#i also love social science classes too. anything but arch

[kimmkitsuragi]

ughhhh i literally cannot take how my classes start tmrw and i will have to work on a stupid project for another whole semester............ *applies for masters programs while saying this*

[foramomentonly]

Saved-A Meet Ugly

Author’s Note: Behold, the promised meet ugly inspired by @aewriting ! Blatantly stealing titles from early aughts teen films of my youth at this point.

Summary: Alex discovers a) his new roommate is a Christian Fundamentalist who hates him, b) he’s love with said roommate, and c) he’s super wrong.

 CW: negative perspective on organized Christianity/Fundamentalism

Read on AO3

Alex meets his dormmate briefly in the hall as he and his parents are heading out to lunch. Michael Guerin is friendly, his barely-contained, nervous energy evident in the restless way he passes his hands through his close-cropped curls. His parents are formal, bordering on sour, and they glare at Alex’s eyeliner and polished fingernails with disdain. They don’t invite him to eat with them. Then again, Alex thinks as they part and he wanders towards the room he’ll share with Michael, his own father didn’t even bother to drop him off at school. Glass houses, or some shit like that.

Michael has claimed the left side of the room, his bed neatly made up with simple, blue sheets and his desk stuffed with thick textbooks, some already clearly marked with wear. A battered, clunky-looking laptop charges on his nightstand. Some secret tension in Alex slowly uncoils with the knowledge that he isn’t sharing living space with some rich prick; when he eschewed the Manes family military tradition for higher education, Alex left home with little more than his scholarships and a military duffle stuffed with clothes and stolen linens to his name. Knowing his days of watching douchebags like Kyle Valenti flaunt expensive tokens of their parents’ unconditional love are over is a small comfort. 

That is, until Alex notices the crucifix resting on Michael's plaid pillowcase. It’s innocuous enough; Liz Ortecho's small home has plenty, family heirlooms hung as reverently as Texas gas station finds, and Alex counts her among his true family. But the facts fall into place like thundering dominos—Michael’s parents' disgust at Alex's makeup, the family's conservative clothes, Michael's closely-chopped hair and, after a bit of snooping, the two well-worn Bibles Alex finds, one in Michael's nightstand and the other on his small bookshelf. Fundamentalists, most likely. Alex swears loud and defiant into the empty room. He thought he'd left bigots and homophobes in his dust, but like a plague of fucking locusts, they followed him, and here he is about to share a sink with one of them. 

But Alex also knows better than most that kids aren’t always carbon copies of their parents’ stupidity; he’d flip his shit if someone assumed they knew literally anything about his beliefs based on his asshole father. So when Michael returns to the room Alex is in stealth mode, spread out across his bed and feigning disinterest by flipping through his welcome packet, tracking Michael’s movements out of the corner of his eye. Michael blows a loud puff of air out through his lips and looks like he’s about to flop onto his bed. When he sees the crucifix, he freezes; Alex is about to celebrate a victory against religious indoctrination when Michael lifts the small cross reverently off his pillow and, after an appraising scan of his space, hangs it low on the wall above his nightstand, dragging his school-issued lamp in front of it. He jerks his chin down in a small nod of satisfaction before his eyes dart quickly over to Alex; he almost catches Alex in a glower. Instead, Alex is quietly seething over an intramural sports schedule, his face blank, eyes burning holes in the middle of the page. He figures he’s in the clear when he hears Michael’s bedsprings creak with the sudden weight of his body. Alex glances up and Michael is crossing his arms lazily behind his head. He lets out a loud, satisfied sigh and shoots Alex a disarmingly sincere grin.

“Free at last, huh?” he drawls, and Alex arches a cold brow.

“Sure.”

Alex has every intention of icing Michael out of his daily existence, but as months go by—months where Michael lets his curls grow wild, rambles on and on about the science of irrigation, offers Alex his extensive biology notes for midterms, and laughs loud and deep at all of Alex’s snarky asides—Alex finds himself smiling easily at Michael in return, willingly passing lazy lunch hours and weekend afternoons with him. It comes down to this: for all Michael hasn’t done—the crucifix is an ever-present shadow above his nightstand and weekly video check-ins with his parents are never missed—he just doesn’t fit the mold. He smokes weed on the abandoned picnic tables behind the dorm at night, signs every social justice-oriented pledge and petition shoved at him on a cheap, plastic clipboard on their way to class, and he never wakes up before noon on Sundays. He isn’t fire and brimstone, hate and hellfire. He’s marshmellow fluff; laid back and open, sweet and eager to please, all messy curls and broad shoulders and goofy smiles with too much teeth and—oh, fuck. Alex is in love with him. 

Alex is in love with Michael and Michael probably thinks Alex deserves to burn in hell and it’s Kyle all over again. Alex was never in love with Kyle Valenti, but he loved him the way a neglected, angry little boy would love the popular, gregarious kid who was his only source of sunlight. Graciously. Blindly. Kyle was Alex’s best friend, and when middle school puberty made evident that Kyle was a stud and Alex was, well. Alex felt the betrayal of Kyle’s sudden targeted cruelty like a punch to the gut, long before Kyle or his new friends ever laid hands on him. And now, Alex realizes, Michael is his best friend and his heart’s deepest desire and, he’s finally ready to admit, who he jerks off to on lazy mornings after Michael’s barely made it out the door for his 8 a.m. class with a shirt on. Alex is well and truly fucked. “Damned” is too on the nose.

Then one day Alex is dragging his miserably-in-love ass back from class and he totally misses the tie that slipped from the doorknob onto the ugly carpet in front of their door and he opens it on Michael and some random guy going at it on Michael’s bed, sheets bunched at the foot of the mattress, shirts tossed inside out on the floor, and Michael’s hand deep down the guy’s jeans as he pants and whines into Michael’s mouth.

“Shit!” Alex cries, waffling between shutting the door behind him to shield them from the prying eyes of hallway passers-by or in front of him to shut himself out of his own room. “I-I’m so sorry.”

Michael looks flustered, but it’s not the bone-deep terror of being outed; Alex is intimately familiar with that darkest timeline of queer identity. His boyfriend—hook up?—just looks annoyed. His dark eyes glare at Alex and he snaps, “Do you mind, man?” with a sharp nod towards the door. Alex squares his jaw and opens his mouth to retort when Michael says softly, seriously, “Don’t talk to him like that,” shaking his head at his bedmate. The guy huffs in disbelief, rolling off the bed to pull on his shirt, still inside out, and fasten his jeans, brushing his fingers through messy, deep brown hair. 

“You’re seriously kicking me out right now?” he murmurs low, and when Michael doesn't answer, he spits, “You are such a dick.”

Michael winces and bites his lip, normally bright eyes dim and gaze cast down towards his own hands. The sight of Michael cowed, flushed and hurt and getting told off by the same Hot Topic reject who was getting off with him not five minutes ago trips Alex's long-dormant kill switch. He steps into the guy's space, pulling back his shoulders so his shirt stretches tight over the muscles of his arms and chest, and draws up to his full height.

"You have thirty seconds to get the fuck out of our room," Alex says, voice low and eerily calm, even to his own ears. The guy glowers at Alex, but the corner of his mouth twitches and he blinks first, intimidation evident in his narrowed eyes. He brushes past Alex and slams the door behind him.

"Are you okay?" Alex asks, moving closer to Michael on instinct and setting a comforting hand on his bare shoulder. Michael gazes up at him with wide, honey eyes, opens his soft, pink mouth, and blurts, "I love you."

Alex blinks, gapes, and what comes out of his mouth is an incredulous, “But I’m gay!”

Michael snorts, cups Alex’s forearm gently and runs his palm up and down his skin, the soft hair on his arms.

“Yeah, I know. That’s kinda why I’m hoping I have a shot.” He pauses, hesitation creeping across his face, and he takes his hand off of Alex abruptly, as though he hadn’t quite realized he’d put it there in the first place. “If you’re not interested, I totally—”

“No, no, I am,” Alex says, and the wattage of Michael’s answering grin could power the university’s electric grid for the rest of the semester. “But I thought you were, like, Team Westboro or whatever.”

Michael’s face falls, his whole body withers, and he hugs his arms around his naked waist. The impact of Alex's words on Michael horrify him, and he drops onto the bed next to Michael, takes Michael's hand in his and strokes his thumb across it’s back, feels the knots of Michael’s knuckles as he grips Alex's hand in return.

