list of my Jopper ideas (Various degrees of notes)

Teenage Joyce and Hopper meeting in high school and their relationship that follows. Maybe a oneshot? Maybe a series? (Notes)

Hopper x Billy: (Over 18-years-old and no longer in high school!)

1940/50’s AU - Hopper meets expat Billy at a cigar club while on vacation in Havana. A familiar face, so to speak, in a foreign land. Hop pays Billy to take him back to his apartment and “keep him company”. Maybe two chapters? Inspired by a photo of Dacre Montgomery in GQ Germany. (Partially written.)

Hopper catches Billy “renting his time” at a truck stop outside of town and threatens to arrest him, but Billy bribes him with sex. (Unwritten.) I’m sorry but there’s just something about the idea of rent boy Billy that I absolutely love.

Hopper + Billy + Reader - completely implausible threeway (Unwritten)

David Harbour RPF:

AU where instead of being an actor, he’s a drama teacher at a high school in New York City and the kids from Stranger Things are his students. Pure fluff. (Please write this for me!)

Giving him a blow job before an important event. TWO different versions. Inspired by numerous photos of David wearing a robe. (Minimal notes)

Riding his thigh and everything that entails. Inspired by a picture of David from GQ Mexico. (Minimal notes)

touch-starved!David hires a sexworker during the pandemic because he’s lonely quarantining by himself. No sex. He literally just wants a hug and someone to be affectionate with him. Unconventional fluff. (Unwritten)

Other DKH-related shenanigans:

Let’s Ride sequel - Reader goes on a second date with Deacon from SoulCycle, they go out for sashimi and end up at his place. He has a cat that he inherited from a neighbor. Reader teaches him how to put her in a chokehold. (Unwritten)

Alexei Shostakov smut - some type of Bond Girl situation where Reader has to seduce him. Just an excuse for me to lovingly describe his large tattooed body in vivid detail. (Unwritten)

The Stranger - Reader has an ongoing affair with a mysterious man whose name is never mentioned. They meet at high society functions and hook up in fancy hotels. One night, he finds out that she’s married and punishes her for her dishonesty. Inspired by a photo of David looking annoyed in a tuxedo. (Notes)

Daddy Dom/little girl roleplay fantasy. Sweet, smutty, and slightly taboo. (Notes)

Daddy’s Little...Helper - Me, as submissive!Reader, watching Daddy jack off right in front of my face after he comes home from work. Based on a conversation with an Instagram friend and a picture of David in the play “Cal In Camo” where he’s holding a beer bottle between his legs. (65%)

Stranger Things x Twin Peaks crossover - Chief Jim Hopper comes to Twin Peaks to help Special Agent Dale Cooper solve some type of paranormal mystery. Perhaps a parallel between The Black Lodge and The Upside Down? I think this would work really really well, but I can’t write it myself. (Please write this for me!)

In conclusion: Yes, I know I need to have my head examined. Yes, I know I spend too much time thinking about Jim Hopper. Let me know if you LIKE these ideas. Please do not let me know if you hate these ideas.

Tagging: @manawhaat @strangest-hour @007swhore @kingphillipblake @david-harbour-arg @misshawkins1993 @oxforddrama 

[thewritewolf]

Eating Habits Chapter 9: Warmth

The incoming chill of late fall might be making Paris cold, but the love of friends and family keeps Adrien and Marinette warm. 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 (Final)

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3. 

The letters in front of Marinette swam as she tried to focus on them, her laptop screen getting blurry intermittently as she blinked away the gnawing tiredness at the edges of her mind. Between her exhaustion and the lingering after effects of her cold from last week, she was having an awful time studying. Maybe she should have tried getting back onto a regular sleep schedule, but there was too much to do after being bed ridden for a few days.

Thankfully, there was the power of energy drinks to save her. The caffeine was probably the only reason she was even still awake right now. Not that being conscious was a huge help if she couldn’t process what she was reading. After a few more minutes of unsuccessfully staring at her screen, she sighed and leaned forward, rubbing her forehead.

Once she wasn’t hyper focused on her work, her attention drifted to a conversation from a couple boys at another table. They weren’t very loud since they were all in the campus library, but she could still hear them pretty clearly. Without meaning to, she listened in.

“...Crazy, right?”

“Man, you’re super lucky. That would’ve been just the thing to make calculus less dull.”

“What? Haven’t you had a class where that Agreste kid just waltz in with a boxed lunch?”

Marinette froze. They couldn’t be talking about…?

“He’s been in so many frickin’ classes but of course he doesn’t show up to any of mine.”

“Bummer, dude. It’s pretty hilarious, and kinda cute.”

“Well, he was a model. Or is he still one? That was pretty ambiguous-”

“No! I mean he brings the lunches for his girlfriend.”

“Aw, that’s sweet. Feel bad for his girlfriend though. Must be a little embarrassing, ya know?”

Meanwhile, Marinette buried her scarlet face in her laptop, being careful to keep it between her and the two boys while they kept talking. Maybe it would be worth eating proper meals just to keep Adrien from these over the top antics.

Despite her embarrassment, Marinette’s stomach growled treacherously at the thought of his boxed lunches. She wondered where he was right now...

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

“Geez, dude, can’t even go easy on me for a minute, huh?” Nino threw his control down in faux anger. “Have I even one a single match yet?”

“Hm…” Adrien tapped his chin as he pretended to give it some thought. “Well, you did beat up my character when I went to the bathroom. Does that count?” Adrien ducked out of the way of a playful punch aimed at his arm. “Ooo, too slow, turtle boy.”

“God, you’re such a smug dick,” Nino said with a grin. “Can’t believe I ever thought you were an innocent homeschooled boy.” He leaned back, settling his controller on his lap. “How’d you even get so rockin’ at this game?’ His eyes narrowed and he pointed a figure into Adrien’s face. “And you’d better not say ‘natural talent’ or I’ll send M that clip of you drunkenly crying to that one Inuyasha scene.”

“We’re all friends here, shelly, no need to pull out the big guns.” Smirking, Adrien held his hands up in surrender and shrugged. “Well, you know how Marinette is into the Mecha Strike series. Ever since we started dating, every time a new title would come out, I’d get it for her. Then we’d play it a ton. Early on, it was after dates, but after I moved in, we’d stay up late and fight into the early morning.”

“Sounds like you were having a ton of fun,” Nino said with a small smile. “You ever actually win any of those matches?”

“Hell no. Why do you think I like playing against you so much? I got years of pent-up frustration to take out.” They shared a laugh. Adrien stared wistfully into space. “But yeah. It was like a sleepover every night with the person I cared the most about.”

“Harsh, dude.”

“Hey, you’re a close second! And that’s saying something since she’s literally the love of my life and light of my heart.”

“...Yeah, I can see how you two and your over-the-top ideas of love mesh together.” Nino snapped his fingers. “Speaking of crazy acts of love! Weren’t you making tons of trips to M’s university? What happened with that?”

To his surprise, Adrien blushed and he rubbed the back of his neck. “About that… Turns out, doing it once is cute. Two or three times is adorable, but getting annoying. But apparently two meals a day for three weeks - minus her sick break - is crossing a line.”

“Bummer. So she chewed you out?”

“If by ‘she’ you mean ‘all of Marinette’s professors’ then yes.” Adrien sighed dramatically. “Now I’ve been banned from interrupting all her classes, at least for the semester.”

Nino laughed at a pouting Adrien. “Uncool of them, but I get it. Can’t have some stray cat runnin’ around, getting everyone all riled up.”

“Anyway… at least she got a few weeks worth of regular meals out of it. I just wish it could have gone on for a little longer.”

“It is what it is, big cat. You did what you could and that’s what’s important.” He pulled out his cellphone and started composing a text.

“Who are you talking to?” Adrien craned his neck over, shamelessly reading over Nino’s shoulder.

Nino leaned away from his prying eyes. “It ain’t for nosy cats, that’s for sure. If you gotta know, its for my babe. She’ll think you getting banned is hilarious, and I gotta be the one that tells her.”

“Oh sure, laugh at my pain.”

“That’s the plan, dude.”

Adrien shook his head, but there was a glimmer of mirth in his eyes. He stood up and walked to the kitchen, leaving Nino to send his message in peace.

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

A few days later, the apartment was quiet once again. Nobody had come over to visit, which was more the norm for his life. On some level, the stillness bothered him, like there was something missing. Or maybe it was just because it was harder to distract himself if there wasn’t any noise or energy in the house.

Either way, today Adrien didn’t mind as much since the solitude would make this a little easier. He didn’t want word of his plan to leak out before he was ready or else Marinette might catch wind of it and clam up. Which wouldn’t help anyone, least of all Marinette herself.

Adrien hung up the phone and took a seat at his kitchen table. Normally at this hour it would be covered in fresh ingredients for whatever he was planning on making that day. But where chopped vegetables usually sat was instead advertisements and a few bank statements. The latter was probably unnecessary - he knew without looking that’d he’d have enough for what he was planning. But it was reassuring to see, at least.

Knowing Marinette, it was good to have as many loose ends tied up as possible, and leave nothing to chance. He loved her to pieces, but she could work herself into an anxious lather if he let her.

“Are you sure this will work out?” Adrien worried at his lip as he sightlessly looked over the papers.

“Listen, kid,” Plagg said as he gnawed at a wedge of cheese. “You want to help her, right? And she isn’t budging despite everything you’ve done so far, yeah?”

“Yes…”

“Then trust me. I’ve known more than a few Ladybugs in my day and most of them are way too stubborn for their own good. And we both know Pigtails hasn’t bucked that tradition in the slightest.”

“I know, but… it’s a big step. Shouldn’t we talk it out as a couple?”

“Maybe. And I’ll grant that Pigtails is a great planner.” Plagg gulped down the last hunk of his cheese, letting out a satisfied sigh once it hit his stomach. He shook his head and looked back at Adrien. “But she’s also her own worst enemy. If it isn’t urgent, she’ll just plan and plan and plan forever without actually doing anything.”

Adrien smirked, remembering the times Marinette had shared - after some help from a bottle of wine - some of her more… creative plans to confess her love to him. At least, until he beat her to it. Maybe Plagg had a point.

“We can always plan together later,” Adrien said with a nod. “I just need to make sure she doesn’t reject it out of hand.”

“That’s the spirit, kid. Now, onto the important matters - where’s my second dinner?”

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

Tonight was their anniversary, a chilly December day, and Adrien wanted to make sure everything was perfect. He’d gotten permission to leave the bakery early. Probably way earlier than he’d needed to, but Tom and Sabine had insisted that he take the whole afternoon off. Especially Tom, Adrien remembered with a smile, who could barely hold back the tears as he waved Adrien off.

A quick stop at the market for fresh ingredients and Adrien was home.

As much as he had wanted to go out to a fancy restaurant or do something special with her, he knew that the best way to spoil her now - after the semester she’d been having - would be a nice relaxing night at his apartment, eating a home cooked meal and cuddling in front of the television.

And by all the kwami was she going to get the best meal and the most snuggly cuddles he could possibly make. She deserved nothing less.

He became a man possessed, putting all those cooking classes to good use as he crafted the greatest lasagna he could make. While that was cooking in the oven, he began gathering all the softest blankets and pillows he could find and stacking them on his couch. Half the fun of a pillow fort was making it with someone else, but he knew she’d rather be able to collapse into it as soon as she got there.

It was just as he placed the finishing touches on the fort that he heard a knock at the door before it swung open.

When his eyes met hers, a big grin spread across his face as his heart raced. She wasn’t even a step inside before he’d rushed across the room and swept her up in a hug, holding her off the ground with his arms just below her waist.

She laughed as she pressed her hands against his shoulders for support. “At least let me put my stuff down first, you ridiculous man!”

He simply grinned up at her, eyes sparkling with happiness as he slowly let her down just enough to put them face level. He kissed the corner of her mouth and whispered:

“Happy anniversary, bugaboo.”

[aweirdkindofyellow]

Here I Am, There You Are Pt. 6

Jack Barakat x OC ‘Rachel has been best friends with Alex, Jack, Rian, and Zack since high school. What happens when one of them gets married?’

Part 6

Once nine o’clock came rolling around, I was leaving a taxi with a duffle bag hanging from my shoulder and my handbag awkwardly balancing on top of the duffle bag’s strap. Honestly, I felt like a teenager leaving my best friend’s house after a sleepover. Only, I was much older than a teenager, and I was coming back from work. Although, you could technically say that I was going to go to a sleepover.

Other than being late, work also left me in an inappropriate outfit for the situation. First of all, heels. Completely open heels. They were okay for sitting in meetings for an entire day, but not for what was to come. Along with those heels I was wearing some dark blue high waisted dress pants. The shirt wasn’t too bad, it was a white t-shirt, but I was also wearing a blazer that matched with the pants. It truly was the perfect outfit for work, which meant it was the worst outfit for a concert.

Music was already booming from inside the venue. The queue outside was already long gone, the only people still outside only being there to clean up the trash that people had left behind. I rolled my eyes, remembering the many times I would freak out on the guys when they left their trash outside when we were waiting to get into a concert back in high school. But, hey, what can you do. Nobody wants to lose their spot to go to the bin.

I went to the back entrance to find nothing but a closed door. Originally, there was going to be somebody waiting to greet me and take me inside, but once again I was way too late for that. Everybody was busy doing their jobs. I was going to have to call Jack so either he could let me in or he could find somebody else to let me in. But my phone was somewhere at the bottom of my bag, so it was a real struggle. Before I started swearing and getting too annoyed, I happened to notice somebody in the hallway inside through the small window at eye-height in the door.

I knocked on the window loudly and waved to get her attention. She looked up at me and I recognised her as the first supporting act’s lead singer. At first, she looked very confused, but I beckoned for her to come over, hoping I wasn’t coming over as too creepy. Luckily, she came over and opened the door, but she did the right thing not opening it too far and letting me in.

“Hi?” She said with much confusion.

“Hi,” I sighed in relief. “I’m sorry, I promise I’m not a crazy fan trying to get backstage. I’m Jack’s girlfriend.” She continued to stare at me, making me realise that ‘Jack’ could literally be anybody. I quickly clarified, “Jack Barakat.”

“Oh, umm…” She still seemed skeptical and glanced inside to see if there was anybody who could help her, but nobody was there.

“You have no reason to believe me,” I said to show I knew and understood her fear. “I’d call him, but I literally can’t find my phone right now. I could… umm… you could check his instagram? I’m on there.”

“Okay, yeah, I’ll check.” She pulled out her phone from her back pocket.