“Why the hell would you think that?” Michael asks, staring at their palms pressed together in his lap.

Alex shrugs, answers, "I mean, I didn't. I don't. Not about, like, you." Michael turns his head, brow wrinkled in confusion. "It's just. The cross? The Bibles? Your parents, I—"

"They're not my parents, "Michael interrupts, voice flat. "They raised me, but. They never formally adopted me, and I'd have fucking run the other direction if I thought they were gonna."

Alex stays quiet, waits for Michael to continue, squeezes his hand gently to let Michael know he's listening.

"They're Fundamentalist assholes, for sure, but I never bought into that shit, especially once I—I realized I like more than just girls." Michael reaches out, pushes his lamp out of the way and glares at the crucifix. "I'd love to never see their fucking faces ever again, but winter break is coming up, and then summer vacation, and—" He hangs his head, nearly whispers, "I need to have a place to go. I can't afford an apartment on my own yet. So I play nice. Put that on my wall and make sure it's in the background for video calls. There’s, like, zero support for kids who age out of the system alone. I fucking hate it, but I need them." 

Michael leans his head close to Alex's, catches his gaze and holds it with deep, whiskey-colored eyes Alex all but falls into.

"I'm not ashamed of what I like or who I love," he says, "and I'm so fucking in love with you, Alex. I just thought maybe you weren't into me."

Alex licks his lips, and a flush of arousal darkens his cheeks as Michael tracks the movements of his tongue with hungry concentration.

"I'm extremely into you," he says, his throat very suddenly bone dry, his voice husky. Michael's gaze hasn't moved from his lips, but he has flipped Alex's hand in his lap, starts running slow, feather-light brushes of his fingertips across Alex's palm and up his arm, fingers snaking under the short sleeve of Alex's shirt.

"I really wanna kiss you," Michael breathes, "but I’m also aware you just walked in on me hooking up with, like, Alex Manes-lite, so I—"

Alex closes the distance between them, pressing his lips to Michael's and cupping his neck, fingers finding their way into Michael's curls like he's been fantasizing about for so long. They're silky, clingy, and Michael tastes like lingering mouthwash and he smells like rain and Alex presses himself into Michael's lap, desperate to feel Michael's arms around his waist, the hard press of his chest against Alex's.

"I really want to do more than kiss you," Alex pants when they reluctantly part for air, when Michael’s fingers slip beneath his shirt and his nails scrape down Alex’s spine, and Alex feels the touch much lower on the geography of his skin.

Michael laughs, loud and free, and his strong hands on Alex's hips guide his legs apart until Alex is straddling his lap, those same hands pushing Alex's shirt up his chest, over his head.

"Thank God," Michael laughs, and reaches for Alex's belt.

[cafedanslanuit]

would it be ok to ask for hcs of the main 6 + vaderwood and how they would react to their normally energetic and funny mc being a little off and making some self-deprecating jokes (like a little too dark to be funny) as a way of coping and hiding their anxiety/depression? if not thats ok im just in a similar mood today.

self-deprecating jokes are my thing too, tbh. hope you’re feeling better! Also, I couldn’t picture Vandy for this particular hc, I’m sorry :c

Yoosung

This boy honestly loves how fun you are. He will always laugh with you and you don’t tease him that much (Saeyoung does that for you)

One day, when he comes home from his job at the vet, he finds you calling for pizza. He lets you finish the call and then you look up.

“Hey, welcome back! I accidentally left the stove on for too long and messed up dinner” you casually said, with a small giggle. “So I called Pizza Hut, hope it’s okay”.

“It’s okay!” he says. “I love pizza”

“I know, me too” you smile. You stand up and stretch your arms. “Okay, so I’ll take a shower before it gets here. How the fuck did I forget the stove on, I don’t know” you laugh. “I swear to God I would totally leave me at this point”.

Yoosung says nothing, shocked. He watches you walk to the bathroom and turn on the shower. He knows you like to joke around, but that joke had been pretty specific. Leave you? Why would he leave you? Over some burnt food?!

He waits until you come out, wrapped in a towel and hands you a cup of your favourite tea. You smile weakly.

“An award for my awful cooking?” you tease him.

“Hey! It’s just food! And you solved it. I don’t really care, MC, please let it go”. He sees your lips tremble a little bit. “Are you okay?”

You had a really rough day at work. You tell him all about it while sipping on the tea and he silently listens to you, nodding at the right times. The pizza finally arrives and he puts on your favourite show so you both can watch it. When you go to bed, he makes sure to give you extra cuddles, so you never have to feel any more pressure on yourself.

Zen

Honestly, he’s not the best at comedy. But he really likes how much you can make yourself laugh with your own jokes.

He comes home and hands you his tablet. You arch an eyebrow and look at him from the couch. He sits beside you and asks you to press play. You nod and comply his request.

It’s a video from rehearsal. He’s singing at he’s actually hitting all the notes just right. You smile softly, watching the video in silence. When it’s over, you turn and gives him a kiss on the cheek.

“You’re amazing, babe. You did the song soooo good! How can you be so talented?”

“Thank you, babe. And I don’t know, can’t help it. I’m just talented.” he shrugs, with a confident smile.

“Well, someone has to be” you responded quickly. His smiled faltered and he looked at you, confused.

“What are you talking about? You are talented too. I’ve seen your drawings, those building projects you have been working on. They’re masterpieces, MC, I love them and–”

“I didn’t get the job, Zen” you quickly answer, not looking at him. “They didn’t like those ‘masterpieces’” you added, making the colons signs with his fingers.

Oh. So they had already sent you the email.

Zen would put the tablet aside and hold you on the couch. Whisper over and over again how talented you truly are and how they were in the wrong for not noticing it.

“If they can’t see how brilliant you are, why would you want to work for them?” he asked. “I’ve been rejected more times that I can count. I know how you feel. And you know what makes me feel better?”

You look at him and shake your head.

Ten minutes later, you’re both riding on his motorcycle, feeling the air against your face. you hug him tighter and smile.

Jaehee

Jaehee’s not one for jokes. But she does enjoy the occasional laugh she has with you. You make tons of jokes, but, unlike Saeyoung, you know when to stop

“Babyyyyyyyy, I’m a mess!” you complained, stretching on your bed. Both of you were working on your laptops, when suddenly you put yours aside.

“C’mon. Help me, Excel Goddess! Can’t seem to make this thing to work and I need to show it to my boss tomorrow” you asked. Jaehee smiled softly, put her laptop aside and grabbed yours. She started typing formulas, fixing your work.

“You’re so good to me, baby. Thank youuuu. That’s why you’re the smart one here”. Jaehee just smiled, continuing her work.

“They should have taught me Excel in school instead of sports. Did anyone of my class turn out to be an athlete? No one. Are we struggling to get a job because we don’t know shit about Excel? We are”.

“Maybe that’s why I’m failing. Maybe that’s why I had to settle with this shitty job, because I can’t comprehend the monster that in Microsoft Excel. Maybe that’s also why my Computer Science teacher hated me at school” you said dramatically. Jaehee chuckled softly.

“Maybe that’s why my whole life is a mess right now. Maybe that’s why I can’t find joy in the things I do anymore, maybe that’s why my father left us. Because I’m a shitty person who can’t do Excel and can’t get a decent job”.

She stopped typing and looked over at you.

“MC. What are you saying?”

“I’m sorry. I’m just… I’m tired. Don’t think about it too much”

“I-… Do you want me to talk to Mr. Han? Maybe there’s a position and… I know C&R takes most of my time but an entry level job may be good– at least for your resumé and–”

“I’m fine. Don’t think about it, baby” you dismissed, but Jaehee grabbed your hand.

“Can’t you really find joy anymore?” she asked. You sighed.

“Happens to me when the cold weather beggins. Will go away in a couple of weeks” you shrugged. Jaehee squeezed your hand.

“Let me know if I can do anything to help you… well, find joy again”.

“You do help!” you assured her. “I can find bits of joy here” you smiled and gave her a small kiss. She smiled and kissed you back.

Jumin

Jumin doesn’t understand most of your jokes. Most of the times, you have to explain them to him. He doesn’t mind, but it’s only because he really enjoys watching you laugh at your own jokes. The sight of you giggling it’s enough to light up any day.

That day, you decided to visit him during lunch. Which wasn’t a rare occurrence, you tried to visit him at least once a week, making sure with Jaehee you wouldn’t be interrupting.