I apologised when she unlocked it and opened the app. She searched for Jack’s profile and tapped on it before scrolling through the images. We went past many images, making my case look very bad. I could tell she didn’t really believe me anymore, if she ever did. Even I would have doubted myself. But then she happened to scroll past a post Jack had put up on our anniversary, which was also Alex’s and Lisa’s anniversary. We were very unsure about posting anything on that day, not wanting to take away from their special day, but they said it didn’t matter.

“Hang on. There!” I exclaimed with a bit too much excitement, making her go back to the post.

“That’s you?” She still seemed unconvinced as she zoomed into the photo.

“Yeah,” I nodded, knowing it wasn’t an all too great photo since it was from quite a distance and my hair was a lot longer. “I should be tagged in it. If not, he’s got some explaining to do.”

But, when she tapped on the photo, my username popped up. She tapped on it and opened my profile. There, it looked a lot more like me. I also had a few more photos with Jack posted on mine than Jack had on his of me. The only reason I didn’t tell her to go to my profile first was because I could have easily taken them at some meet and greet or used some amazing photoshop skills, which both weren’t the case, but still.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” she apologised when she realised I was telling the truth and nothing but the truth, and let me in.

“No, it’s cool. Better safe than sorry. I could have been a fan with an elaborate plan,” I told her.

“Okay, well, I’ve got to go into the opposite direction, but All Time Low’s dressing room is just down the hall, to the right, and then three doors down. There’s also signs when you go to the right, so don’t worry too much about finding your way around.”

I thanked her and we parted ways. Although I could remember the directions she gave me, I followed the signs all the way to the dressing room. The boys were getting ready to play their shows. They all had their clothes on and were busy getting their in-ear monitors ready. It was only half an hour until they had to be on stage.

“Hey, it’s Rachel!” Alex was the first to notice me enter the doorway.

Jack immediately perked up and looked up over Zack’s shoulder, who he was helping with the in-ear monitors.

“Hey, guys, I’m so sorry I’m so awfully late,” I apologised despite the fact that I knew I hadn’t inconvenienced them and had kept Jack up to date through brief texts. “I’m just going to go change and let you guys finish what you’re doing.”

“Wait,” Jack stopped me, his hands still on the Zack’s jean’s waistband to attach the box. “Have you had dinner yet?”

Originally, Jack and I were going to go out for dinner together. He had made reservations and everything. It would have meant that we would have missed the first support act, but we would have been back way sooner than I came. However, that plan obviously fell through. Instead, he went and had that dinner with Rian because it would have been a waste of a reservation otherwise.

“No, I haven’t had time to even think about food today. But I have...” I shook my head and looked into my handbag. I had brought a lunch with me to work and was assuming that I had brought it with me. But I had left it in the fridge at work. “… a mini KitKat. I’ll be fine.”

After that, I slipped into the bathroom and stripped off the clothes I had been wearing for over twelve hours. Now was my time to put on a concert-ready outfit, or also known to me as some normal clothing. I pulled on my ripped blue jeans and a dark gray t-shirt before discarding my heels for some black vans. There was no real reason to dress up or think too much about it. Next, I brushed my hair, deciding it was too messy and putting it up in a ponytail, and then just took off all my makeup. My skin needed to breathe. I tried to be as quick as possible, knowing that it was only a matter of time until they had to move to the stage.

When I came back into the dressing room, the boys were done with helping each other. They were now playing some loud music through their large speakers. Alex was doing his silly dancing, Rian was sitting on one of the couches tapping along to the music, and Zack felt the need to do some pushups. And Jack? Well, Jack was stood at the microwave pulling out a styrofoam box.

He grabbed a fork from a container and made his way over to me, giving it all to me. “Here, eat this. I was keeping it for myself for later, but you need it more.”

I opened the take-away box and saw some delicious looking pasta from the restaurant we were supposed to go to. “Thank you.” I quickly pecked him on the lips before digging in.

“Ugh,” Alex groaned in disgust. I looked at him to see his scrunched up nose and dirty look was directed at me and Jack.

“What? Can’t deal with a little minor PDA?” I commented while still eating my pasta.

“No, I can deal with it, but you guys…” he visibly shivered on purpose and pulled the same face again. “I’m used to you acting all close, you even did that back in high school. But you guys kissing and knowing you guys– you guys– It’s like knowing my parents–” He added a faking gagging noise.

“Well, deal with it,” Jack retorted and wrapped and arm around my waist for emphasis. “She’s here for a week and I’m going to be making sweet sweet love to her.”

“Sweet sweet love,” I repeated in a singsong voice just to watch Alex squirm.

“You guys disgust me. Keep that out of my face,” Alex said sternly, but I could tell he was just joking. He liked me and Jack together, he had made that clear many times before.

I continued to stuff the pasta into my mouth to try and finish it on time. It wasn’t long until they were going to go side stage. I didn’t want to bring it with me, but I did want to finish it. Although I wasn’t hungry before, one bite rejigged my stomach and it started sending messages to my brain again to eat. Once I finished it, I put it to the side and remembered one last thing I wanted to wear to hide the mess that was my hair.

I pulled out a black baseball cap with a logo on the front of it and showed it to Jack. “You might not remember this, but I stole this from you.”

“Really?” He took it out of my hands and inspected it with a frown. I could see him trying to imagine the rack he had in his closet for all his caps to see where it could be missing from. “Are you sure?”

“Blink concert, summer 2005,” I stated, but he still didn’t seem to remember. “You dragged me out super early because you wanted to get good places and nobody else was able to go so early. We had to stand out in the sun for hours. I was dying and starting to get a sunburn, so you gave me your hat to help save my face. I never gave it back and wore it a lot during first year of college.”

“I remember now,” he grinned and put the hat on my head. “That was the day before I developed a humongous crush on you. My sister asked me about the concert and she planted these thoughts in my head that made me overthink everything.”

“No... really?” I tried thinking back to the weeks afterwards, but couldn’t recall ever thinking that Jack had feelings for me. Usually, I was very good at knowing when guys would crush on me in high school, but I only knew about the brief time Jack had a schoolboy crush on me for a week during freshman year.

“Yeah, but I knew you were crushing on Chris Feltner, and you guys dated for–”

“We dated until first year of college.” I nodded, realising I maybe had been too obsessed with my own feelings to realise how one of my best friend’s was feeling. “I know.”

“Well, suck it Feltner, guess who’s got the girl now!” Jack shouted in triumph before going in for a proper kiss.

I jumped when a flash went off and turned to see a girl with a camera standing in the doorway. She was smiling brightly and gushed, “that’s so cute.”

“You scared me,” I breathed out in shock and held a hand to my heart.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry,” she excused. “I should have asked to take your picture before.”

“Oh, no, it’s cool,” I quickly told her so she wouldn’t feel guilty. “I just didn’t see you there. No, you can take my picture if you like. I believe I actually have an old photo from 2005 of the two of us with me wearing this hat. It’s a nice comparison.”

“Rachel often makes me take pictures of her, you’re all good,” Jack added with a chuckle.

“Like you don’t make me take hundreds of different photos just for you to choose one to send to your mom,” I retorted.

“But I’m not embarrassed about it, I don’t give a shit.”

“I don’t give a shit either.” I winked.

–––––––––––––

Visiting Jack on tour wasn’t nearly as rowdy as most people would expect. They weren’t twenty-one-year-olds enjoying their rising fame by partying twenty-four-seven anymore. Yes, they still liked their fun and their drinks, but it wasn’t over excessive. I managed to avoid alcohol the entire time I was there. Well, except for one night. One dreadful night. Karaoke night.

You see, I didn’t sing. I would never do what Alex did and sing in front of large crowds. Quite simply, I didn’t want to do so and I wasn’t good enough to do it either. But I could hold a note. I was good enough to be one of the few people who didn’t suck at karaoke, but I could never be an actual singer. If I took some serious vocal coaching, I probably could have. But like I said before, I had no desire to do. I liked singing in the shower, that was it.

So, when the guys decided to go out to a karaoke bar, I was dragged into it. We had to be back by 4am to get on the bus and leave to the next venue, but that didn’t mean the guys didn’t want to go out. It was actually relatively late compared to other nights when we had to leave immediately after everything was packed up again.

At this karaoke bar, more than just a few drinks were poured. I managed to stay away from it at first. The first round bought by Alex was beer, which I got out of. My glass was replaced with a glass of coke. I also managed to miss out on the shots of tequila and a round of mixed drinks. While the boys were very understanding when sober (and when I say ‘understanding’, I mean they would eventually give in and let me have my way), they would be less so when the alcohol started flowing.

Jack had bought everybody a round a vodka shots. This time, however there was an extra glass and that glass came in my direction. I refused. I absolutely refused, but Jack just wiggled his eyebrows when took did his own. Even when they started chanting my name and got a few strangers to join in, I still stood my ground. But Jack wouldn’t give up. He was tempting me. At one point, I almost took it, but I stopped myself. It all went well until Jack picked up my shot and poured it into my glass of coke. He winked and convinced me that that one drink wouldn’t hurt over the rest of the night.

But he was wrong. Very wrong.

It must have been around 5am when things went downhill for me. At first, Jack had kept saying ‘I told you so’ when I got no headache and felt fine. But it was so different just an hour or so later. The bus was moving, shaking us lightly. I was pressed up against the wall in Jack’s bunk, Jack taking up most of the space beside me. My head was pounding when I woke up.

“Jack,” I groaned, trying to push him out of the way so I could get some more breathing space. It felt like I had a horse putting all it’s weight on my forehead. “Jack,” I repeated again when he didn’t budge.

“What,” he grumbled back and shifted like half an inch.

That’s when the pain got so bad that it started messing with my stomach. “I’m so nauseous.”

“You okay?” he asked, seemingly a bit more awake than before, but his voice still full of sleep.

Part of me wanted to cuddle up against him and bury my head into his neck to help with the pain, but another part of me wanted him to get as far away from me as possible. “This is your fault.”

“Do you want some painkillers?”

“No,” I told him despite the fact I actually most definitely wanted some, but something else was on my mind first. “I’m going to be sick.”

“Right now?” He was definitely awake now. This was a wakeup call. He started to shuffle out of the bunk.

“I can’t move.” I managed to breathe out while I was trying to keep everything down, clutching my head tightly. I really didn’t want to throw up all over Jack’s bunk. One, it was our sleeping place, and two it would be a bitch to clean up.

“Oh, shit,” he sighed and sat up, not leaving the bunk.

I wasn’t the only one who knew the severity of how bad this was. Last time this happened, I threw up all over Jack’s bedroom floor and passed out from my headache. He was afraid I was going to choke on my own vomit, but that didn’t even come close to happening. That time I had only had some wine with dinner.

“Umm, take this.” He pulled out a plastic bag he had in a small compartment at the end of his bunk. “Just in case.”

Just because I had that plastic bag, did not mean that I was immediately going to throw up. Jack ran his fingers through my hair, both to comfort me and to easily hold it back if needed. I concentrated on breathing so the worst wouldn’t happen. Honestly, I would do anything for it not to get to the point. It wasn’t that the alcohol made me throw up, it was my headache caused by the alcohol that made me nauseous.

“Maybe we should go to the back?” Jack suggested when he realised I was doing my best to stay composed. “You can look outside there, it might help.”

I nodded, not trusting myself to open my mouth to say anything. This time he did get out of his bunk, opening the curtain and revealing that all the lights were also off in the hallway. I was glad they were, I couldn’t imagine being able to stand light right at that moment. Jack waited for me to slowly crawl out. Just sitting up made my head spin.

“You go already, I’ll grab some water and painkillers.” He reached out to push the button to open the door to the back lounge and went in the opposite direction.

I somehow made it onto one of the couches while keeping my eyes nearly closed and holding tightly onto my head. The movement of sitting down nearly made me vomit, but I managed to stop it from happening. I sat with my legs up, looking out at the highway we were on. It was dark outside except for the occasional streetlight. The pain was so unbearable that tears involuntarily slipped out of my tear ducts.

“Here.” Jack handed me a water bottle and two pills before going back to his bunk and taking his pillow and duvet to the back lounge. He closed the door behind himself so we wouldn’t accidentally wake anybody up, which we surprisingly hadn’t done yet.

“Thanks,” I responded in a very shaky voice and downed some water to chase the painkillers.

Jack pushed another button that made the couch extend horizontally. He grabbed a throw blanket from a cupboard in the room and took it for himself while he gave me the bedding. “We’ll just sleep here tonight. I also brought some melatonin in case you aren’t able to sleep.”

I thanked him yet again and waited for him to lie down beside me. Once he got comfortable, one arm behind his head, I put my head on his chest and closed my eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he apologised, wrapping and arm around me and trailing his fingers over my side. “I promise to never put alcohol in your drink again. If anything, I’ll keep you away from it.”

“I love you,” I whispered and accepted his apology. I couldn’t hold a grudge against him.

[boy-porridge-vent]

Day 1

***Trigger Warning for most of this post!*** :(

 New vent account, I just have a lot to get off my chest, not right now per-say but in general, a lot has happened and I’m not coping well.

To start off, I’ve relapsed into self harm again

Not only cutting, but nearly everything I was able to get myself to stop doing.

 * I’ve begun to cut again, it’s now to the point where it gets deeper & messier each time I have a panic attack/breakdown (whatever the difference is).

* Im scratching & biting a lot more

* Punching myself until I bruise

* Weighing myself constantly, about 3-10 times a day, it’s in secret though since the scale is kinda hidden in my basement ever since my parents took it away

* Ive begun to check calories & count them. Before this past month, Ive never done this before & now it’s almost like a nervous habit! :(

* I’ve relasped into my an*rexia urges again. I’ve been having trouble with my body image & eating since about 5th grade; not to get too personal, but my mom was & still is hard on me, always called me ugly or fat because of an early puberty that made my body change quickly in a pretty gross way. Had a lot of acne since 4th grade;;; anyways, because of all that, and finding Onision, I was obsessed with his UhOhBro channel around 5th grade & took some of his more serious videos related to starvation & self harm to mind and tried it on myself because, despite him having a stone-cold hatred for it, I was a dumb kid and didn’t listen. So yeah, 5th grade I would starve myself or eat very little; 6th grade I kinda stopped but struggled with my clothing choice/identity more; 7th grade I struggled with gender; 8th grade was when an*rexia came back, more severely than ever, but it happened in short bursts over a few months, I also started cutting but very rarely; 9th I was much more happy & settled down just a bit, really figured out who I was; 10th things weren’t exactly the best, cutting came back & began to be more frquent but not deep; 11th was the worst, I’ve now been eating very little ever since school started, first day back wasnt exactly the best & I ended up cutting again for the first time in months moments after I got home.