“Good afternoon, my love. Didn’t expect you here” he greeted you, giving your cheek a tender kiss when you approached him. You gave him the bento you had prepared and sat in front of him, on the other side of his desk.

“I know. I just thought your darling, loving wife might make an appearence. I do have to keep those heiresses away from you” you laughed. He smiled softly and opened his bento. “Don’t want them making you change your mind about marrying some poor girl who couldn’t even afford university by herself”.

Jumin arched his eyebrow while eating his lunch. “Is there a problem with your classes? I thought you were excited about finally attending university, even if most of the classes are online for security reasons. Are the professors not competent enough? Are they not grading you fairly?”

You laughed. “No, Jumin, classes are fine. I just… Don’t really fit with your social class, you know. I mean, I knew I wouldn’t fit, but someday’s it really… just… I don’t know. You can put a working class girl in a Channel, but you can’t really change who she really is inside, right?” you smiled weakly.

Jumin furrowed his eyebrows, visibly upset. “What are you talking about?”

Your facade disappear and you sighed. You reached out for his hand and held it tighly.

“Please, don’t misunderstand me. I love you, I really do. Nothing can change that. But I can’t– I can’t pretend I don’t hear the whispers when I come here to have lunch with you. How I listen to them mocking these nice clothes you bought for me” you said, pointing at your light blue dress he had given you. “I don’t… I didn’t grow up with these things. I must look really dumb pretending to be part of a class I’m not”.

“Who made that comment?” he asks, angrily.

You try to cover it up, but after some pushing, you tell him it’s the secretary that works two offices away. She has a desk beside Jaehee’s. Jumin stands up, not stopping when you ask him to. He takes one step outside his office and spots the secretary you must be talking about.

“You’re fired. Assistant Kang, take care of that paperwork”.

Jumin returned to his office and locked the door. You can’t believe what just happened. He walks over to you and lifts up your chin with his hand, gently.

“Don’t ever let anyone tell you you don’t belong here. Or that you don’t deserve elegant clothes or anything I want to give to you. I know you didn’t grow up the same as me, but that’s why I love you. Because you didn’t look at me and saw my money or C&R, you looked at me. At who I was. Who I could be. I want to be the best man I can be, just for you. And I want to please you, giving you anything I can so you can enjoy life at its fullest. Also, look at you” he said, taking a look at your whole outfit. “You look breathtaking. You look classy, and it’s not just the dress” he smirked, kissing your cheek and making his way to your neck, leaving you a mess of giggles.

Saeyoung

Ok, so we all agree he’s the king of dark humour and self-deprecating jokes.

And he’s used to be like that around you and sometimes you make the same jokes and you both just laugh it out.

So that day, he doesn’t notice something’s off from the start.

He’s fixing the robot cat, since it had been malfunctioning. You’re reading a magazine  on the couch while he’s sitting on the floor, both of you talking on and off.

“One day you should teach me who to do that. You know, fixing stuff and such”

“I wil! But you’ll need to call me sensei during our lessons.”

“Sensei? Isn’t that japanese?”

“It is! I’ll be your sensei if you wish. But what do you want to learn to fix?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t want to be the dumb one of the relationship”

“Awww. But we make such a good pair~”

“Just because you haven’t got tired of me yet” you chuckle.

“How could I get tired of your cooking? Never!~ I swear my mouth waters just thinking about your waffles.”

You laugh. “That’s all I am? My cooking?”

“Well, also how clean you keep this, Ms. Vanderwood hasn’t been complaining as much as before” he teases you.

“Well, you know I have to keep this apartment clean and your stomach full. That’s why I’m here, right? Until you get tired of my stupidness” you chuckle.

Saeyoung looks back at you, stopping on his fixing of robo-cat. He’s not longer smiling.

“… You really think that? That I think you’re stupid?”

“Well… I’m no genius. I’m just one more secretary, I’m… c’mon. You’d have more fun with someone who’s just as smart as you. I’m just here… until my time’s done. I’ve accepted it long ago.”

Suddenly he’s over you, making you lay on the couch, pinning both your arms over your head.

“Stop! What? Stop, just stop, what are you even saying?! You are kind, compassionate, generous and the most beautiful soul I’ve ever seen. You stayed by my side when I was at my worst. You saw all parts of me and still loved me. I’m the one who isn’t worthy of someone as loving and forgiving as you. I– I could never. I could have never rescued Saeran without you. I could have never been happy or even think about real happiness if it weren’t for you. So honestly, what if you don’t know anything about computers or hacking? That doesn’t matter to me. It’s you and your heart. It’s always been about your loving heart, MC. Please, please don’t be so hard on yourself. I’ve loved you my whole life. Even before I met you. I just didn’t realize it.”

Your eyes water

damn, saeyoung i almost cried as well, you fucker

You both stay on the couch, holding each other until you fall asleep. He keeps whispering soft and warm words to your ear every now and then, making sure you never doubt yourself again.

Saeran

“i want to die” “same”

It’s so usual for you both to make dark jokes, he doesn’t really notice when it stops being a joke to you.

You’re both laying on the couch. You’re on top of him, resting your head on his chest. You can’t remember how it started, but you start joking around.

“Your girlfriend’s a mess, you know”

“She is. Have you seen her hair?” he teased.

“What the hell does she think she’s doing? Have you seen the way she dresses?”

“Total mishap. It’s like a match made in hell”

“And her voice? More like a screech” you laugh, making fun of your own voice.

“Will she ever shut up?” he sighed dramatically, smirking softly.

“Why does she think she actually make someone happy?” you chuckle. His smile disappears.

Saeran stays silent for a minute. “You’re not happy?”

are you not happy with him? has he already bored you out of your mind? are you having second thoughts about your relationship? because he’s been trying, he’s been seeing a psychologist and even though there still isn’t a big change, he— is it because there hasn’t been a big change?

“Well, you’re not” you replied in a small voice. “And I can’t– And I don’t how– Maybe it’s me?”

So, Saeran decides to try something he’s been talking about with his psychologist. Better now than ever, he thought.

“I love you”

You raise your head, looking at him in disbelief. He’s never said that before. When you started dating, he had kissed you and you had understood how it was hard for him to express feelings due to the severe trauma he had gone through, so you hadn’t pushed him but… Saeran was still looking at you, a tense expression on his face. You suddenly realized you hadn’t said anything back.

“I love you too”. You had said it before. You had told him that a million times, but it was the first time you said it back.

“I know it seems I’m not making progress– But I think I am? I mean, I just told you that, right?” he said, scratching his head, a little nervous. “He said we were going to work on expressing feelings, and it was easier to express the most intense ones.”

“Your most intense feeling– one of your most intense feelings is loving me?” you asked, still surprised.

“Shut up” he said, making you laugh for real this time.

[redhoodssweetheart]

Under the Mask I

Pairing: Jason Todd x OC (Freya Andros)

Rating: M

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: None this chapter but violence, death, swearing, torture, and more to be added in future chapters. Angst and fluff

Description:  Freya Andros had harbored a crush on Jason Todd for awhile and then one day he took notice of her.  The two becoming friends and slowly it morphs into something more, but what happens when their plans are uprooted and Freya’s life is thrown through a loop.

A/N:  This takes place when Freya and Jason are 18, they are high school seniors.  This doesn’t necessarily follow any canon, but it will have some plot points from movies/comics.  Please bear with me as I’m new to writing for DC characters and am learning more about them as I go.

Jason Peter Todd hadn’t known of Freya’s existence for most of his time at Gotham Academy.  He had been popular with the girls and he had tended to leave a trail of broken hearts where he went.  He was even on the soccer team, which Freya would sometimes attend the practices to watch.

Despite never having talked to Jason Todd, Freya had formed a crush on him.  He had one of those easy-going smiles and he had the prettiest blue eyes she had ever seen.  It wasn’t fair how incredibly attractive he was and she often voiced this opinion to her friends who would just laugh and agree. 

Today was one of the days Freya attended the boys’ soccer practice.  She tried not to go too often for fear of being grouped in with the hordes of girls that seemed to be vying for Jason’s attention.  Freya didn’t just watch the practice, she also worked on homework as well and occasionally glanced up to see what exactly Jason was doing.

On this particular day Freya had her earbuds in and was listening to music, too engrossed in her work to really notice what was going on around her.  She had paid attention to the scrimmage some, but her focus had been pulled toward her science homework.  She hadn’t even realized that practice had ended and most of the people were beginning to clear out.