 A lot more has happened since then and it’s only gotten worse. I don’t know what to do anymore

I don’t mean for any of this to make anybody upset or possibly relapse/get urges themselves when reading all this, I get so sad when I see others struggling too, I always try to help any of my friends or even random people online if they post a vent. I love bein there to support & help, even help get people to come out of serious relapses! But when it comes to myself, I tend to feel no pity, like I deserve this. There’s something wrong with me in my head, this has been gong on for years, every year feels worse than before, and yet everytime Ive gone to my dad, principles, teachers, or school counselors, they never help! They tell me off, saying Im fine, I dont need a therapist because therapists are scammers, or that I just need to be more positive & get over it.

Ive been told this for years, so maybe… it’s just me who’s to blame. Im the only one who sees what’s happening because it’s not really a big deal. I just make it seem wore than it is in my head. I have friends who care & ask if Im okay, ask if they can help, but honestly they cant help. They can support & I’ll vent to them but it doesn’t fix anything, I vent but it doesn’t fix my mind or my empty stomach or my hand reaching for my same used razor. Nothing has helped and I’m worried that after a while Im going to end up killing myself, whether it’s on purpose or it happens on accident when I go too deep. I have a lot I wish to do in my life, but at the same time, with all this shit that’s happened and how my life feels as if it keeps getting worse everyday, I will admit that at this point if I DID die, I guess I wouldn’t be too upset. I am scared of what will happen after death, nobody knows what happens, but I know that I am legally an organ donor, and I do have part of my will typed up in the case that I do die suddenly one day, so I guess it isn’t too bad.

I will be honest, Ive never been exactly suicidal before, but these past 4 months I think I’ve been legitamately suicidal and ready to go whenever I have a breakdown. Everytime I relapse I think of just ending it all right then and there, but then pussy out because I think about my few friends, my followers on other social media, my pets, my plants, and other people I wish to change the lives of in the future. I want to adopt a kid someday and give them what I didn’t get, treat them as I wished to be treated, help them grow up into the person I wish I had by my side growing up. They’d be my child, I’d be their parent, but we’d also be best friends. I wanted to start my own show, my own comic, my own booth at cons, meet so many people, get married, do music, so many things

but honestly, I don’t think I’ll live much longer after my senior year of highschool. I’m planning on finishing this year out, trying to finish my senior year, graduate, then I’ll leave this Earth with a bang. Maybe literally, or maybe through some other way of suicide, I don’t know. I might even do it sometime before I graduate. Not to make people sad, not for attention and pity, but because I can’t continue on like this, and I want the people who’ve wronged me to see what they did. I want those who refused to help, even when I was in front of them screaming & begging them to get me some kind of therapy or help, to see what they caused. I want them to see that I wasn’t just some sensitive crybaby that needed to get over himself, I want them to see that mental illness can run rampant in anybody & they need to be open to helping those who really need it.

 Ive been through so much. Ive been bullied, made fun of by my own mother, neglected by her, pysically/emotionally/mentally/VERBALLY/and even sexually abused by an ex partner of mine, Ive been literally harrassed, Ive been used solely for sex by nearly every single ex of mine, Ive been manipulated/guilt tripped/gas-lighted/made to feel as if my abuse was my fault, Ive been punished by my school for being abused by my ex! Yet everyone who has ever hurt me in these ways always got away with it scott-free. Why? I have no idea. I like to say that they’re let off the hook because I don’t come to school with black eyes, broken bones, bruises, and mascara running down my face. Abuse is abuse, it doesn’t have to have visible signs. Yet, mine does. I have self harm wounds, not because I blame them for making me self harm (as one of my exes once did), but because of trauma I still deal with that stemmed from their treatment of me. I have nightmares about my ex and her treatment toward me. I get SCARED when my mom comes home. I get nervous walking into school. I hate being touhed physically because it reminds me of so many people from the past getting physical and leaving me in the dirt afterward, even when I trusted them with everything. I hate saying I love you to anybody because of how little it means when others say it to me. Many partners would send hearts & “I love you"s, then throw me out like I was garbage.

I’m so tired of it all.

But maybe it’s all my fault. Maybe Im the problem. Im too quiet. Im too much of a pacifist. I hate confrontation. I hate violence. I hate hating people. If Im hurt by someone, even being abused, I always forgive and let them back in, and I get hurt again over and over. But on the rare chance that I dont forgive, when I do hate them with every cell in me, then for some reason, I can’t get them away, I can’t get them out of my life. They’re always around as a constantly reminder of what happened and how I was used and how I will never change, I’ll never be able to stick up for myself.

 if all that is going to happen in my life involves me being used for sex, money, or compliments to make others feel higher about themselves, then I don’t want to be around anymore. But I can’t just kill myself on a whim and call it a day.

I wouldn’t exactly say this is why I self harm, my self harm isn’t a choice, it just… kind of happens. It’s an addiction; scientifically, it has been proven to have addictive tendencies, which is why it’s so hard to stop once you’ve started/relapsed. I self harm because it’s an addiction that I can’t help, and becaue of bottled up, unresolved trauma that gets worse with every new day that I keep it bottled up for.

 This isn’t going to get better. Sorry for typing out so much too. I have an issue with piling all my thoughts and how I feel into multiple huge paragraphs, so there’s much more of that to come.

Also to come, weight updates & keeping track of what I eat/how long I can go with no food whatsoever. So far I’ve gone about 1/ maybe 2??? days straight, though I stayed home today so I did have to eat dinner, which caused me to gain 1 pound. But I lost 4.5 pounds in that day of not eating, so I can lose that 1 pound pretty quickly. Plus my metabolism is very very fast, so even if I did eat a lot I’d lose all that weight in a few hours/a day or two, depending on how much I ate.

This is day 1 of my further decline.

September 01, 2019

[bazypitchandsimonsnow]

Straight Boy

Part 2: together

Rating: M

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 10365

Chapters: 2/4 [All chapters]

Read on AO3

AN: Oooooh this chapter is fuuuuun :) I loved writing all this fic but especially this chapter. Also, forgot to mention it last chapter, but yes "Baz in glasses" is BACK baby!!! I love this HC and I will keep putting it in fics until I die. Well, enjoy this chapter :D

Tagging: @jeansjeansjeansjeans

———————————————-

I have to do a double take of the building. I check the address Baz text sent me, and it’s right. This fancy ass mostly glass white condo is definitely the right place. Well, Baz said his family was rich, maybe they bought him a whole condo for uni? Yeah...

I walk and type in the buzzer code Baz gave me. It rings low and loud, until a very pissed off voice comes on. And it’s definitely not Baz.

“What?!” The posh woman barks out. I instinctively step away.

“Uh, I’m here to see Baz?” I say with extreme caution. “I’m Simon, by the way.”

“Oh, right, Basilton said you were coming.”

Basilton? What? Okay, not important right now. There’s an obnoxiously loud buzz and the door unlocks. I rush in and go towards the elevator. It’s all cold grey fancy steel. I feel very intimidating as I go up to the twenty fifth floor. Luckily, Baz’s flat is just to the right, so I don’t get lost. (Penny says I get lost turning left.) I knock on the door lightly. A few heavy steps come towards me, then the door swings open, making me take a step back.

This woman is definitely not Baz, but I’m pretty damn sure they’re related. Same skin tone, same grey eyes, same black hair. Though she has a thick white blonde streak at the front. I can’t tell if it’s dyed or natural. She’s wearing a leather jacket and ripped jeans with old Doc Martens. She looks like she just came out from a seventies punk bar, and she was the headline act.

“Uh, hello,” I say very cautiously. “I’m Simon.”

“So, you’re Simon,” she replies with a weird suspicion. “You’re shorter than I thought you would be.”

“Um, sorry?”

“Fiona!” I hear Baz shout from behind her. He appears suddenly, glasses on top of his head, hair falling in a lazy wave over his angry face. He's dressed in a loose white shirts and blue jeans we picked out at W Wood. Wait, are jeans his lazy clothes? Huh, odd. He looks good, so whatever.

“Stop picking on Simon,” he growls at the women, apparently called Fiona, glaring viciously. Fiona glares right back.

“I wasn’t picking on him,” she says with bite.

Baz rolls his eyes dramatically. “Of course you weren’t.” He finally looks at me and immediately grins. “Hi, Snow, glad you could make it. This is my Aunt Fiona. Please ignore her. She’s over protective, like an old pit bull.”

Fiona scoffs loudly and smacks his arm. “I am not old, you wanker! I’m only thirty eight!”

“Not the important thing here. Now, Fiona, don’t you have somewhere to be?” He raises one eyebrow impossibly high. Fiona glares even harder.

“This is my apartment, y’know.”

“Our apartment now. And you’re going to Nicky’s. Seriously, why don’t you two just get a flat together and give me the place to myself 24/7?”

Fiona rolls her eyes. Wow, I can see where Baz gets it from. “Please, we’re too new for that.”

“You’ve known each other since high school.”

“But only been dating for a few months. We’re still in the sexy honeymoon phase, Basil,” she says with a wink. My cheeks heat up, Baz is obviously unimpressed, and Fiona looks very smug. I feel like I’m intruding on a much larger conversation.

“Fiona,” Baz sighs, “please, just go see your boyfriend. Come back tomorrow.”

She sighs over dramatically. “Fine. Leave my kitchen and living room in working order by the time I come back, please.”

Baz sighs in the exact same way. “Yes, of course, now go!”

Fiona walks past me, patting my shoulder as she goes. “Nice meeting you, Simon. Have fun.” Her nails dig into my skin for a brief moment. Not enough to really hurt but enough to sting. I don’t think she likes me that much...

Baz physically pushes Fiona out the door. She flips him off. He groans and gestures me inside. “Sorry about that. Come in, come in. I’ve almost got supper ready.”

I follow in after him, unzipping my hoodie, since this fancy place is certainly well heated. “It’s fine, man. I didn’t know you lived with your Aunt.”

“Yeah, sorry, never came up. She lives close to campus so it was easier to just take her extra room instead of trying to find another place. And I think my parents want her to spy on me for them.”

I chuckle as I kick off my trainers. “And how is that working out? She didn’t strike me as someone who would tattle to your parents.”

Baz’s lip pulls up into a smirk. “Well, she likes to be a shit and pretend she’ll tell them about my activities. But at the same time, she let me smoke half her joint last night while we watched Monty Python and ate peanut butter from the jar.”

“Oh my god,” I giggle. “That sounds amazing!’

“It certainly was. Now come on, I’m starved.”

We walk down the short hall into the actual apartment. I have to stop myself from gasping. The whole place is kinda intimidating but cool. It’s like what you see in catalogues. All white walls, modern furniture, and large bay windows with a view of the steel and brick horizon. Though there’s also enough personality to it to show that two people live here. There's lots of photos on the walls of Baz and Fiona and people who look enough like them to be relatives. Some old books are spread out on the coffee table, with lots of sticky notes on the pages in Baz's wispy handwriting. And next to the volumes are rolling papers I can safely assume are Fiona’s. Looks like a fun place to live.

“Just nearly burned supper, goodness,” Baz chuckles.

I follow his voice into the kitchen. It’s all white with fancy high tech chrome appliances. Baz is bending over the oven, making the denim stretch across his arse. I blush and avoid looking. The memory of...that part of his anatomy is still burned into my brain. It never goes away, just fades and pops back up at literally the worst possible moments. Like late at night, persuading my hand to “accidentally” slip into my pants. Or right now, when I really can’t let my hand go anywhere to relieve the heat he makes in my stomach. Fuck, my head hurts.

“Perfect,” Baz says cheerily. “Cooked all the way through.” He pulls out a pan with two herb covered chicken breasts and oily asparagus stalks. He opens the pot on top of the stove. It’s filled with absolutely divine tomato sauce. My eyes get very wide.

“Wow,” I gasp. “When you said you were making supper, I thought you meant boxed pasta or some shit.”

Baz smiles smugly. “I’m classier than that, Salisbury.”

His smirk makes my stomach even hotter. I shrug. “Guess I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

“Damn right. Now go sit down, I’ll bring the plates out in a second.”

He gestures to the large glass dining table near the window. There’s two rich crimson placemats across from each other, twin wine glasses already filled. The lights are low, matching the setting sun. Everything is soft orange, red, and violet. It’s really nice. This is the fanciest supper set up I've ever seen. And Baz did it for me. He's so nice. My knees wobble a bit as I take my chair. Baz soon comes out with two full plates.

“Dinner is served,” he announces grandly, placing the food in front of me. It’s chicken, asparagus, and some unfamiliar rice dish. It’s got lentils, fried onions, chickpeas, macaroni noodles, and that amazing tomato sauce all on top. My mouth immediately starts watering.

“Thank you,” I reply as he sits down. I wait for him to unfold his napkin and everything to be polite. Mum taught me that. But it’s hard. I really want to eat.

Baz gives me an amused look. “Dig in, Snow, I can see you salivating all the way from over here.”

I roll my eyes, but still grab my utensils. “Shut up.” I put a large forkful of rice in my mouth, and it’s a flavour explosion. My tastebuds are singing with joy. I’ve never had something this good. I start shovelling huge bites in, making Baz snort with laughter.

“You like it?” he asks with amusement.

“Uh, fuck yeah! What is this, ambrosia?”

Baz chuckles and shakes his head, “No, just some good spices. That’s called koshari. It’s a very famous dish in Egypt. I’m half Egyptian, so I wanted to try to make it. Connect to my heritage and all.”

I try to smile, but my mouth is partially filled with koshari, so it’s difficult. “That’s awesome. Like, it’s really cool you’ve got that connection to your culture and stuff. Plus it’s just like super delicious.”

He half smiles, lifting his wine glass like a true gentleman, “The chef appreciates your compliments.”

I lift my own and clink our cups together. Like we’re fancy or something. “You’re very welcome.”

We trade easy conversation as we eat. Baz has completely caught up in his classes. Actually, he’s probably ahead. He’s incredibly smart so I’m not surprised. I’m getting better at paying attention in class. Penny gave me a fidget spinner, which I think was supposed to be a joke, but it’s actually helped me channel some of that restless energy. Plus I’m just super interested in our therapy unit. It’s what I study social work for, to help people. Baz calls me exceedingly noble. From his small smile, I assume it’s a compliment.