That was why she also hadn’t noticed Jason sneaking up to her before he pulled out her earbud startling her.  He was giving her one of his famous smiles and her heart was fluttering in her chest.  Was this real?  Or had she somehow been smacked upside the head with a soccer ball and she was merely passed out and dreaming all of this?

“You know I notice you sitting here a lot when we practice and yet you never act as they do, and to top it all off you do homework.  That’s a good way to make a guy feel like you’re not here for him,” he jested.

Freya snatched her earbud back from Jason which made him chuckle and she began clearing up her work.  “Who said I’m here for you, Todd?  Maybe I’m watching Ben or Derek.”  Despite having a monumental crush on Jason she was determined not to fall for his ways.  She refused to be yet another notch on his belt.

He cocked his head to the side, “I don’t think so, sweetheart.  I see you following me with your eyes.  You’re here for me and not Ben or Derek.”

Freya shouldered her bag and stood, Jason mimicking her position quickly.  He was a little taller than her, and her face came in total view of his chest.  She looked up and hated the way her cheeks began to heat, “Well it was nice talking to you, but I should get home.”

“Need a ride?”  He offered.

She smirked, “If you can tell me my name then sure, I’ll go with you.”  Jason’s eyebrows came together as he thought through all the names of the girls he knew.  Freya laughed, “Times up, Todd.  This was lovely, but I’m going to go.”

Jason watched as she descended the bleachers and towards the parking lot where it was just his motorcycle and her car left.  “Are you at least going to tell me your name?”  He called after her.

She turned and started to walk backward, “Where’s the fun in that?”  Then she gave him a jaunty little wave and continued on her way.

Jason raced home and headed down to the Batcave where Dick, Damian, and Tim were all sitting around doing various things.  Tim was fooling around on the computer, Damian was cleaning his sword, and Dick was on his phone talking to someone, probably Zatana by the goofy grin on his face.  Dick was the only one who looked up when he heard Jason’s footsteps.

“How was school?”  He questioned.

“Fine,” came Jason’s quick reply.  “Tim, I need a favor.”

Tim turned to face his older brother, “Whatever it is I won’t do it.”

“Hey I didn’t tell Dad that you hacked into the FBI three weeks ago, so this is me calling in a favor.  I just need you to find the name of a girl I go to school with,” Jason told him.

Damian looked up from what he was doing, “Has someone finally seen past your so-called charm and smile?”

Jason narrowed his eyes at the youngest member of Bruce’s family, and the only biological son in the group.  “No, she just didn’t tell me her name, and now I’m curious.”

“He totally got shot down,” Dick fake whispered to Damian.

“I didn’t get shot down!”  Jason protested just as laughter came from the three other boys.  “Whatever, can you help me or not, Tim?”

“I need a description,” he told Jason as he turned back to the computers and began to type away to pull up the student IDs for the girls at Jason’s school.  Jason rattled off the traits he remembered about the girl and finally, he got a picture of her.  “Freya Andros, her father runs Andros Technology and she’s in line to inherit everything.  I know her from the social circles we used to run in together.  She’s nice.”  He turned to face Jason, “Do not break her heart, Todd.”

Jason held up his hands, “Whoa, calm down Timmy.  I just wanted a name.”

Tim began to grumble about how that was not what he wanted from her and closed out of her file.  He stood then and said he had homework that he needed to finish and would be in his room if anyone needed him.  Jason looked at Damian and Dick who were both looking at him with neatly matching expressions.

“What?”  Jason asked innocently.

“Don’t ‘what’ us,” Dick began.  “You do have a reputation Jay.  And I’ve heard Tim talk about her before.  She and Tim spent a lot of time together when they were younger and if you pursue this girl then just Tim’s going to go into protective brother mode.”

“Who said I was going to hurt her?  I merely wanted to know her name,” he stated calmly.  “Now if you’ll excuse me I have home to finish.”  He left the Batcave and headed upstairs to grab something to eat and get started on his homework.

Who was he fooling?

He was going to go stalk Freya on her social media accounts and see what he could dig up about her before tomorrow came.  He found her Instagram and Twitter pages, flipping through them he learned that she portrayed herself differently.  Instagram showed a higher society part of her life.  The glitz and glam and days out with her friends.

But her Twitter was filled with book recommendations and quotes from poetry or geeking out over a new movie.  He saw she and Tim interacted more on Twitter, the both of them talking about new technology being developed.  Soon it was well past one o’clock and Jason was finding himself laughing at a video he had discovered of a younger Tim and her together performing an awful dance cover of U Can’t Touch This by MC Hammer.

He fell asleep that night still thinking about her and the smile she had on her face.  She was going to be trouble for him, but he kinda wanted to know where it would lead.

That morning as Jason pulled into school he noticed the usual gaggle of girls waiting for him on the front steps.  Freya, as usual, was not among them.  He had only ever noticed her at the games or practices.  At first he thought that she just like doing her homework there sometimes, but then one day he had noticed her following him with her eyes.  He tested a theory and lifted his jersey to wipe sweat from his face, for a brief moment his muscular chest and abdomen were exposed and when he glanced back at her she was blushing.

He then began to wonder why she never tried anything with him.  She never tried to touch his arms or chest like the others and she never flirted with him.  When he had noticed her the previous night on the bleachers that was the first time they had ever conversed and the first time he had managed to get her alone.  He knew she liked him and when she flat out refused his offer to drive her home it made him even more curious about her.

“Hey Jason,” one of the girls latched onto his arm, this was Cynthia, leader of the cheerleaders at Gotham Academy.  “You didn’t respond to my texts last night,” he looked at her and noticed the pout there.

The irritated him, “I was busy.”  He tugged his arm free and maneuvered away from her.  

Cynthia narrowed her eyes at the way he was behaving, “What’s your deal this morning, Jason?”

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, he really didn’t have time for this, “Look, I’m not in the mood.  So why don’t you go flirt with someone else?”

“Asshole,” she muttered as she turned and stalked away with her friends following after her.

Jason continued down the halls until he came to a stop when he saw Freya at her locker putting her things away and checking over what she needed for her first class.  Jason made his way toward her and leaned against the lockers next to hers, “Hello Freya.”

She looked up and saw Jason standing there, “So you figured it out, huh?”

“I had a little help, apparently you know my younger brother Tim,” he confessed.

She arched a brow, “Tim warned me that you had figured it out.”  She turned back to her locker, “But I’m afraid the offer to drive me home has now expired.”

“Can I just ask why you seem to want nothing to do with me?”  He rested his head against the locker and watched her.  “My brother’s already told me not to break your heart.  I’m pretty sure he’ll murder me if I hurt you.”

“Timmy?  Murder?” She snorted.  “Timmy wouldn’t murder you, I’m pretty sure he’d torture you psychologically first and then murder you.”

She had him there, Tim probably would do that if he hurt her.  “Why don’t we start over?  Hi, my name is Jason Todd, and you are?”  He held out his hand to her for her to shake.

Freya eyed it for a moment before gently slipping her hand into his and saying, “Freya Andros, it’s nice to meet you Jason.”

[echoes-of-realities]

hello! this is completely random but i saw in your bio that you have a BA in anthropology. I'm currently trying to figure out what I want to do with my life and anthropology sounds really nice. Are the jobs opportunities good when you graduate? I'm also from Canada! Thank you!

Hey! I’m going to put all this under a cut cause it’s, uh, a Lot of information lmao.

So I don’t know how much you know about anthropology, but the cool thing about it if you’re going into research, is that you can do basically anything with it tbh! At its most simple, anthro is the study of humanity, so that includes literally anything to do with humans. What to study residential school experiences of Indigenous people in Canada? There’s a plethora of research opportunities about First Nations people, usually under the sub-discipline of Indigenous anthropology. What to study the effects of the lack of media representation for LGBTQ+ people? Queer Theory is a huge aspect of modern anthropology. What to study human evolution in the Horn of Africa? Paleoanthropology is a huge field. What to know Far Too Much about projectile points across the prairies? Archaeology is for you. Want to study RV-ing retirees? There’s literally a book on it.

Anthropology is broken down into four sub-disciplines: 

Linguistic Anthropology: Studies relationship between culture and language; everything from language revitalization to how language usage can further oppression. This field is closely tied to linguistics, but is actually very different to it. Linguistics generally studies the structure of language, while linguistic anthropology studies how language can produce/maintain culture, and vice versa.

Biological Anthropology: Sometimes called physical anthropology, it’s the study of humans and non-human primates in terms of biology, evolution, and demography; paleoanthropology and primatology both fit here, as does forensic anthropology. I.e., the TV show Bones, except actually accurate lmao. Don’t get me wrong, I love Bones and it’s actually what got me interested in anthropology in the first place, but literally every time I watch an ep now I’m like “You can’t estimate sex from that. That’s wrong you can’t estimate race. Age estimates range from 24-82 not within two years. You can’t do that!” ff

Archaeology: There’s a Whole Bunch of specializations in arch like bioarchaeology or lithic analysis or pottery analysis; archaeology is kind of….. lagging behind the other subdisciplines in terms of feminist theory and queer theory and treating PoC respectfully. (Especially Indigenous people, NAGPRA exists because archaeologists continually dug up Indigenous graves and then refused to give the Native Americans and First Nations the remains back so……) But! There are a lot of younger archaeologists reforming the discipline and making feminist and queer theory more common in the field. Black Feminist Archaeology by Whitney Battle-Baptiste is the first archaeologists that comes to mind off the top of my head in terms of including more PoC voices in archaeology, but there’s Many others doing good work!

This is totally a self-plug lmao but if you want to know more about homophobia and sexual harassment in archaeology, which is unfortunately rather commonplace, here’s a link to my final project for my Gender in Archaeology class about the topic, it’s a narrative video game and I’ve Very Proud of it.

Cultural Anthropology: Just like it sounds, this is the study of cultures. “Culture” is a Really Contentious term in anthropology and there’s no way I’m getting into the decades of debates here lmao. But essentially, cultural anthropologists study all aspects of different cultures, from the Big Men of the Indigenous peoples in Papua New Guinea to gender relations in small fishing villages in Portugal to homeless drug addicts in urban centres. Often issues of cultural appropriation, racism, homophobia, gender vs. sex (spoiler: they’re Very Different and completely depend on the culture), and oppression fall into this subdiscipline, but they can be explored in every field of anthro.

If you Really want a taste of Cultural Anthropology, watch Ongka’s Big Moka, which I’ve watched no less than seven times because basically Every Intro level anthro class plus second year classes without prereq’s show it. My best friend who’s also in anthro and I joke that we know more about Ongka than we do certain family members, which is 100% true.

So, as you can see based on the subdisciplines, there’s a Whole Realm of possibilities when it comes to jobs. The most common is basically going into research (which includes ethnographies), becoming a professor at a post-secondary institution, or going into applied anthropology.

Research: Research can be done on basically any topic, but anthropological research is rather unique (some sociology research uses the same practices, but not as commonly as anthro). Of course, there’s the research that archaeology and paleanthropology do that falls closer to a “hard science”, but cultural anthropological research is different. Ethnographic research is holistic and includes living in the community for an extended period of time (usually over a year), learning the language, and participant observation (you must participate in the community you’re studying; this is where researchers in “hard sciences” usually scoff and accuse anthropology as being subjective and not objective, which is true, but what most scientists don’t like to acknowledge is that all science is subjective because it is done by imperfect humans).

Professor: In order to become a prof, you need to have a master’s degree (people with masters can teach undergrad, people with a doctorate can teach graduate courses), so you do need an area of research to do your thesis on. Most anthropologists eventually become college/university profs once their research days end, or they teach during the school year and do their research during the summer. One of my fave profs does bioarchaeology in Tanzania every couple summers with some grad students so!

Applied Anthropology: Applied anthropology is probably the biggest area of careers tbh. Technically applied anthropology is just anthro applied to practical problems, so it can technically be anything. Most often, it includes medical anthropology (which is one of my areas of research studies how cultural ideologies of health and wellbeing go into healing, Lots of interesting commentaries on Western medicine and traditional medicine and how one culture’s idea of “healthy” is often Very Different to another’s), work with NGOs or activism organizations, archaeologists, museum or archive work, ecological or environmental anthropology, political anthropology, economic anthropology, forensic anthropology, and so many more tbh.

So yeah, that’s a rundown of anthropology and the ways your career can go. Honestly—and this isn’t me being all “my field is the Best Field” or anything lol—I think everyone would benefit from taking a couple anthro courses. I took The Anthropology of Sex, Gender, and Age in culture my first semester of my first year, and it’s still one of my favourite courses ever, and honestly I think that everyone going to college should take that course. Not only do you learn about how sex, gender, and age all culturally determined (no, sex is not biological because “biological” is culturally determined; most Papua New Guinean tribes have no concept of chromosomes, so “sex” isn’t based on chromosomes for them), but you’re also taught empathy in that class. Same with the Anthropology of Race and Racism class I took. Being uncomfortable is the most important part of unlearning toxic ideologies, and those two classes really embrace the uncomfortable. The biggest thing you need to be an anthropologist is empathy imo. The main goal of anthropology is to gain an emic perspective (i.e., an “insider’s” perspective) when doing research. I was always Really interested in social studies as a kid because I loved learning about different cultures so anthro is basically the “adult” version of that lmao and anthropology is essentially an extension of that.

I will say, that it’s pretty hard to do anything in anthro without at least a masters degree, so you have to be prepared to do A Lot of schooling. As for job prospects after grad, it depends entirely on where you live and what field you wanna go into. There’s far more job opportunities for anthropology in Toronto than in a small town with 7,000 people. And the fields really matter too. For example, if you want to practice forensic anthropology in Canada, you essentially have to wait for the current forensic anthropologist to die or retire, whichever comes first, before you even have a chance at a job. But as for medical anthropology or anthropology that involves working with or researching for Indigenous peoples, especially in Canada, there’s basically always job opportunities because they are in high demand of research or of people who can act as consultants.

Anyways, this is Long but I hope it helps, and btw, this basically only scratches the Surface of anthropology. I didn’t go into anthro’s long, uh, let’s say shitty history, for simplicity’s sake, of racism and colonialism here, not because I’m ignore it but just because it’s Long and I don’t have the time right now lol. But most modern good anthropologists don’t shy away from criticizing anthro and being vocal about it’s past and current issues, as well as advocating for how to fix them. Anyways. If you have any other questions feel free to send me another ask, or just PM me too! I’m happy to give information about anthropology!!

[freeyourheartandsoul]

Because I Had You.

Prompt: Brett Talbot; “Because I Had You” – Shawn Mendes // @deepblueo-cean

Author’s Note: Whoa. This one’s a doozy. Enjoy! :)

Master List | Wattpad 

Because I Had You.

I think it's time that I be honest Should've told you not to go Thought I knew just what I wanted I didn't know myself at all You're with somebody I can't be, yeah But I can tell that you're happy

Do you ever say or do something and instantly feel the regret because you know you can’t take it back? Like posting a racy picture on social media for the world to see? Getting trashed the night before a big game? Lying to your best friend? Telling someone you’re in love with them when they clearly don’t feel the same way? Or worse, telling someone you love to leave?

That last one is a doozy because sometimes they actually listen to you. Then you’re left with this sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. Regret gnaws its way through and you wonder what the hell you were thinking. You try to convince yourself it will be okay, she knows you didn’t mean it. She’ll come back.

Days turn to weeks and weeks turn to months, and she’s still gone.

With a deep sigh, Brett ruffles his hair a little before leaving his head in his hands. He knew this was coming. He’s had a gut feeling for weeks now. He just wishes it was wrong. Scratch that, he wishes he could go back in time.

Six Months Ago

“You’re joking, right?” (Y/N) questions as she stares at Brett in disbelief.

Brett shakes his head slowly as he avoids eye contact with her, “I just think it’s the best for both of us. It’s going to –“

She cuts him off, “you seriously want to break up just because we’re going to different colleges?” Brett opens his mouth to say something, but she keeps talking. “They’re not even two hours apart, Brett!”

“I know that, but don’t you think we’ll both be missing out on some college experiences because we’re so worried about each other?” He tries to reason.

“What? Like hooking up with random sorority girls?” (Y/N) responds with an arched eyebrow.

Brett meets her glare, “you know that’s not what I mean.”

“No, actually I don’t, Brett. Just the other day we were talking about our plans to see each other on weekends, and now you’re completely done because you want to ‘experience’ things?” She pauses, getting more heated by the second. “Sounds like an easy out if you ask me. Oh, but wait, you’re not asking me how I feel about this.”

Brett sighs, “come on, (Y/N). You’ve heard all the stories about couples staying together when they go to different schools. It puts one hell of a strain on the relationship.”