Once dinner is finished, we put our plates in the sink. I try to start washing but Baz slaps my hand away.

“None of that,” he says resolutely. “I’ll do it later.”

I put my hands in my pockets. I know there’s no point in arguing with him, amazing stubborn bastard. “Alright. What should we do? I don’t really feel like going home yet.”

A strange look crosses over his face. Both nervous and excited maybe? It’s so fleeting I can’t tell before it’s gone. He nods slowly. “Want to watch a movie? I’ve got Fiona’s Netflix account.”

“Yeah sure. Sounds good.”

We walk over to Fiona’s pristine white couch. I flop down while Baz sits properly, ankles crossed, straight back, hands in his lap. Jeez, he can still be so uptight sometimes. He flips down his glasses, probably so he can actually see the TV. Fuck, they really do look good on him. I have to make an effort not to stare.

“What should we watch?” I ask. “Horror? Comedy? Drama?”

Baz shrugs. “Well, I only watch documentaries, which you’d probably find very boring. So I leave the choice up to you, Salisbury.” He hands me the remote like a gentleman offering a bouquet. I take it graciously.

“Oh thank you kind sir,” I say in my poshest accent. Baz rolls his eye and chuckles.

I flip through Netflix for a little while. Well, Baz wasn’t lying about only watching documentaries. All his recently watched are movies about forests and wars and violinists. Bo-ring! I go to the romcom section, because I love stupid tropey shit. Penny calls me a hopeless romantic. I just like that everything works out in the end. Real life isn’t usually like that. It’s nice to pretend. So I pick “Notting Hill”. It’s one my favourites.

“Dear Lord,” Baz mutters part way in, “what is this?”

“It’s a rom com,” I reply.

“So, I’m supposed to believe that a movie star just happens to wander into this guy’s store? And she kisses him impulsively? Seriously?”

I playfully smack his arm. Wow, his hands are rough, his arms are smoother than sea glass. “It’s not supposed to be realistic, it’s supposed to be fun.”

He snorts. “Well, all I can focus on is the plot holes.”

I sigh. My head, heavy from food drowsiness, lolls to my right. It takes me a bit too long to realise it’s fallen on Baz’s shoulder. Shit, didn’t mean to do that. He’s incredibly tense, every muscle pulled tight. I nearly move off, but then he relaxes. His legs uncross, and his hands fall to beside his sides. So, I guess this is okay. And his shoulder, despite it’s boney-ness, is actually really comfy. Yeah. this is cool. I’ll just stay here.

The movie keeps going, but it kind of falls to background noise for me. I know it off by heart anyway. I’m more focused on other things for some reason. Like the feel of Baz’s soft shirt on my cheek. Or that his whole jean covered leg is pressed against mine. Or how close his rough farmer-violist hand is to mine. I’ve only held it a couple times, and only loosely. I do wonder...

Before thinking about it too much, I reach over and grab his hand. Baz inhales sharply through his nose, but he doesn’t pull away. Our hands rest together. We stay like that for awhile. Watching the movie, just casually holding hands. Normal friend stuff. His skin is still as scratchy as I remember, creating sparks of sensation all over my palm. And his fingers are quite long. Pianist fingers, I think that’s the term. They’re nice. I like his hand. I like holding it.

Eventually, I lift my head up, and my eyes flick over to him. I just want to see if he’s enjoying the movie. Holy shit, he’s looking back. His grey eyes are staring right at me. It almost feels like he’s looking through me they’re so piercing. It makes me shudder involuntarily. His eye move lower, to... Wait is he looking at my-

And then he kisses me.

Holy shit. A guy is kissing me. More importantly, Baz is kissing me. His face is so close to mine, black hair falling around us, glasses pushing against my nose. Baz’s lips are smooth, soft, and kinda cold. Well, not cold, just chilly, like an ocean breeze. It feels nice. His kiss feels nice. Oh my god, I’m musing about a guy kissing me, about how much I like it. What the hell?!

Our mouths are still, just pressed together chastely. Like we're a pair of awkward pre-teends having out first kiss. But really I’m too stunned to move. Then Baz pulls away slightly. His eyes are a bit glassy and his breathing is unsteady. “Is this okay?” he whispers.

That’s a really good fucking question. Am I okay with this? My lips are still tingling, and my pulse is hammering in my ears. Every fibre in my body is screaming at me to get close to him again. I nod. “Yeah,” I reply breathlessly, “yeah, it’s okay.”

Baz smirks, pushing his glasses on top of his head before kissing me again. He’s less hesitant this time, moving his mouth more insistently and curling his long fingers around my nape. I try to match his pace, try to pull him closer too, clutching his shirt in tight fists. I just want him so close. I let out an involuntary moan when his nails prick my skin. The slight sting makes everything go spinny. My mouth falls open, and I moan again as his tongue slowly slides across mine. Holy shit, why does this feel so much better than any kiss I’ve had before? I’ve only snogged a few of people, so it’s not like I’ve got a ton of experience, but I’ve got enough. And this is by far the best snog I’ve ever had.

I don’t even realise I’ve been leaning back until I’m laying down with Baz over me. He’s got one hand in my hair, the other trailing along my side, and a leg between mine. I’m holding his hips, dangerously close to going under his shirt. I really want to feel those muscles I saw in the changeroom, but I don’t want to do anything like that without Baz’s permission. Consent is necessary and all. But suddenly, without even moving off my mouth, Baz grabs my wrist and shoves my hand right under his shirt. Okay, pretty damn sure that’s consent. I trace the ridges and planes of muscle in his back, memorising the how ridiculously good they feel. He groans into my mouth. It makes my whole body shudder. And I full on gasp when he grinds his knee between my legs. My whole brain fucking explodes. Oh man, I am certainly “reacting” very, very strongly right now.

Through all the arousal haze, I wonder if this, what we’re doing, means I’m gay. But I don’t want to kiss Baz because he’s a guy. I want to kiss Baz because he’s Baz. Because he’s nice and funny and watched Doctor Who for me. And sure, he’s also really pretty with his wavy black hair and deep sea eyes. But anyone would notice that. I’ve noticed that other guys are pretty before. I can be straight and observant, right? I don’t know. It’s all too confusing to think about now. I just want to keep holding Baz. I have to do that.

Fuck, how long has he wanted this? How long have I wanted this? I would say I didn’t, but then why are a list of things I want to do to Baz? Like this; I push a hand into his hair. The strands are soft, slipping through my fingers, just like I thought. I clench my fist and shove his face more into mine.

Suddenly, Baz pulls off my mouth.

“Sorry,” I say (I’m out of breath it’s embarrassing.)

“No, no, don’t be sorry. Just,” he takes a breath, “want to continue this somewhere more comfortable?”

I’m panting very hard, but so is he. His face is flushed, eyes half lidded, lips swollen and wet. He looks fucking hot. My whole body is vibrating with energy. I want to pull him down and kiss him until our mouths are sore. And well, this couch is a bit small to stay here for that long. So I nod. “Sure, sounds good.”

Baz grins, showing all his bright white teeth. “Wonderful.”

He climbs off me. His legs are shaky, but when I stand up, mine are too. Baz turns off the telly and takes my hand, leading me down the narrow hall towards a room. Once we enter, it’s very obvious that this is Baz’s room. It’s extremely neat because of course Baz is a clean freak. But the desk is covered in a mess of books and sheet music. His violin case sits in the corner. I wonder if I’ll ever hear him play.

We stop in front of the large bed. His sheets are all black, and they look like silk. Well, that's definitely more comfortable than the couch. Baz turns towards me. His face is lit up by the setting sun, skin glowing perfectly in the fiery light. Wow, he’s somehow even prettier right now. But, is he nervous? He’s chewing on his lip, and the hand I’m not holding keeps flexing. I guess he is. Huh, I haven’t seen him anxious since the W Wood. And right now he’s much worse.

“So,” he says, clearing his throat a bit, “how far do you want to go? We could just keep snogging, that’s fine with me. Or we could do more. Whatever you feel like, I’ll be fine with.”

Fucking hell he’s so considerate. It makes my heart speed up, for some reason. But, what do I want? I want to touch him, to kiss him a lot. For him to kiss me and touch me too. Maybe in places other than my lips. Actually, fuck "maybe", I desperately want that, the need itching under every part of my skin. Even though I've never wanted a guy to do that before. Even though I’m straight. I’m trying not to think too much about those contradictions and focus on how good kissing him felt. I really don’t need a headache at this time.

“I-I’m good for anything.” Wait no, not right. “But not ‘all the way’, though. I don’t think I’m prepared for that, in every sense of the word.”

Baz chuckles, his other hand grabbing mine. “That’s fine, no worries. Neither am I, to be honest. But there’s lots of other stuff we can do.”

I look down at the floor, stomach twisting terribly with nerves. “Um, if I’m being honest, Baz, I, uh, have no clue what to do. I’ve never done this before, with a guy.”

He doesn’t say anything. I expected him to laugh, to tease me at least a bit, but instead I feel his rough pianist finger knock up my chin. His mouth is soft, and his eyes are kind and understanding. Why are my knees so weak? “It’s okay, you don’t have to be nervous. We can try things, but you can absolutely stop me if I you want to, alright?” He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear, taking a moment to trace my jaw with a single callused fingertip. “I’ll take care of you, Simon.”

Bloody Hell, I’m not sure I have knees anymore now.

We lean forward simultaneously, lips instantly moulding together like we’ve been kissing forever. It feels so fucking good that I barely notice him pushing up my shirt. He pulls away when he reaches my arms. His face asks the silent question, and I nod in reply. He pulls the shirt over my head and tosses it to the side. I push at the hem of his. He happily helps me get it off, whipping it on the floor. My hands instantly go to his bare torso and chest. I try to touch all of it. Stomach, chest, shoulders, everything. I feel every bit of smooth skin and sharp angle, and they’re just as wonderful as I imagined.

“You’re actually perfect,” I murmur.

Baz smirks. He clenches his stomach, showing off his stupid perfect abs. I can’t suppress the squeak that pops out of my mouth.

“Why thank you,” he drawls sarcastically. I scoff, hoping it makes up for my red cheeks. He slowly runs his hand over my bare side the across my stomach. My whole body feels electric. I shiver and sigh. “You’re pretty damn amazing yourself, Snow.”

I attempt to laugh off my embarrassment. “T-Thanks.”

He kisses me softly again, arms winding around my neck. I hold his waist tightly. I nearly pull him over as Baz spins me around and pushes me on the bed. He stands over me, cupping my cheeks as we keep kissing. Soon he breaks away and starts trailing his cool lips slowly down my neck. It feels so good my eyes roll back in my head. I fall back on the mattress, propped up on my elbows, legs still hanging off the edge. He goes further and further. Across my collarbone, down my sternum and stomach, until he reaches just above my trouser waistband. Baz looks up from where he’s kneeling between my legs, eyes so dark I can only see the smallest ring of grey, and places a tentative hand over the button.

“May I?” he asks breathlessly.

I’m gripping the sheet so hard my knuckles are white. I can’t tell if it’s from nervousness or anticipation. Probably both. I know what he means. I know what he wants to do. Part of me is still confused by my own desire, but a louder part is only thinking in sex. In “yes, yes, please, more, do it.” And it’s a lot louder.

“Yeah,” I say, falling fully onto my back, "you can.”

I lay there, staring at the blemish free white ceiling, breathing harshly, just waiting. Everything is quiet. The only sound is the distant honks from far below and my own clamorous heartbeat. Baz doesn’t do anything for awhile and I start to think if I fucked up somehow. Am I too eager? Has he changed his mind? Is this all one big stupid mistake?

But then he pulls my pants down and takes me in his mouth. Then, well, I’m not thinking very much at all anymore.

———————————————-

I roll off Baz and flop next to him on his bed. We’re both panting and sweating and a bit sticky, bare bodies glistening in the city lights. It’s very dark out now. The sun set awhile ago. I manage to twist my still dizzy head to look at the digital clock on the nightstand. Holy shit, we just spent over two hours having sex. My muscles are totally dead, throbbing with blissful exhaustion.

And it hits me, again: I just had sex with Baz, with a guy, and I really, really liked it.

So does this mean I'm gay? But I liked it because it was Baz, not because it was a guy. He was so patient, so attentive, pushing just enough to get me to try new things but never so far that I was uncomfortable. I'm still unbelievably confused, but mostly just really fucking satisfied.

“Wow,” I say, voice raw and scratchy. “That was just, wow.”

Baz tries to chuckle, but his voice isn't much better than mine. “Had fun, Snow?”

“Uh, yeah! That was like the best sex I’ve ever had.” It’s only after the words burst out do I realise how fucking embarrassing that sounds. Baz laughs, of course. I cover my burning face. “I’ll shut up now,” I groan.

“Oh don’t be embarrassed, darling.” Baz peels my hands off, grinning face now hovering over mine. I can feel his foot pressed to my bare calf. He kisses my knuckles lightly. A thousand butterflies take off in my stomach. “It was really good for me too.”

His face is shiny with sweat, wavy hair all tangled because I kept pulling it (not that he complained). The city light dances across his skin perfectly. There’s a lot more butterflies flying now. I cup the back of his head and pull his mouth down to mine. I just want to be closer to him right now. It’s not urgent like before. It’s simply a lazy slide of our tired mouths, a calm way to end the frantic evening.

Baz pulls back slowly. His breath tickles my face. Then he collapses on top of me, face buried in the crook of my neck. I snort out a laugh I can’t help. He’s just too adorable.

“You tired, Basilton?” I tease.

“Shut up,” he grumbles. “And don’t use my full name. Only my family does that.”

“But it’s so funny! Your name is fucking Basilton Grimm-Pitch. You sound like an Edgar Allan Poe character.”

He chuckles against my skin. “Then you’ll love my first name.”

My heart does double time. I look down at him as best I can. “What the hell is your first name?!”

I feel his shit eating grin on my collarbone. “A man is allowed to have a few secrets, Snow.”

Damn, I really want to throttle the smug perfect bastard. He groans as pushes himself off me, slowly rolling onto his back then sitting upright, legs hanging off the edge. He stretches his arms to the sky, showing the grand muscular expanse of his back. (There are a lot of angry red scratches from my nails. Fuck, I was really into it.)

“I don’t know about you,” he yawns, “but I’m completely knackered. I’m brushing my teeth and going to bed.” His head turns halfway, showing just one eye, gaze slightly unsteady. Is he nervous again. “You want to stay? It’s alright if you don’t.”

Honestly, I’m not sure my muscles are strong enough right now to get me home. Even so, I do want to go. So I nod. “Yeah, I’ll stay.”