“Yeah, but I also know us. I know that we’re not those other couples. I know that we’re stronger than them. Well, at least I thought we were.” At this point, a mix of anger and despair radiates from her body as she continues, “and I also know that love doesn’t come easy for anyone. It takes hard work and struggle sometimes. You must be willing to go through that together. I am, but I guess you aren’t.”

He could see the disappointment and hurt on her face. This was the last thing she was expecting. They’d been together for three years, and now he’s suddenly breaking up with her? Hell, he’d be upset if the shoe was on the other foot. If he’s being honest, he’s not even sure this is the best idea for either of them. All he knows for sure is that he’s had this gut feeling that they need to experience life on their own for a while.

“I don’t know what you want me to say…” He lets the sentence hang, unable to even look her in the eye.

(Y/N) scoffs, “I want you to say this is some stupid, sick joke.”

“It’s not like I’m saying we have to end things right now. Just before we leave.” Brett knew how stupid that sounded as soon as it came out.

“Oh! You mean four more whole months? That’s so nice of you.” Her response dripped with sarcasm, and he knew this was the end. “Screw you, Brett.” She states before finally storming off.

Present

Brett slowly looks back up at his laptop screen. There, in an enlarged photo, is (Y/N) smiling bright with who looks like her new boyfriend. They’re on the beach at sunset with the Santa Monica Pier in the background. She’s holding on tight to a purple stuffed monkey, one arm around him as she smiles at the camera. He has his eyes on her with a smile just as big as hers. Brett knows that smile. It’s the “how the hell did I get so lucky” smile. The one he used to wear all the time around (Y/N).

Not anymore, though. Now, he sits two hours away at UCSD feeling that pang of regret.

For months, he and (Y/N) managed to avoid each other before they left for school. Once he was at UCSD and she was at UCLA, it got easier. The last two months have been so jam-packed with classes, lacrosse, and meeting new people, he’s been able to keep himself from checking her social media. They weren’t friends on the accounts anymore, but she also didn’t have him blocked. So, when he was scrolling through his Facebook feed and her post popped up, thanks to an old, mutual friend getting tagged in it, it wasn’t that much of a surprise. But it still stung.

It's time for me to finally meet somebody new Take her to all the places that I took us to And she might help me forget But loving her is something I could never do Because I had, because I had you

Ever since seeing that picture of (Y/N) and her new boyfriend, Brett’s made it his mission to try to move on as well. It’s been kind of difficult, though, because he keeps finding himself comparing girls to her. He admits it’s a pretty dick move on his part, but it seems impossible not to. Every girl he thinks to ask out, he gets in his head and starts listing all the reasons not to. The girl is either too much like (Y/N) or not enough like (Y/N).

Clearly, he has a type.

Which is why he’s decided that he’s going to have to step out of his comfort zone and maybe go for someone he typically wouldn’t. Instead of petite girls with dark brown hair and big doe eyes, it’s time for something new. Who knows, maybe he’ll realize that girls like (Y/N) aren’t his type at all. She’s just all he’s ever known to be interested in.

So, here he is on a date at the beach with a pretty red-head with emerald eyes and fair, freckled skin. She’s beautiful by every definition of the word. Brett didn’t miss the way other guys did double-takes when they walk by. Rachel doesn’t seem to care, though. Either that, or she’s just oblivious to it because her focus has stayed on him. Even when a guy blatantly asked for her number while Brett was sitting right beside her, she brushed the guy off. It was nice to have that kind of attention again.

The surprising thing is that she’s kept his attention as well. Not once has he thought about (Y/N) in the last two hours. They’re so wildly different, it’s easy not to. Rachel is more cheery and social, whereas (Y/N) tended to keep to herself. He’s learned that Rachel is a math and science major, whereas (Y/N) always loathed the subjects. Rachel comes from a large family in the city, while (Y/N) is from the small town of Beacon Hills and only has a younger sister. They couldn’t be more different.

And Brett really kind of loves it.

“I’ve had a lot of fun today,” Rachel states with a smile as they start walking back to his car.

“Me too.” Brett responds honestly. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a good, relaxing beach day.”

“Really?” Brett simply nods. “Why?”

He shrugs his shoulders, “Once I got to UCSD, I sort of buried myself in school work, lacrosse… anything to keep me busy and my mind off things.”

“What were you trying not to think about?” She asks, trying not to seem too nosy.

He hesitates for a minute and rubs the back of his neck, “an ex.”

Rachel nods in understanding but takes a deep breath before asking another question. “Are you still just trying not to think about her?”

“No.” He mentally kicks himself for answering so quickly.

“Hey,” she stops them from walking by grabbing his hand and looking him in the eyes. “It’s okay if you are. I get it.”

Her green eyes stare up at him, and with the sun, he can see specks of gold. The sun has also brought out more freckles across the bridge of her nose. Her hair has those perfect beach waves after drying in the California heat. There’s no denying that she’s gorgeous, even after spending the day in the sun, ocean, and sand. He could also tell that she’s being sincere. She did understand what he’s going through, even though she didn’t know the whole story or anything about his past relationship.

“You don’t care?” He questions with knitted brows.

She shrugs with a small smile, “of course I care, but I’ve also had to move on from a past relationship. So, I understand the need for a distraction sometimes.”

“You’re not just a distraction, you know.” Brett states with a shake of his head. “I do really like you.”

Her smile broadens, “good. I really like you too.” She leans up on her tip toes and pulls him down a little by the hand before kissing him.

Rachel is just what Brett needs – beautiful, smart, understanding, carefree. And yet, as their fingers interlace, and her lips met his, he felt a sudden pang in his chest. Not over the kiss or even her. Just that she isn’t (Y/N), and she never would be. It made him wonder if he’d ever be able to love her at all, much less the way he loved (Y/N).

I remember when I told you That you and I will go down in history together, yeah And does your sister ask about me? And you and I, what we had, is it gone forever? You're with somebody I can't be But I can tell that you're happy

It’s Halloween night. Most of the dorm is at the biggest frat party of the year, including Brett’s roommate. In fact, Rachel will be here any minute to go also. They’re going as Pebbles and Bam Bam from The Flintstones. It was her idea, but he agreed because it’s pretty good. Not many people their age know the classic, so he was surprised and happy that Rachel did. It’s always been one of his favorites.

Rachel’s surprised him with a lot of things. Turns out, they have a lot more in common than he originally thought. For example, she knows a lot about lacrosse because both of her brothers and her dad grew up on the sport. She loves video games, another side effect of having brothers. Most people perceive her as a typical girly-girl, but she actually prefers comfy clothes and no make-up. She still loves waking up on Saturday mornings and eating a bowl of cereal while watching old cartoons. She’s into comic books and all the shows and movies that go with them. The list goes on.

She’s actually been really good for Brett. He hasn’t thought about (Y/N) as much the last few months, but today is different. Halloween is was their day.

He taps a pen against his desk repeatedly as he stares at the search engine on Facebook. (Y/N)’s name is already typed in, all he has to do is hit search. He knew that once he did, though, there’s no going back from what he knows he’ll see. He doesn’t even know why he felt enticed to look on her page. It’s obviously just a way to torture himself. But he just couldn’t help the urge to check in on her today. If he doesn’t hurry, though, Rachel will probably show up.

So, he finally hits the search button, clicks on her profile and waits in nervous suspense. Once loaded, (Y/N)’s most recent post – literally from an hour ago – hits him hard. She’s still with the new guy and they’re dressed up as Alvin and the Chipmunks – (Y/N) and Maggie’s favorite cartoon. The boyfriend is Alvin, (Y/N) is Simon, and Maggie is Theodore. Alvin is grinning mischievously while the girls roll their eyes on either side of him.

As Brett keeps looking at the picture, he can’t help but remember that used to be him. Last year they dressed up as Tigger, Pooh, and Piglet. They used to go all out because Halloween also happens to be Maggie’s birthday. She’s grown up so much since the last time he saw her. She’s as tall as (Y/N) now. They could almost pass for twins.

“Damn it.” He mutters, wondering if he should wish her a happy 14th birthday. He also wonders if she ever asks (Y/N) about him, or if she hates him just as much as (Y/N) probably does.

Just as he picks up his phone to shoot Maggie a simple “Happy Birthday” text, there’s a knock on his door. He quickly exits out of (Y/N)’s Facebook page before answering it.