His mouth quirks up. “Good.”

Baz slips on his boxers and hands me mine. He leads me to the washroom. It’s huge and pristine and white of course. Baz gives me a fresh toothbrush, which is really thoughtful, because he’s really thoughtful. The vain bastard keeps hogging the mirror though. Once we’re done with our teeth, we go back to the bedroom and Baz takes out his posh red silk pyjamas. He tries to offer me a pair but I’m fine with an oversized t-shirt that looks totally unworn.

“That thing?” Baz says slightly disgusted. “I got that from the overeager poet’s society back at Oxford.”

Huh, makes sense. It does have a Byron joke on it. I shrug. “Eh, it’s fine. Kinda funny too.”

Baz waves dismissively. “Very well. You can keep it if you want. I’m not going to wear it.”

I pull at the hem. Well, if he’s offering, sure. It’s really comfy. And or some reason, I sort of like the idea of keeping this shirt. Keeping Baz’s clothes...it’s just sorta nice.

I flop down on the silk sheets and immediately sink into the comfy mattress. It’s like a goddamn smooth cloud. I’m already drifting off into dreamland when Baz lays next to me. He pulls the quilt over us. Distantly, I feel his long arm drape across my waist and his body curl around mine. His breath hits the back of my neck, almost immediately evening out in sleep. I instinctively snuggle closer, because he feels good. This whole night has felt good. Maybe I should just focus on that instead of the storm in my brain. Yeah, I’m fine with that.

———————————————-

I’m waiting for Baz at Goat while trying to do my readings. He meets me after class, then we have lunch and talk. We’ve been hanging out a lot more on campus the past three weeks, ever since I slept over. I do that a lot more too, actually. I go to his place at least once a week, usually more. Sometimes we just eat supper, maybe watch a movie, then fall asleep in Baz’s bed. Other times we use the bed for...other things.

I’m still straight though. That's still how I think of my self. I just also like this, whatever it is. It’s a sorta weird but awesome friends with benefits thing. I think. We haven’t really defined it. But whatever. We’re having fun. Who needs labels?

“Hello, love.” Baz’s hand is a comfortable weight on my shoulder. He bends around the back of the chair and kisses me. It’s just a short, sweet greeting kiss. He does this a lot now. I like it. I smile against his mouth.

“Hi,” I reply as he sits down across from me. “How was class?”

Baz stretches out his hand. “Well, my fingers hurt, so very good. How was your’s?”

I lift up my heavy textbook. “Professor Blowhard assigned extra readings again, of course. Does he realise we have lives outside of class?”

“Yes, but he doesn’t care, obviously. Because he's a dickhead.”

“Damn right. I need scones to feel better.”

Baz rolls his eyes. “Of course you do. Ebb already getting our food ready?”

“Ebb’s finished your food.” I jolt slightly. When did Ebb get here? Did she manifest out of thin air? She holds two plates with our usuals. A latte, sour cherry scone, and grilled cheese with tomato and spinach for me. (Baz suggested I try the last one, so Ebb made it, and it’s really good.) And a fancy turkey-pesto panini and pumpkin mocha breve for Baz.

Baz smiles up at her. He’s gotten very friendly with her. “Good day, Ebb. How’s it going?”

Ebb shrugs. “Pretty okay. I sort of want some new dishware but I’m not sure I have the funds for it.”

“Well, Christmas is coming up. Maybe I’ll keep that in mind.”

Ebb laughs and ruffles Baz’s already messy hair. She’s very friendly with him by now. “Aw, you don’t have to do that, Baz. Sweet of you to say though. He’s certainly a keeper, Si.”

She winks at me before sauntering off. I’m not sure what that’s supposed to mean. I flick my eyes over to Baz. He’s taking a sip from his overly large coffee cup. When he lowers it, there’s whipped cream on the tip of his long nose. I snort and giggle. Baz’s brow furrows.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, actually genuinely concerned. He’s always very concerned about his appearance. It’s funny, and kind of cute.

I reach out and use one finger to swipe the whipped cream off. His nose scrunches like an adorable child. I hold it for him to see.

“You’re making a mess,” I tease, then lick my finger. Baz’s eye go wide, and he might blush. It’s hard to tell sometimes, what with his complexion and being emotional display repulsed British gentry. I’m not sure why though. I just don’t like wasting food.

“Christ, Simon,” he chuckles, shaking his head. His eyes flick up to mine and he smirks. That expression makes my stomach do a lot of funny things. “Like you’re one to talk about messes," he says. "My kitchen is still recovering from your pizza debacle.”

“It turned out to be good frozen pizza though.”

“Yes, at the sacrifice of a clean oven.”

I shrug, reaching my foot out to tap his for emphasis. “I’ll destroy my own next time, alright?”

He goes a step further, tracing the toe of his Oxford on my bare ankle. It makes me jolt, but in a good way. Baz seems to have that effect on me.

“Hm, y’know, I haven’t been to your place yet. Invite me over for oven destroying pizza sometime?” His voice is smooth as butter. It makes my legs feel weak, even though I’m already sitting down. And he’s right, he hasn’t been over yet. It’s not because of anything, his place has always just been easier. That should be corrected.

“Yeah, sure,” I chirp, “I’d like that. Though my flatmate might interrogate you. She still isn’t sure she approves of you.”

Baz shrugs dismissively. “Understood. But I’m sure it’ll be fine. She’ll warm up to me. I’m very likable.”

I scoff. “And full of yourself.”

He pushes his foot until it’s fully under my jean cuff. I yelp  in surprise. “Got you to like me, didn’t I?”

Shit, why is my face so flushed? I try to use my book to cover it, but my eyes peek out over the top. Baz is still smirking, still slowly moving his shoe up and down my skin. It’s sort of hard to say no when he’s doing that. Bastard. “That’s true, I suppose,” I say shakily.

“Exactly.” He leans forward on the table, chin cradled in his palm. “Want to come over tonight? Fiona’s at Nicky’s again. Those two need to just move in together already.”

“Yeah, agreed. And I can come over as long as you help me revise for a midterm.”

“Very well,” he sighs dramatically. “If that’s the price I must pay for a good shag.”

And I thought my blush couldn’t get any worse. I use a hand to cover my bright red face. “Baz,” I giggle, “shut up.”

He chuckles and slowly peels my hand away. I’ve found his violin calluses feel weirdly wonderful on my skin. “I’ll help you, love, don’t worry.”

Fuck, he’s always so nice. Just so kind and helpful and fun to be around. He’s like Penny, I guess, but our dynamic doesn’t feel like me and Penny. Not better, just different. My heart and stomach don’t feel twisty around her. And I definitely don’t want to snog Pen silly. Baz is just different. Whatever we have is different. I don’t know what it is, but I like it. And I certainly don’t want to stop.

———————————————-

A week later, Baz is scheduled to come over. I’m trying to salvage my stupid homemade stupid pizza when there’s a knock at the door. I run over still wearing the apron and oven mitts as I open it. Baz is standing on the other side, gym/overnight bag slung over his shoulder. He blinks at me confused, eyes big behind his glasses. (He’s been wearing them more. That's good. He looks amazing, and he needs to see.)

“Hi,” I say breathlessly, kissing him hello by habit.

“Good evening, Snow,” he says. “Nice apron.”

I look down. Right, this is Pen’s “Snog the Chef” apron. Micah sent it to her as a joke. He made the false assumption she cooks enough to need one. Both of us usually cook from a box or order take away. I chuckle.

“Uh, yeah. Still trying to make supper. Come in, come in.”

I race back to the kitchen, leaving Baz in the living room. I can still see him through a small square space in the wall. (The previous tenant had a thing for cutting random holes in the wall.) He scans the room, taking in his surroundings.

“Hm,” he says thoughtfully. “Nice place.”

I laugh loudly so he can hear me. “You don’t have to be nice, y’know. I’m aware it’s gross. I tried to clean a bit.”

“I’m serious, it’s nice. Love all the Polaroid pictures. Is this blonde girl your roommate?”

“Uh, no, that’s Agatha. The other girl, Penelope, she’s my flatmate. We all went to high school together.”

“I see, that’s nice. You all look happy.”

I lean out the weird window hole. Baz is looking at the picture from the summer, when we all went to Agatha’s family beach house. I smile. That was a happy time.

“Yeah,” I sigh. “Summer before final year. Can’t tell Agatha was about to break up with me a few weeks later, huh?”

It’s a joke, but I immediately regret it. Baz tenses up. Shit, that’s a serious topic, and I shouldn’t talk about Agatha like that.

“There��s no bad blood though,” I say quickly. “Like, it sucked when we split up but it was for the best in the end. We’re way better as friends. She lives in California now. She skypes me and Pen a lot, tells us all about America and shit. I sent her a British flag for Christmas last year, and she sent me a California one.” I sigh, shaking my head. “I’m babbling, sorry, I’ll stop.”

Baz turns his head. He’s smiling, no anger or disappointment, thank God. “It’s fine, love, don’t worry. She sounds lovely. I’m not jealous. Unless I have a reason to be.”

His raised eyebrows and toothy grin tells me he’s joking. I chuckle. Why would he have a reason to be jealous anyway? I mean, Agatha’s pretty, but so is he. “No, you definitely have no reason. Maybe I’ll introduce you two sometime. You can compare expensive hair products.”

“Hey, you like my hair.”

“Yeah, but I’ve also seen how many bottles you have in your shower. And how many bottles did you bring with you tonight?”

Baz doesn’t answer. I snicker as I pull my pizza out of the oven. Well, it’s not much of a pizza anymore. Sort of a dough, cheese, and sauce liquid mess in a pan. I groan and lean my head on the cupboard over the oven.

“Trouble with supper, love?”

I look up. Baz is leaning in the window hole, arms crossed over the sill and head on his bent elbow. He looks nice like this, relaxed and all. Huh, he really is a lot less uptight than he was two months ago. That’s good, I suppose. I smile weakly.

“I think this pizza is even more of a disaster than the last one. And this time it’s completely inedible.”

He frowns sarcastically. “Aw, what a surprise.”

I take a mitt off and throw it at his stupid smug pretty face. “Fuck off, I tried!”

Baz doesn’t looked fazed by the glove projectile, just holding it as he smiles. “I know, darling, and you did your best. Now, shall I order take away?”

I sigh, shaking off the other mitt so they lay in a messy pile on the counter. “I guess so. But I’m paying for it. I was supposed to make you a nice supper, I should at least pay for the substitute.”

“Well, I certainly have no problem with that.”

I turn off the oven and take off the dumb apron. With heavy steps and hanging head, I go into the living room. Baz immediately reaches out and pulls me against him, hugging me close. I wrap my arms around his firm back, easily sinking into his embrace. He smells nice. Like cedar and bergamot, I think.

“Want to watch a movie?” he whispers, breath tickling my ear.

“Sure,” I mumble into his shoulder. “Do you like Pixar?”

He chuckles. It’s a really nice sound, washing over me like a warm, relaxing wave. “Yeah. Pixar is wonderful.”

We don’t move for a bit though. We just stay there, hugging in the middle of my living room. He’s a good hugger, so I don’t mind. I just close my eyes, breathe in his smell, and let his strong, firm arms hold me.

———————————————-

“Why does Buzz go still?” Baz asks. “He doesn’t think he’s a toy. Why would he pretend to be one when a person walks in?”

“Shhh.” I reach up to blindly hit his stupid smart arse mouth. “You’re ruining the movie.”

“I’m simply pointing out a flaw in the film’s plot.”

“Just shut up and watch, arsehole.”

Baz makes a displeased noise, but does thankfully shut up. Our half eaten take away pizza is still sitting on the coffee table. The sun has mostly set, the light of the telly the main source now. I’m junk food tired so I’ve ended up with my head in Baz’s lap. His legs are comfortable. And I like the way he strokes my hair. I could probably fall asleep like this if I wanted.

“Sorry again about supper,” I mumble into his thigh.

Baz hums softly, winding a finger around one of my curls. “It's fine, love. You made the effort, that's what counts. And I appreciate it.”

I hum, throwing an arm over his knees. “You’re nice.”

Bizarrely, he scoffs at that. “You’re the first person to say that, Snow. Most people say I’m rude and mean.”

“You're not, they're all wrong," I say immediately, almost angry for him.

He pauses for a moment, hand still in my hair. "You really think so?" he asks, voice slightly shaky.

"Yeah, of course. You tease me but you also made me supper and watched Doctor Who. That means a lot. You’re, like, snarky nice. Fuck, does that even make sense?”

Baz runs his thumb over the nape of my neck. “No, I get it. Thank you, darling, you’re incredibly sweet.” He brushes his long fingers against my ear. “Sometimes I wonder how I found you,” he sighs.

I chuckle, sound muffled by his trouser leg. “You ‘found me’ in a boring psych lecture, remember?”

“Yeah,” he whisper-laughs. “Glad I did though. Honestly...” He takes an audible breath, like he’s getting ready to jump off a cliff or something. “I think you’re the best thing to come out of moving to Watford.”

My mouth suddenly feels dry. And my heart is bruising my ribs it’s beating so hard. That was definitely one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me. But it doesn’t feel like when Penny or Agatha or Mum are nice. It feels so...new. I wish there was a more eloquent word for it, for what I feel when he says something like that. It’s an all encompassing sensation I've never experienced before. Like a supernova in my brain and chest. I just can’t place it.

The end credit music starts playing. I turn my head back to the screen. “Oh hey, it’s done,” I say. “Wanna watch something else?”

I can’t see Baz’s face, but I feel him lean back against the sofa. “Sure. Anything in mind?”

“Actually, yeah, I've got something. You’ll like it.” I fumble for the remote, then start flipping through my Netflix list. I know it’s there... “Aha! This!” I highlight a movie I found yesterday. Baz leans forward with curiosity.

“A documentary on an Australian string quartet?” He chuckles. “Really?”

Shit, I thought he would like it because there are string instruments and stuff in it. But it’s not like every chef adores cooking shows. “S-Sorry, it was just an idea. We can watch something else.”

Baz puts an arm around my waist and squeezes my stomach tight. I immediately relax. “No, that wasn’t a discouragement. I’m very intrigued. I’m just surprised you’re offering to watch it. It’ll be quite dull for you.”

I shrug. “Eh, maybe. But you’ll like it, and I’m willing to try.”

Baz doesn’t answer. Well, not with words. His arm holds me even tighter, and he leans down to kiss my hair. His cool lips press lightly to my scalp. I can’t help the shudder it makes. When he pulls back, he goes back to to softly stroking my hair. I feel like I could melt into the couch.