“Hey!” Rachel greets cheerily before standing on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. She looks cute in her costume.

“Hey backatcha. You look great!” He responds, trying to be as chipper as her, but still thinking about Maggie and (Y/N).

A grin spreads across her face, “you don’t look so bad yourself, Bam! Bam!” Brett chuckles a little as he holds out his arms, showing off his costume. “You ready?”

“Yup. Let’s party.” He shoves his phone in the make-shift pocket Rachel added to his costume and closes the door behind them.

It’s time for him to be fair to Rachel and stop thinking about his ex. She’s clearly happily moved on. Even Maggie seems to like the new boyfriend. It’s time for Brett to accept that he can’t be that guy anymore.

It's time for me to finally meet somebody new Take her to all the places that I took us to And she might help me forget But loving her is something I could never do Because I had, because I had you

Brett’s not exactly sure how he ended up in this situation. One minute he and Rachel were talking about New Year’s Eve plans, the next they’re in the McCall house for their annual party. Everyone came, including (Y/N) and the new guy, which Brett is kind of surprised about. He didn’t volunteer to come here, so he wonders if (Y/N) felt the same way. If she did, she wasn’t showing it. Maybe he should attempt to do the same instead of sulking.

“Your friends are so nice!” Rachel exclaims as she comes back from the bathroom.

He nods in agreement, “yeah, they’re not too bad.”

Just as he says it Liam, Mason, and Corey walk up. “Who? Us? Yeah, we’re pretty great.” Liam states smugly.

“Except for these guys, they’re losers,” Brett jokes with a grin.

“Whatever. I can still kick your ass on the lacrosse field.”

“HA! Okay. Whatever you say, Liam.” Brett says as he pats Liam on the shoulder.

“You guys play lacrosse too?” Rachel asks curiously.

Brett shakes his head, “Liam and Corey try to play.”

“Well, at least I didn’t bring my girlfriend to the same party my ex is at.” Liam tries to throw another punch in the game, but the group goes silent. Brett glares at him hard as his hand curls into a fist.

“Awkward…” Mason states as he looks back and forth between his friends.

Rachel has a look of shock on her face, but she quickly composes herself. “Excuse me.” The guys watch as she makes her way through the kitchen and living room and out the front door.

Brett turns with a glare at Liam again, “thanks for that.” He says sarcastically before storming off after Rachel.

He finds her standing behind his car, her suitcase and backpack for the week on the ground beside her feet. Her back is to him, but he could tell she’s upset by the way her arms are crossed over her chest. With a deep exhale, he prepares himself for the conversation to come before making his way to stand beside her. He stands in a similar position as her but shoves his hands deep in his pockets instead.

“An Uber will be here any minute to take me to the airport.” She states stoically before he has a chance to say one word.

“You don’t have to leave. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

At this, Rachel turns to face him, “are you still in love with her?”

Brett swallows hard, to which she scoffs and shakes her head. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”

“So, you aren’t still in love with her?” Her eyebrow arches and her eyes don’t leave his.

“You can’t just get over someone you were with for three years, Rachel.” He tries to get her to understand.

She shakes her head, “unbelievable.”  She sucks in a deep breath and releases it slowly as she looks around, obviously trying to calm herself. “So, what the hell was this? A rebound?” She asks, gesturing between them.

Brett shakes his head quickly, “no. I’ve been trying to move on.”

“Trying?”

“What do you want me to say, Rachel? You knew on our first date what I was going through and said you understood. You even called yourself a distraction!” He throws his hands up in frustration but wasn’t expecting the slap that came across his face.

She glares at him with tears forming in her eyes, “screw you, Brett.”

Her words stung harder than her slap. Suddenly, he was taken back to the day he broke up with (Y/N) and she said those exact same words. Rachel doesn’t know the details of his break up with (Y/N). Hell, she doesn’t even know her name or which girl inside she is. She’s never asked, and he’s never voluntarily talked about it. The way he saw it, the less he thought of or talked about (Y/N), the easier it would be to move on. Clearly, he was wrong.

Brett was so lost in his thoughts, he didn’t even see the Uber pull up or Rachel get in the car. He didn’t even get to apologize for his stupid comment. So much for that relationship, he thought with a heavy sigh. He walks back inside and tries to avoid any conversation about where Rachel went and why. He also avoids (Y/N) like the plague.

At least for now.

There's nothin', no There's nothin' left to lose Because I had you, babe There's nothin' Nothin' that I could do I wish I had you But I think it's time I finally found somebody new And tell myself that she's the one that get me through And she might help me forget But loving her is something I just couldn't do Because I had you

The new year came and went, and the spring semester of Brett’s freshman year is in full swing. Since the New Year’s Eve party, he’s tried talking to Rachel, but she’s mastered the art of avoiding him. She even somehow switched classes he knew they were supposed to have together. Clearly, he royally screwed up that relationship.

It’s for the best, though, really. The whole ordeal helped him come to terms with a few things. One, he’s not ready to move on to a new relationship. Why? Because of number two: he’s still in love with (Y/N). If he’s being honest with himself, he’s known that fact for a while, but wanted to try to get over her since she was obviously over him.

Now, with spring break starting, Brett wonders if (Y/N) will be back in Beacon Hills again like him. Even though she’s still with the new guy, at least last he saw on New Year’s Eve, he needs to tell her how he feels and that he made a mistake. She’s liable to just slap him across the face like Rachel did, but that’s a risk he’s willing to take. At least she would know.

At this point, he really has nothing left to lose.

***

Brett’s been back in Beacon Hills for a few days now and still hasn’t seen any sign of (Y/N). Embarrassingly enough, he’s even driven by her house, but her car isn’t there. He refuses to creep on her social media to see if she’s even town, though. He doesn’t want to come off as too desperate, although admittedly, he is a tad desperate.

If it’s meant to be, it will be. That’s what he keeps telling himself at least.

So, as he walks into the coffee shop and spots (Y/N) sitting at a corner table with her laptop out and sipping on what he’s sure is a chai latte with a bit of honey, he knows this is his chance. As he glances around the small shop, he notices it’s pretty busy for a late morning. In fact, the only empty seat is across from her – another sure sign this is his chance.

He orders himself an Americano and keeps stealing glances her way as he waits to make sure she doesn’t leave. She doesn’t seem to be going anywhere anytime soon. She seems engrossed in whatever she’s doing on her computer. Hopefully it’s not anything too important so he won’t feel guilty about interrupting her.

Once he gets his coffee, he nervously makes his way over, mentally preparing himself on what to say. All this time he’s wanted to talk to her, but he’s never actually thought of the right words. With his luck, he’ll get word vomit and say something completely stupid.

“Is this seat taken?” He asks after clearing his throat.

(Y/N)’s head instantly pops up from her screen at the sound of his voice; a look of surprise evident on her face. “Um… no.”

He pulls out the chair and takes a seat all the while (Y/N) eyes him questionably. “Thanks.” She just nods slowly. “I’m not stalking you, by the way.”

She laughs a little, “I didn’t say you were.”

“Right.” He rubs the back of his neck nervously, suddenly unable to make eye contact with her, but he can still feel her eyes on him.

“Are you okay?”

This causes him to finally look back up at her and nod. “Yeah. I just, uh… this isn’t awkward for you?”

“The guy who dumped me now sitting across from me acting weird? No, not at all,” she answers with a grin full of sarcasm.

He chuckles and rubs the back of his neck again. “Guess I asked for that one.” (Y/N) just nods. After a beat of silence, he speaks up again, “do you maybe wanna take a walk with me?”

She eyes him curiously, “why?”

Brett shrugs, “to talk.”

She thinks about it for a minute before closing her laptop, “don’t make me regret this.” She states seriously before putting her computer in her bag.

He shakes his head feverishly, “I won’t.”

---

“So…” (Y/N) lingers after five minutes into their walk and nothing has been said.

“So…”

“Brett, you’re the one who wanted to talk,” she says with a small laugh.

“Oh, right.” Brett rubs the back of his neck again. This is harder than he thought it would be. He hasn’t been this nervous around her since they first started dating. “You know I’m sorry, right? For how I ended things…”

She exhales deeply as she looks straight ahead, “I’m not going to lie, being blindsided like that hurt like hell.” He nods his head and digs his hands in his pockets. “But if you think I’m holding a grudge against you or something, I’m not. I got over it and moved on.”

He nods again, “I saw.” She looks at him skeptically. “At the New Year’s Eve party.” He wasn’t about to confess to creeping on her social media yet.