“Put it on,” Baz sighs. “Try not to fall asleep, Snow.”

“I’ll do my best,” I say, meaning it genuinely.

So the movie is objectively boring for me, because I'm not a violin student, and I’m not a huge fan of documentaries period. But there are some good parts. I like the people, following their progression and lives and how their careers influence everything around them. Baz likes that too. Though he’s also fascinated by all the fancy instruments. I just think they’re all really pretty.

“Hey,” Baz asks, “where’s your flatmate?”

“Oh she’s-” The front door suddenly slams, making both of us jolt. A few footstep sounds later, Penny is standing right in front of us. “She’s right here. Hi, Pen.”

Penny is frozen. She blinks at us in complete silence for a few long seconds. I don’t know what’s so baffling. “Hi... What’s going on here?”

“Baz and I are watching a movie.” What’s going on with her? Pretty sure that was obvious.

She quirks an eyebrow. “So this is Baz?”

“Oh right.” I gesture to her. “Baz, this is Penelope Bunce.” I gesture to him. “Penny, this is Baz Grimm-Pitch.”

“Hello, Penelope," Baz says smoothly. "May I call you that?”

“Um, sure.”

“Wonderful. Pleasure to finally meet you.” He offers his hand like the gentleman he is.

Cautiously, Penny takes the handshake. “Same for me. Good to put a face to the name.”

“Likewise.”

Their hands fall. Penny has a weird expression on her face. Her eyes keep flicking between me and Baz, looking positively perplexed. I don’t get it. We’re just watching a movie. She said it was okay to bring Baz over, but it still must be weird for her to have someone new around. She doesn’t like new people.  But Baz is going to be hanging around with me indefinitely, so they should probably get more comfortable with each other.

“Wanna watch and eat with us?” I ask. “Pizza is lukewarm but still good.”

She seems even more confused, head pulling back and mouth twisting for a moment. “Uh, sure, if that’s alright with both of you.” She looks pointedly at Baz.

“It’s perfectly fine with me. Snow’s the one taking up the entire sofa.”

I scoff and smack his knee. “Fuck off.” I swing my legs dramatically, putting myself upright. It makes my vision spin a bit, so I fall against Baz, head on his shoulder. I don’t think he minds though. “There, happy?”

He chuckles and throws an arm around me, pulling us even closer together. “Positively elated, Snow.” He presses a sloppy wet kiss to my cheek. I make a disgusted noise as I wipe it off.

“Arsehole.” I kiss his cheek too. Fair’s fair. I look up, and Penny’s eyes are incredibly wide. I gesture at her. “C’mon, Pen, there’s room now.”

She sighs and shakes her head. “Alright then."

She sits down, but closer to the other end. Weird. I try to make more room, putting my legs over Baz’s, pressing against him. But she doesn’t move any closer. Actually, she moves further away. Weird, but I get wanting your own space. She is watching the movie intently though.

“This is good,” she says through her pizza. “That violin is incredible.”

“It’s called the Gibson ex-Huberman Stradivarius,” Baz interjects. “Made by Antonio Stradivari of Cremona in 1713. Many say his string instruments are the greatest ever made. He’s estimated to have made 960 violins, 650 of which are still around. What I wouldn’t give to play a Stradivarius.”

“Right," Penny chuckles. "Simon said you were a violinist.”

“Yup, he is,” I say. “Which makes him a total music nerd.”

Baz flicks my far ear then kisses the other. “Says the Doctor Who nerd. And not just music. I enjoy history and English language too.”

“Hey, so does Penny! She never shuts up about that book about working people.”

“‘The Making of The English Working Class’ by EP Thompson, Si,” Penny says with some exasperation. “It’s an interesting read.”

Baz makes a contemplative sound. He’s good at those. “I’ll have to look it up. Shall we compare notes sometime?”

Penny turns her head. She seems to be examining Baz over her spectacles, brown eyes moving up and down over him. She does that a lot, examines people, like me the first day we met all those years ago. She’s assessing him, figuring out whether he’s worth her time. She decided I was. I can only hope she likes him

“I’ll think about it,” she says.

I breathe out a small sigh of relief. They get along, thank God. Neither of them notice the sigh, but they do notice the loud yawn I can’t help afterwards.

“Tired, Snow?” Baz teases.

“No,” I grumble. I rub my aching eye, which doesn’t help my case.

Baz sighs, then shoves off my legs and stands over me, all tall and looming and handsome. He offers his hand. “Then let’s go to bed. I have an early class tomorrow anyway.”

“Okay.” I take his hand and he hoists me to my feet. I’m a bit wobbly, but Baz keeps me steady with an arm around my waist. Damn, I’m tired. “Can you put away the pizza, Pen? I’ll clean up the rest in the morning.”

“Yeah, sure thing,” she says absentmindedly, already flipping to her own show.

“G’night, Pen.”

“Night Si. And Baz.”

“Goodnight, Penelope. Lovely to meet you.”

“Yeah, me too.”

I sigh again, because she sounds genuine, and I don’t need two of my best friends feuding. There’s no need for unnecessary drama.

Baz and I wash up quickly. (He hogs the mirror again.) I throw on my usual baggy shirt and sweats. I assumed he brought his ridiculous posh silk pyjamas, but to my surprise he takes one of my Watford sweatshirts and a matching set of grey trackies. I look at him with utter amusement.

“Really?” I chuckle.

“I left my bag in the living room,” he says nonchalantly. “And I don’t feel like going to get it.” His pretty face become nervous for a moment, looking down at the hardwood floor. “Is it alright?”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” I curl my fingers in his elastic waistband, making him stumble closer. “You look good. You should wear my clothes more often.”

He chuckles, leaning down to capture my lips. I sigh and melt into it. Baz holds my face, slowly running his finger over my cheek. I encircle his waist. Warmth spreads from my mouth and through my entire body. Damn. No matter how brief or how long, how fast or slow, Baz's kisses are always pretty damn great.

He pulls back slightly, leaving the smallest space between us. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he whispers against my skin. “Come on, now. I’m tired and so are you. Let’s sleep.”

I yawn right on cue. “Yeah, sounds good.”

Baz pulls me towards the bed. He lays down first, putting his glasses on the nightstand, and I follow, head pillowed on his strong chest. His arms wrap around me tightly. I like when he does that. Baz always makes me feel better just by holding me. How the hell does that work? Why does he feel so unlike any friend I've had before? I don't know. And I don't care, so long as he just keeps holding me.

“Night,” I mumble.

“Night, love,” he sighs.

I drift off with his left hand in my hair, his right tracing circles on my back, and his heartbeat right under my ear.

———————————————-

“Snow? Snow. Simon.”

I groan at the voice disturbing the my sleep. A rough, callused hand shakes my arm. Of course I know who it is, so I don’t even open my eyes.

“What?” I grumble

“I have to go,” Baz whispers. “I’ve got class until seven. Lunch at Goat tomorrow?”

“M-hm.”

“And are you still staying at my place Friday?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Did you understand anything I just said?”

I roll over, bleary eyes opening slightly. The dawn light doesn’t hurt my eyes too much. Baz is a blur of black, reddish-gold, and grey.

“Goat tomorrow, your flat Friday,” I mumble. “Got it.”

There’s white in the blur now, what I assume are his teeth in a wide grin. He leans forward. “Wonderful. See you later, darling.”

“Bye, love.”

He presses a kiss to my hairline. Even half asleep, I can feel his cool lips on my forehead and the smell of all his fancy products waft up my nose. I listen as his shoes click out the door.

I think I fall asleep again, because when I wake up it’s a lot brighter outside. I groan at the burning sunlight and bring the sheet over my head. I don’t have class until two so I don’t have to get up just yet. I just lay in bed, trying to block out the day. And under those sheets, it hits me that I called Baz ‘love’ for the first time. Huh. Guess his use of cute nicknames is rubbing off on me. It’s new, but so is a lot of stuff we’re doing, and I’ve like it all so far. I think I like this too.

My stomach growls like an angry lion. Guess that’s my cue to get up. I throw off my sheet and immediately shiver. Fuck, it’s chilly. I look over and see that Baz left my sweatshirt folded on my dresser, so I slip it on. I press it to my nose. It still sort of smells like him, a gorgeous mix of his cologne and fancy products. That makes me smile like an idiot, for whatever reason.

I saunter into the kitchen. Penny doesn’t have any class, so she’s sitting at the dining room table with a bunch of textbooks spread out. It’s like the school library threw up on it. The coffee in the pot is old, but I don’t feel like making a new one. So I pour it out and put it in the microwave.

“That’s disgusting, Si,” Penny sing songs.

“Shut up, Pen,” I reply with my most chipper voice. The microwave beeps. I drink from the mug and promptly spit the whole thing out in the sink. Oh Christ, it is disgusting.

“Told you so.”

I glare at her through the kitchen wall hole as I pour the coffee out. I start setting up the kettle for tea instead. Screw coffee. Baz says tea is better for you anyway.

“So,” she says very matter of factly, staring at me through our lovely wall hole, “Baz.”

She doesn’t continue. Nothing to explain what the fuck she’s talking about. She just looks at me with narrow eyes while twirling a pencil in her hand. I blink at her, silence hanging between us, and still nothing.

“Yeah, Baz,” I chuckle.

“You like him?”

“Uh, yeah. He’s cool.”

“Is he nice?”

“Yeah. Well, sorta.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Sort of?”

I shrug, scratching the back of my neck. “He’s nice in the important ways, y’know? Helps me out when I need it and treats me well. But he also teases me. In fun though. I tease him too, and I try to be nice. I hope he thinks I’m nice too.”

The kettle whistles. I get out my Adventure Time mug and a peppermint tea bag. When I look back at Penny, she’s twisting her lips, brow furrowed together, pencil tapping on the table rhythmically. That’s her concerned friend look. She always looks like this when I make a major life decision, or when I attempt cooking.

“And, you’re happy, right?” she asks carefully.

I blink at her in confusion again. That’s a weird question. I’ve been depressed before, sure, but I haven’t lately. So I’m not sure why Penny is concerned with my emotional state. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

She chuckles and her concerned look goes away. That’s a relief. I don’t like making Penny worried. “Alright then. As long as you’re happy.”

“Okay,” I chuckle, laughing at the absurdity of this.“Fun talk, Pen. Enjoy studying.”

“Will do. Get to class on time!”

I scoff, walking towards my room with lovely steaming tea in hand. “If I got to class on time, I wouldn’t be Simon Snow Salisbury.”

Penny sighs with exasperation. Now that’s a sound I’ve heard since high school. It’s become weirdly comforting in a way. Penny’s always going to be a bit frustrated with me, and she still loves me anyway.

———————————————-

“Simon, what are you doing this weekend?”

I look up from my fancy grilled cheese, mouth still full. Baz has finished his panini and is now in his “villain position” again. One long leg over the other, bony elbows propped on his armrests, fingers pressed together. It’s still half intimidating-half badass. I swallow my food. Don’t want to be rude with him.

“This weekend?” I ask. “Uh, nothing. I don’t have anything planned. Why?”

He drums his fingers together slowly. Total Bond villain. “Well, I have a proposition for something we could do.”

That makes me put down my food and shift in my chair. “Oh?”

“Yes.” He leans forward, elbows on the table. “You see, my parents wanted me to come home for the whole break next week. But I couldn’t do that with my practice schedule. I still want to see them though, so I’m driving up for family dinner on Sunday.”

“Okay...”

“And the thing is...” He drums his fingers on the wooden table and chews at his lip. “I’ve mentioned you to them, and they’re wondering if you’d like to come up with me.”

I nearly drop my sandwich. I stare at Baz silently for an inappropriate amount of time. “Your parents," I say cautiously, "want me to come over for dinner?”

He nods slowly, face pinched together in nervousness. “Yes. They’re both eager to meet you, though they may not show it outwardly. But please, love, don’t feel pressured. I told them it might be too soon for this but they can be...insistent. It’s completely up to you though. They’ll survive if you say no.” He rubs his nose under his glasses. “Sorry, this is just a whole mess. I thought about not asking but I wanted to give you the choice.”

“O-Okay.” I nod, like a very slow moving bobble head. Wow, this is just a lot. I haven’t met a friend’s parents since Agatha. And we were dating, which made it very scary. This seems even scarier though. My heart is pulsing too fast. Fuck, why does this feel so intimidating?

Baz grabs my hand, thumb tracing the back of it. It immediately calms me down. “Don’t panic, love, no matter what decision you make I’ll understand. It’s not like we’ll stop speaking if you don’t come to dinner with my pushy, posh parents.” He squeezes my hand. “It’s up to you, love.”

Right, up to me... Fuck. Do I want to meet Baz’s posh family? Even though it’s scary? I mean, I guess it would be nice. They’re probably smart like Baz, cultured too, all that. It sounds intimidating, and it was with Baz at first, but I learned. And maybe I can learn with his family too. I'd like to know more about Baz, be part of another aspect of his life. That's what friends do, right?

“Okay,” I say, “I’d like to come.”

Baz’s eyebrows shoot up, his mouth falling open slightly. “Really?”

“Yeah. It sounds fun, and I’d like to meet your parents. If they’re anything like you, they’ll be posh, really smart, and weirdly nice.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “Well, that’s one way to see them.”

I giggle too, leaning closer to him over the the small table. “Okay, good to know. Anything I should bring?”

“Well, Sunday nights are our ‘fancy dinners’, so we dress up. You’ll have to wear a suit.”

I frown. “I don’t own a suit.”

He nods like some thoughtful scholar. “Hm, alright. Well, I’ve got one you could borrow. Is that alright?”

“Sure. If it fits me, Mr. Tall and Lanky.” I poke his muscular shoulder for emphasis, making him laugh.

“You’re not that much shorter than me, don’t worry. So we’ll go up Sunday afternoon and leave Monday morning. I’ll certainly be drinking, so I don’t want to drive home the night of.”

“Very responsible, love, very responsible.”

Baz chuckles softly, and I do too. He looks me in the eye. All I see is kindness. Who the hell ever said he was an arsehole? He’s actually incredible.

“You sure you’re alright with this?” he asks, his voice still concerned.

I adjust our hands, so we’re smooth palm to scratchy palm, and smile as big as I can. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Baz smiles back. Not as big, but it’s still kind and calm. He leans forward and kisses my cheek, whispering in my ear. “Wonderful. Can’t wait.”

And weirdly enough, neither can I.

———————————————-

AN: So the documentary is real and called "Highly Strung", and the book Penny mentions is real too. Hope you all liked this. I like writing this fluffy definitely-not-a-relationship haha. Tomorrow, "adventure" :)

[gay4eraser]

For big baby boy Brad! 1-10, because childhood is important, 12,13, 15, 18, 21, 26, 31, 42, and 49!

my braddy boi!!!! thanks bb!!!! a note that Brad is somewhat a co-created character between me and blop at this point

Bnha Brad Boi content under readmore!!! 

1. What’s their full name? Why was that chosen? Does it mean anything?

Brad Bartholomew Jenkins. His name was literally chosen as a placeholder name and then we just Liked it and he stayed a Brad

2. Do they have any titles? How did they get them? 

Does Zookeeper count??? In bnha universe he was a zookeeper who was eventually hired on in All Might’s Lost&Found Shelter and Educational Center to take care of exotic animals, since he can communicate with them. 

3. Did they have a good childhood? What are fond memories they have of it? What’s a bad memory? 

Brad had a very distant childhood. His family was huge and not very well off, and he had to grow up fast to help take care of a lot of siblings and cousins. He does have a lot of good memories though! ...mostly of being the one delegated to taking care of all the family pets, which while kind of bad overall, he considered a huge plus. 

4. What is their relationship with their parents? What’s a good and bad memory with them? Did they know both parents? 

Brad knew both parents but they were often tired, overworked, and rarely saw him. They didn’t really understand their son’s quirk and how it worked and so everyone in the family thought his quirk was weird and made him go a bit crazy. 

Brad has fond memories of family gatherings, full of people, never being alone. He has fond memories of never EVER being alone because being surrounded by people was just as nice as being surrounded by animals, and he was always with one or the other. 

5. Do they have any siblings? What’s their names? What is their relationship with them? Has their relationship changed since they were kids to adults? 

He has lots of siblings! All of which I have not named in the slightest. Brad is the oldest and he’s always been a loner type simply because people find it weird that he considers animals perfectly acceptable company. He also took a job ASAP to help support his family so his siblings never saw much of him. They all think he’s kind of stuck up. 

6. What were they like at school? Did they enjoy it? Did they finish? What level of higher education did they reach? What subjects did they enjoy? Which did they hate? 

Brad loves the sciences! He’s pretty good at them too, though he’s very absent minded in school unless it’s a special interest like his animals. His school tried to get him to join sports so many times he doesn’t much care for sports anymore 

Have I mentioned he grows up to be 7′2″ 

In high school he hit 6 feet tall and kept going up from there 

He’s also really, really bad at math. 

7. Did they have lots of friends as a child? Did they keep any of their childhood friends into adulthood? 

Brad had a ton of friends as a kid! As weird as he is, he makes friends pretty easily. None of them were super close, but that was fine enough for him, he certainly didn’t care lol. He didn’t have time for friends really outside of work but everyone there loves the shit out of him and he has an extremely friendly and open demeanor. A lot of old friends honestly just went to the zoo to say hi to him.

When he moved to Japan a lot of people were really sad to see him go, though he was generally unaware of it 

8. Did they have pets as a child? Do they have pets as an adult? Do they like animals? 

Brad doesn’t consider them pets he considers them his best friends, thank you 

9. Do animals like them? Do they get on well with animals? 

His entire quirk revolves around animals, calming animals down, and slowly influencing the intelligence of animals. He Loves Them So Much. He will talk about them or TO them for fucking hours on end and infodumps about them at the slightest opportunity. He’ll destroy you if you try to spread false information about animals.

10. Do they like children? Do children like them? Do they have or want any children? What would they be like as a parent? Or as a godparent/babysitter/ect? 

Ehhhhh Brad’s too.. earnest for most children. He also tends to lose his temper with them easily. Animals need to be treated with kindness and respect and if a child taps on the fucking glass ONE MORE TIME- 

He’s nearly lost it towards kids several times and only timely intervention by coworkers has saved his job. Kids can be kind and innocent, and he loves those kinds of kids, but he has No tolerance for shitty kids. Kids who respect him and his animals however, he’s a great babysitter for, as long as the kids are fairly self-sufficient and don’t mind being forgotten in favor of the cockroach exhibit needing to be fed again. 

12. What is their favourite food? 

Boi loves himself some granola bars, he’ll chow down all day. In general snack and convenience food he loves

13. What is their least favourite food?

He can’t eat anything that resembles the animal it came from. Whole roasted chickens? He’ll cry over

15. Are they good at cooking? Do they enjoy it? What do others think of their cooking?

He can put sandwiches together and basic foods, but he’s not too good on cooking. Mostly just good enough to not starve. Everyone appreciates his efforts

18. What’s their favourite genre of: books, music, tv shows, films, video games and anything else

Get him a documentary and a laptop for fact checking and this boy is set for Hours of entertainment. He also religiously follows animal birthing livestreams and has vines of cute animals doing silly things on a playlist. He also watches terrifying shows like Eaten Alive and will chatter happily about the parasites transferred through eating infected, improperly cooked fish during dinner and make his sigfigs hurl 

Also survivalist shows, anything in nature really. He’s not huge on video games because his hands are too big and it makes him a bit clumsy. He’s cried during every sad dog movie that ever existed. 

21. Do they have a temper? Are they patient? What are they like when they do lose their temper?

Like mentioned earlier he has No tolerance for stupidity towards his animals, but otherwise he’s very easy going and generally just super chill. It’s hard to get a rise out of him. 

When he does get angry he unconsciously squares his huge ass shoulders and tenses up and straightens up alllll the way and that’s usually when his gentle giant aesthetic falls away and people suddenly realize. This guy. Lifts animals bigger than them. Without breaking a sweat. He’s stronk from sheer daily working like a bear. 

He’s very, very terrifying when he’s angry but all he’s gonna do is lecture you furiously and physically pick you up and remove you from wherever your offense is. (The worst he’s ever done is physically THROWING Asshat from his zoo) 

26. How do they act when they’re happy? Do they sing? Dance? Hum? Or do they hide their emotions?

Brad chatters excitedly yet peacefully when he’s happy! To people, to animals, to himself, doesn’t matter, he’ll talk out loud to anyone. 

31. Do they drink? What are they like drunk? What are they like hungover? How do they act when other people are drunk or hungover? Kind or teasing?

Brad doesn’t much drink? He’s into biology, so he’s Very Aware that alcohol is technically just poisoning your body. Also, he’s slightly afraid because when he gets tipsy (the most he’s ever gotten) he gets clumsy and hella  uncoordinated, which is dangerous when ur so big. He doesn’t wanna hurt anyone

42. What are their goals? What would they sacrifice anything for? What is their secret ambition?

Brad’s a simple guy, give him an animal and a job with them and he’s Solid. Doesn’t have any goal other than to keep supporting his family. He sends them checks whenever possible. 

49. What is their most valued object? Are they sentimental? Is there something they have to take everywhere with them?

Brad’s TERRIBLY sentimental but he doesn’t have the space for all the stuff he wants to have. He also is something of a minimalist otherwise so while he loves the value in items he’s probably not going to keep it. He DOES have a wall covered in Important Pictures printed out and taped on! Most are of animals. 

[gobigorgohome2016]

Fitness Check: Tobacco Road Half Marathon

Race weekends are so weird. I will never understand how time can move so quickly, yet so slowly, in the span of 48 hours.  

Today I raced the Tobacco Road Half Marathon in Cary, North Carolina.  Everything about this weekend seemed to embody the dichotomy of fast and slow.  

I arrived in NC early Friday afternoon, around 11 AM.  I think this race was first on my radar because my teammate, Andie Cozzarelli, lives in Raleigh and mentioned it to me the last time she raced the Indy Monumental Marathon.  My main motivation for choosing races this year was to choose ones where I could win money.

In the past chasing cash has scared me, because I have been afraid of the gnawing anger / frustration / embarrassment / resentment when the race doesn’t go the way I had hoped, and I don’t win the money I had anticipated.  There is also a factor where trying to win money, and then losing it, makes it feel more real, and scary in a way.  Which is something I need to confront.  

Friday was a lot of fun. Andie and I went for a run, watched approximately 30,000 episodes of Friends, then went out to dinner at an Italian restaurant in downtown Raleigh.  I had possibly the best seafood risotto I have ever tasted, paired with a delicious red wine.  Afterwards we watched more Friends.  What I love about my Haute Volee teammates is that they have pretty seamlessly filled the gap that was left after college during racing weekends.  Whenever Andie and I are together we run, do a little bit of work, watch some tv, eat, and talk to the point of exhaustion – just like my college days with my roommates.

Saturday I joined Andie for the end of her long run, then we headed over to the cutest coffee shop I have ever seen for a volee meet up.  A friend of mine who I hadn’t seen since high school lives in Raleigh, and we got together for lunch at a Japanese restaurant.  I ordered pho, solely for the reason that this time last year I went out to dinner with the ZAP Fitness team in Jacksonville and ate pho before running a PR.  

After parting ways with my friend, I took an uber to my hotel.  One of very few perks of Dave traveling all the time is that he can hook me up with Mariott hotels when I am out of town.  I was able to have a suite with a kitchen.  By the time I checked in at 2 PM, I only had 3 hours before the expo closed and I had to pick up my packet (no race day packet pick up).  I still needed another short run, and the expo was 2.5 miles away, so I naturally ran there.  Except, there was no sidewalk.  So I ran on the shoulder of a super busy and scary road.  #fail

By the time I got back to my hotel, I was pretty exhausted.  Even though I had really done nothing in the past 24 hours, I also felt like I had done everything.   I still needed to find some groceries, because I had already eaten the pre-race breakfast I had packed.  #secondfail

Grocery stores were really far away, but, Instacart exists in Cary!  Many struggles and 45 minutes of indecision later, I finally place my order for 18 larabars (literally), yogurt, two blood oranges, a box of instant oatmeal, 3 bananas, a beer, a dark chocolate bar, two kombuchas, and a small carton of orange juice.  Why did I order 18 larabars?  Well, I either could choose to pay $10 for delivery, or reach a certain threshold for free delivery.  18 larabars it was.  

I watched Loyola upset Tennessee, then excitedly got ready for bed because I was SO TIRED.  I had no idea the race was at 7 AM, which meant a 4 AM wake up call.  I turned off the lights at 9, but then COULDN’T FALL ASLEEP.  Normally, sleeping the night before a race is not a problem for me.  I wasn’t even thinking about the race, I just couldn’t fall asleep once I turned out the lights.  First the room was too hot.  Then I had to switch around my pillows.  Then I had to go to the bathroom.  Then the room was too cold.  Then every single person who walked down the hallway sounded like an elephant.  Then I started my period and was having cramps (seriously, my last 10 of 14 races I have started my period within 24 hours of the race.  It’s bizarre).  I remember looking at the clock at 2 AM and thinking to myself, just get 90 minutes of sleep.  

Even though I didn’t get a good night’s rest, I woke up feeling pretty good.  I had my breakfast and watched MTV.  I’ve had to give up coffee before races because I don’t think it does anything for me.  Instead, I drink green tea.  I packed a hand-made tea bag of roasted green tea that I bought in San Francisco for my morning cuppa.  

My friend, Tim, picked me up at 5 AM to head over to the start.  You know what’s cool about racing competitively?  You accumulate friends all across the country who are willing to do things like drive out of their way to pick you up.  

The next part is pretty standard:  talk with your runner friends while waiting for the start, use the porta potty 30 times, run warm up, do drills, take off clothes, pee in the woods because the porta potty line is too long, do some strides, get nervous, gun goes off, fall into rhythm.

Funny story:  the Tobacco Road is a crushed gravel trail. Basically, this race weekend was the most type B weekend of my life.  I had no idea it was a trail race because I didn’t read the website.  Honestly, I probably wouldn’t have done the race had I realized, but fortunately “trail” meant a nice crushed limestone / hard-packed dirt, tree-lined path.  

The course elevation map looked hilly.  I thought the race was going to be hilly.  Then people told me, no!  the course if very fast and flat!  I have determined that when you have a race in your hometown, you decide it is either the hardest, hilliest race in the country, or the flattest and fastest. Well, this race was neither.  The first 2.5 miles (and subsequently the final 2.5 miles) were moderate rollers, while the middle miles on the tobacco trail were long, gradual inclines / declines.  There were a few areas that were more treacherous than others, but nothing worse than that random gravel path we had to run down at the Trials.  

My plan had been to start at 5:45 effort and make adjustments as necessary.  Fortunately we warmed up on the first mile of the course so I realized that 5:45 effort was going to be significantly slower, because of both the wind and the hill.  My first mile was ~5:52 (I think).  I had overheard eventual race winner talking on the line with someone and make plans to go for 73ish min.  My plan was to let her go, then reassess the situation at 4 miles and figure out what I needed to do to catch her.  Meanwhile, within the first mile it became apparent there was going to be a struggle for second.  A woman was right with me, and surging hard to try and drop me.  

photo cred:  Andie.  Taken ~2.5 mi into the race before the wheels fell off

A big goal of mine this year has been to compete more.  To be honest, I don’t love this situation.  I am very comfortable running alone.  I don’t love to do battle at the time (of course if I come out on top I’ll tell you otherwise).  So, every time she made a surge, I went with her and then put in a surge of my own.  I did this 4 or 5 times before dropping her for good, around the 6 mile mark. Splits that I remember:  3 miles, 17:30, 4 miles:  23:04; 5 miles:  28:50, 6.6 miles:  38:00. The way back was a death march of sorts. I’m not sure what happened. Certainly the way back had more long, gradual climbs, which are not as easy for me as steep hills (they never have been; I think it’s just the way my body is built and the fact that I grew up training in the dunes).  Also, I definitely thought the wind was in my face on the way out, but it turns out it was most certainly in my face after the turnaround (there was talk of a shifting wind conspiracy.  I would have to agree).  

Something I noticed during the race was that I was far less concerned about where I was on the course because my only goal in the short term was to stay in 2nd place. I knew that I was gaining on first, but I was also on the struggle bus myself.  There was a very real feeling at mile 8 of just get through 1k at a time.  

Final finishing time: 1:17:43.  

Am I happy with that? No.  To be honest, I am pretty disappointed.  But, I also realize I am incredibly fortunate to be able to say that a sub-78 minute half marathon is a “disappointment,” especially when I earned enough money to cover a student loan payment, a car payment, and a couple weeks of groceries.  It’s also a matter of perspective.  When I was training for my PR marathon, I ran a 5 mile road race 7 weeks before Twin Cities. I ran 28:45 and was beyond ecstatic with a new PR.  Today, I went through 5 miles in 28:50 and still had 8.1 miles to go.  7 weeks out from the trials I ran 1:17:19 on a course that was flat and didn’t have gravel.  To quote Brene Brown, the middle is messy, but that’s where the magic happens.  

I have had quite a few setbacks recently.  It’s hard to acknowledge setbacks, but also not allow them to let you feel like you’re spiraling out of control.   

My coach reminded me today that I strive way too hard for perfection, when all I have to be is good.

Regardless, I asked Coach Dean if I could set up an appointment with him this week, because I think a mental game tune-up never hurts.  

Even though I consider myself a highly Type A person, I did a whole lot of Type B things this weekend:

-have no idea I was running a trail race

-have no idea what time the trail race started (there was a point in time where I banned myself from running 7 AM races because it requires waking up at 4 AM…)

-wait to get my bib number until the last possible minute, then get stuck running down a highway

-forget to grab my gels when I went to the starting line

The great thing, though, is that none of this bothered me.  I think there was a point in time where I would have freaked the f*ck out if any one of these things happened, let alone all of them.  

So, what would I have done differently?  Absolutely nothing.  77:43 is where I’m at right now.  It’s not the worst place in the world to be, that’s for sure.  I wish I was faster, but all I can do about that is keep working and making the right investments into my training.  

[thiscelestialglow]

Everything in between...

A summary post of the last month featuring a house build, Hobbitenango, San Vicente Cimientos, Playa Quilombo, and Semuc Champey.

//HOUSE BUILD// 03.21-24.18

Our group had the opportunity to work with ConstruCasa to build two homes for two families who live in Alotenango, a neighboring town of Antigua. I went for around four hours each day in the morning to help. I only worked on one of the houses, but I really enjoyed it because I was with the same workers and family every day so it made it possible to build a small relationship with them. Here are some photos from the days spent there:

The alley we walked down to the house each day. One day we had to carry a truckload of cement blocks down it and I wanted to die. The volcano in the back is Volcán de Fuego. It is an active volcano that is constantly letting out gases and lava.

These kittens had my heart and I would have given the world to bring them home with me.

My personal favorite job was chipping blocks with a hatchet, and not to brag, but I only broke two blocks. I would rather do this for 48 hours straight than mix cement one time. Photo creds: Hannah (for this one and the next two)

This is what the work site looked like on the first day...

...and this is what it looked like on the second or third day (???). It was so long ago I can’t remember.

This photo is from our last day when we dedicated the houses and gave handed the keys over to the families. Unfortunately, I don’t have photos of the finished houses, but I shared a video from ConstruCasa on Facebook that shows more of the process and has final photos.

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//HOBBITENANGO// 04.07.18

On a Saturday morning some people from our group decided to take a shuttle to Hobbitenango, a small restaurant/park type of thing up in the mountains near Antigua designed to look like the Shire. The food there was AMAZING and it was such a cute little place.

I ordered the second breakfast, which included pancakes, eggs, bacon, and fruit. And MY GOD that was the best egg I have ever had in my life. I haven’t stopped craving another one since.

Our breakfast view.

They also had carnival-like booths set up with games to play. This one was for archery and hatchet-throwing.

This was such a nice unique place to go to and roam around.

We had to ride in the back of a pickup up to the top, which also meant we had to go back down in one.

I was holding on for dear life and my face shows it. Photo creds to Hannah

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//SAN VICENTE CIMIENTOS// 04.15-17.18

San Vicente Cimientos is a Mayan community a few hours away from Antigua. There was a decline in elevation so it was MUCH, MUCH hotter than what we were used to in Antigua. The weekend was kind of a retreat from urban life into nature. Our time there was made up mostly of hikes.

This was the view of Volcán de Fuego from our house. It was incredibly active while we were there. There were multiple eruptions that rattled the windows and shook the entire house; it sounded and felt almost like a bomb had gone off. We were also able to see lava flow down the side, which you rarely see from Antigua. Photo creds: Cas

We had the opportunity to climb this mountain while in the community. This thing was MASSIVE and incredibly intimidating. (Photo creds to Cas.) We were driven up to the base and then had to walk up to where the rock face (yeah, a literal rock face) began. It was relatively okay up until that point. I have kind of a fear of heights, and when we got to that point, I looked down and over the valley and it hit me just how high up we were and if I fell I would probably die. What I thought was a small fear that I could control blew up and I began to hyperventilate. I sat down and got my breathing back under control while the rest of the group started to climb up the rocks via rungs someone had cemented into the rock. I thought I was okay to go again so I got up and tried to go, but my mind was still freaking out. Our guide thought it was best that I turned back and I couldn’t argue with him. He helped me back down and I sat a waited for the rest of the group to return. I was a little bummed that I didn’t get to the top because I really wanted to prove to myself that I could do it, but I just wasn’t in the mental state to conquer it.

After the mountain, we hiked down the valley to a waterfall where we were able to swim.

It was so beautiful and incredibly refreshing after hiking in the heat all morning. Photo creds: Rachel

Our last day we woke up and went on one last “walk” before we left.

We rode up to the beginning of the path in the back of this badass pickup and I kind of really want one now. Photo creds: Cas, otra ves

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//PLAYA QUILOMBO// 04.20-22.18

AND THEN THE DAY CAME FOR THE BEACH!!!! I had been looking forward to this trip the entire time I have been here, and as the weeks went by and the weekend got closer, my anticipation grew. I was so ready to get my tan on.

We arrived when it was already dark out, so we couldn’t enjoy the ocean, but our hotel had an amazing pool which we put to good use after dinner. The next morning we got up nice and early in order to take advantage of our only full day at the beach.

We noticed a sea turtle in a kiddie pool a few bungalows down from ours so naturally we had to go check it out.

We went for a walk along the beach a little later, where we stumbled across some bones of a still unidentified animal.

My friends are really photogenic.

I was pretty bummed Saturday night because I had been looking forward to the sunset here the entire semester but it was really cloudy so it wasn’t as grand as I was hoping it would be. Still, the pink colors in the sky were beautiful.

Las chicas de la Casa de Cindy, con Cindy *insert heart-eye emoji here*

It was so nice to sit out in the sun all weekend and though I was burnt like a lobster, I am finally turning tan.

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//SEMUC CHAMPEY// 04.27-29.18

A group of ten from our semester group organized a trip to Semuc Champey over our last free weekend in Guatemala, and I am so glad we did.

The trip started on Friday morning with an eight hour bus ride from Antigua to Lanquín, a town about 10 KM from the park. In true Guatemalan form, our bus was around 20 minutes late picking us up. We drove maybe 30 minutes outside of Antigua only to stop at a random gas station for no apparent reason. We asked what we were doing and were told that we needed to change buses. We still don’t know why that happened, but we spent almost two hours sitting on the pavement of that gas station waiting for the other bus to show up. When it finally did, the new driver whipped in to the lot and that should have been our first clue that this was going to be a drive straight out of hell.

The new bus was smaller and contained even more people than the last. I was lucky to get the spot I got, and I will never stop being thankful for it. The driver of this bus was easily the worst driver I have ever encountered in my life. I told Morgan it felt like sitting in a rollercoaster simulator in an arcade, only we were actually moving forward, and she couldn’t believe how accurate that was. So just imagine one of those simulators but on steroids. We made a stop at a gas station around lunch time, and were told we would stop in a couple hours for actual lunch, so all I got were some oatmeal cookies that I wasn’t even sure I liked. (I did like them, for the record.) It was four more hours until we stopped for a half hour lunch. We stopped for lunch at 4 PM. I’ve gotten used to eating a late lunch here, but not that late.

After we stopped, we were told we had another two hours until we arrived in Lanquín. Then our driver decided to stop at his house and change his clothes, then run an errand that took us about five minutes off course. I was incredibly annoyed and frustrated. However, his driving for the majority of the rest of the trip was better than before, so much so we weren’t sure it was the same guy.

Saturday we woke up, got breakfast, rode in the back of a pickup to Semuc, and headed to the pools. Our first activity of the day was hiking up to the lookout to see all of the pools at once. Never in my life have I sweat as much as I did on that hike, and the sunscreen I had put on before only made it worse. Hiking up I complained the whole time because I just hate inclines and stairs. When it was over, though, I knew it wasn’t that bad,  and I could admit that.

The view from the lookout.

Seumc Champey is a series of natural pools that a river runs under. The river enters under the pools here:

and it exits on the other side. When we hiked down from the lookout, we were able to swim in the pools, slide down a natural (aka rock) waterslide, and go into a “mini cave” where there was just enough room to tilt your head back so you could breathe through your nose.

We then went back for lunch, and after that, went “tubing” down the river. I put quotation marks around tubing because it wasn’t even 30 minutes long. Then we got a candle and entered a cave. It was only slightly terrifying. There was a series of ladders we had to climb and a waterfall we had to walk over, and I was very nervous.

The walk through the caves ended at a pool where you could climb up the wall and jump into it. I did not, because it seemed like a lot of work and I simply didn’t want to. While this was happening, my candle was burning intensely and I was so nervous I wouldn’t make it out with it. I was mostly concerned for the ladders, which I would have to climb with a light. I made it back through two of the ladders until my candle was so small it was only going to burn me if I kept using it, so I put it out. Unfortunately, this was right before the ladder I was most afraid of.

Another girl from the group, Rachel, had accidentally put out her candle earlier, so we stationed Morgan (who still had a candle) between us so we could use her light. I was so cautious going down that the guide there literally started grabbing my feet and placing them on the rungs. When I got down, the other people we had been with had already kept on going through the cave, so we had one candle between three of us and it was pitch black. We basically just held on to the ropes until we saw the light. To be dramatic, we probably wouldn’t have made it out without the ropes.

Sunday morning we got up, got breakfast, rode in the back of a pickup to Lanquín, and got on a bus for another 8 hour trip back to Antigua. This ride was much more enjoyable because it was a different (better) driver and we made really good time. I was a little car sick at the beginning, but I took some dramamine and ate some food and felt fine the rest of the trip. While it was a lot of traveling for one day of adventure, I’m really glad that I got to witness the beauty of Semuc Champey first hand.

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//MISCELLANEOUS// Just a few photos of things that have happened outside of these events. Enjoy.

Anderson’s 14th birthday!

Cindy’s birthday!

Just some old ruins around Antigua

Meet the next hit girl band

We also just moved houses last week, and this new one is SO NICE, especially in comparison to the old one. There’s a WALL OF WINDOWS in my room now!!!! This weekend we take another trip into Guatemala City, and then that Thursday, May 10th, we fly back to the States. It’s crazy how fast this semester has gone by, and I know this next week and a half will be over in the blink of an eye, so I plan to enjoy it all, and do everything one last time.

[transpeterman]

Can I request for a (and I'm sorry if this been asked before) Peter has dysphoria and the avengers try to help/comfort him???

Me, pretending these asks aren’t from two months ago (im SO Sorry )

-so Peter gets extremely dysphoric sometimes and it usually messes with his productivity and overall demeanor-he’s at the compound doing some training over the weekend and he wakes up and it’s just-the worst-like the actual worst he doesn’t even want to move-and he can feel his cramps happening which makes it 1000x worse than it normally would be-and the last thing he wants to do is get out of bed-he can’t even imagine putting on his skin tight suit and flipping around and shit-sometimes the suit helps his dysphoria but he knows today isn’t one of those days-he usually makes himself some tea and calls MJ and Ned to have a movie marathon with him-but since he’s upstate that’s not really an option-hes honestly pretty miserable-Dad Tony™ installed the babysitter protocol into Jarvis which basically monitors Peter’s vitals and stress levels to notify tony if its ever an issue-it’s generally used for nightmares -peters pretty close to crying before Jarvis asks him if tony needs to be notified and that’s definitely NOT on the table-so Peter pulls himself together-but he doesn’t get out of bed until Jarvis tells him he’s needed for breakfast which is a good 45 minutes at least-he skips the shower-he also can’t look in the mirror so he probably looks wrecked -a fact tony brings up when he sees him-“did you sleep at all?? Are you sick??? Do you need something? Should I call may or-”-“I’m fine tony.”-“peter if you die here May will literally tear me apart”-“I mean you’re not wrong”-he sits down but he’s not really hungry so he picks at some toast-tony is genuinely worried at this point-as are the other avengers who have joined them-because this boy could probably eat at least 2 pizzas himself- Dad Steve™ is this close to sending him to medbay and Bucky isn’t that far behind him-after breakfast tony calls him down to the lab with him but stops in the hallway-he asks him what’s wrong and Peter knows he’ll understand but it’s really personal and weird to share since he doesn’t really talk about it-but he does and tony immediately understands-“we can skip training today- is there anything you need? We’ve got heating pads and Tylenol and I can probably get you some Zquil if you want to just sleep-”-Peter ends up sitting on the couch switching between watching sci-fi shows and listening to podcasts on his phone-at around noon steve brings him a sandwich and tells him that he knows the feeling and he’s always there if Peter needs to talk-tony must have said something to all of them because they all came up to give him things but mostly left him alone-until dinner time-they brought up Thai food and sat with him-Clint kept throwing bits of food at people-sam kept groaning about Peter’s taste in movies-“at least Peter’s stuff is cool- I’d rather not watch the notebook for a 3rd time, sam”-“HE WROTE HER A LETTER EVERY DAY AND IF YOU DON’T THINK THATS THE TIGHTEST SHIT-”-they do end up watching The Notebook and Clint pretends to vomit no less than 4 times-Natasha is discretely eyeing Peter and making sure he’s comfortable and Wanda is doing the same-truthfully they all are but nat and Wanda are the most perceptive -after they’re done they stay where they are and continue to watch movies-tony falls asleep laying across steve and Bucky not even 10 minutes into Rent (bruce’s choice which was whole heartedly supported by Peter- those fucking nerds)-Steve and Bucky are next to go because they’re old-Clint eventually slumps into his noodles and nobody is really bothered enough to move him-when Peter falls asleep he knows Natasha, Wanda, vision, and Bruce were definitely still awake and he would’ve liked to stay up and finish the movie-but he got to La Vie Boheme which is his favorite song so he’s not too upset-he also could never be upset being surrounded by all these people who have his back -it was honestly one of the best dysphoric days possible -also sam, Bruce, tony, and Bucky all cried during the notebook and the rest of the room’s occupants have been sworn to secrecy but Peter knows Jarvis has it recorded which he fully intends to use in the future