“Oh. Yeah.” A beat of silence passes before she speaks again, “I saw that you moved on too.” Her tone was indifferent, almost as if she were trying not show how she felt about him being with someone else.

A sort of bitter chuckle escapes from him, “yeah. That ended that day.”

She looks at him confused, “why?”

“Honest answer?” He asks looking at her with raised eyebrows, and she nods. “You.”

(Y/N) lets his response sink in as they walk in silence again. How is she supposed to respond to that? On one end, she’s honestly kind of happy they were over because there’s still a teensy bit of her that was jealous when she saw them together. She also isn’t too mad about him getting dumped. On the other end, she does still care for him and wouldn’t wish heartbreak on anyone. Even if they broke her heart.

“Listen, don’t feel bad about it or anything.” He suddenly breaks the silence as if he was reading her mind. She looks over at him. “It was inevitable.”

“Why?” She asks again, suddenly feeling like a curious five-year-old.

He shrugs his shoulders, “because I was lying to myself.” Time to get real honest, Brett. Don’t hold back. “I saw on Facebook that you were moving on, and I thought I needed to try too. At first, it was hard because I just kept comparing every girl to you. I even did it with Rachel, but sometimes I was able to not think about you or our relationship. And I thought, okay, I can do this. I can move on with her.”

(Y/N) listens intently as they walk and he talked. Granted, it’s difficult to hear him talk about another girl. “So, what happened?” She asks, swallowing her ego to hear what he had to say.

He exhales before continuing, “there were moments when I just knew I couldn’t be what she wanted. Like when we kissed, and I didn’t feel that spark. Or when we held hands, and they didn’t seem to fit perfectly together. Or the way we never bickered… over anything. It was just too easy with her.”

She looks at him confused, “usually easy is a good thing.”

“I guess,” he responds with a shrug. “But easy is boring.” Glancing over at her, he could see that his words hit a chord with her somehow. Maybe she was thinking about her own new relationship.

After a few minutes of letting her think, he interrupts her thoughts by clearing his throat again. “Anyways, I pushed my own feelings aside because I still wanted to try to make it work. I had to. If I wanted to get over and move on from you, then I had to try.” He pauses for a second, “but then New Year’s Eve rolled around. I didn’t want to go to the McCall’s party, but I couldn’t convince her not to without being honest about why I didn’t want to go. Not long after we got there, Liam let it slip that I brought her to a party my ex was at. She walked away, and I followed her. She asked me questions I had been asking myself for the longest time, but she already knew the answers to them. Then she left.”

“What questions did she ask?” (Y/N) asks even though she was pretty sure she knew.

Brett looks over at her incredulously, “what do you think?”

She sighs deeply in frustration and uncertainty. This whole confession was so unexpected. She’s not sure how to feel about it. Brett’s the only one that’s ever had the capability to break her heart, and she never thought he’d do it, but he did. He shattered it, and it took her so long to get out of the depression that it put her in. She forced herself to move on by burying her feelings for him to the depths of her heart. Then she met Jason and started to feel happy again, even in love. At least, that’s what she thought.

Now, her heart is conflicted. If she’s being really honest, it’s always been conflicted. Ever since New Year’s Eve, though, her feelings for Brett have come back full force. So much so that even Jason noticed. A few weeks after the party, they got into a huge argument that ended things between them. Like Brett, she realized that it was inevitable.

However, she’s not sure she’s ready to go there with Brett again. He’s always had her heart, but now it’s tattered and torn, and she’s scared.

“Can we stop for a minute?” Brett asks suddenly.

They’ve been walking for a while now, and she hadn’t even realized how far they’d gotten from the coffee shop. Now they were at the park a few blocks away. He guides her over to a bench nearby and they take a seat.

“What are you thinking?”

(Y/N) laughs ironically and shakes her head, “so much.” She puts her head in her hands and runs her hands through her hair. “What do you expect me to do with all this, Brett?” She asks, turning to face him.

“I don’t expect anything really.” She laughs again and shakes her head. “Really, (Y/N). I just wanted you to know.”

“Know what exactly? That you realized you made a mistake after you tried to be with someone else?” Now she was just being mean and bitter. How else was she supposed to react, though? Just run back into his arms? Tempting, but also terrifying.

Brett shakes his head, “I didn’t realize it after Rachel broke up with me. I just wouldn’t admit it to myself before then.” He pauses to take one of her hands in his and stares right into her big, brown eyes. “What I realized is that I couldn’t love her, or anyone for that matter, because I had you, (Y/N).”

A tear slips down (Y/N)’s cheek and he quickly wipes it away. “Jason broke up with me.” She confesses. If he was being completely transparent, then she probably should to.

Brett tries to contain the joy that ran through his veins at that confession. He hates that she got her heart broken again, but he’s hoping it will work in his favor. “He’s an idiot.”

She shakes her head, “no. He’s actually pretty smart. He and Rachel should meet. They have a lot in common.”

He looks at her confused, “like what?”

“Like they’re both footnotes in someone else’s love story.” Her brown eyes stare into his blue ones as she offers a small smile.

As bad as that fact is, Brett couldn’t help but smile a little about it. (Y/N) basically admitted to still having feelings for him too. He didn’t want to jump the gun, though. So, he leaned in a little until their faces were mere inches apart. When she didn’t pull away or turn her cheek, he took that as a good sign to kiss her. So, he does. Their lips meet, her hands instantly go to the nape of his neck, and they kiss like no time had been lost.

The End.

[clonerightsagenda]

This was last minute but I'm a grad student so I was mostly drafting from life anyway. You can tell I was losing steam by the end though. All the library details are from my uni library, although I have never seen any dead Union soldiers, or any other ghosts for that matter. The creepy grad cages are my favorite part of giving tours.

 tuesjade prompt: school

The third floor of the library is so quiet every keystroke echoes. Last time you heard someone walking through, it was the security guard on their hourly late night round. You picked this spot for its isolation.

The door leading out into the central stacks creaks open, and you listen for the student's footsteps passing by. Instead, the curtain between your carrel and the stacks twitches back, and you squint out to see Jade waving at you from the other side of the grating. "I like your shower curtain."

"You would. School mascots are just anthro with a veneer of plausible deniability.”

You don't mention that the curtain is on your side of the door, which means she's pulled it backward (and tied it up with businesslike lashwork) with Space powers instead of with her hands. There's no one else in here, and the security cameras can't pick up that level of fine detail.

"Don't science students have their own library?" you ask. Wait shit, it sounds like you're trying to get rid of her. Which you're not, exactly, although if you wanted company you'd be doing research in your apartment. Still, when it comes to people it's safe to be rude to, even after all these years Jade Harley doesn't make your list.

If she takes offense, she doesn't say so. "They do, but a few of my theoretical readings have mentioned Foucault, and I think I've gone as long as I can pretending I know who that is."

"Yeah, you'll get random Foucault encounters in unexpected disciplines. If it's not him it's Derrida popping out of the tall grass of the lit review. Philosophers were never meant to escape."

"You would know." She glances at the shelves nearby. This section is materials so old they're still in Dewey instead of Library of Congress - another reason you preferred the spot. No one needs this stuff. "How many libraries do all your programs fit into?"

"A couple, but this is the best one." You've got a pretty good setup here, if you say so yourself. Books stacked up on the makeshift shelving unit, your own modem wired into the wall to make up for the library's spotty wifi, and a mini microwave tucked under your feet. Home away from home. "None of the others let you rent carrels."

"Is that what they're called? They look more like spooky library jail cells."

"Some undergrads passed through a few hours ago while I was typing and I heard one whisper, ‘I think there's a graduate student in there.’ They screamed and ran when I sneezed."

She giggles. "They thought you were a ghoooost."

"If anywhere on campus were haunted, this would be it." The third floor stacks are perpetually poorly lit. Thanks to later additions to a library building only Escher could love, the arched windows on the far wall open to nothing but brick. In Roxy's words, "it’s where you go to get some serious ass studying done or to share a hip flask with a Civil War ghost.”

"Actually, I asked Aradia, and she said it's clean. The chancellor's house, on the other hand, definitely registers as harboring some kind of otherworldly presence. We haven't determined whether it's the chancellor yet."

"Take a look at some of the desks and tell me this place isn't possessed by demonic energies." Graffiti springs up faster than the staff can afford to replace furniture, and when the wooden desks are too choked with pen doodles and carved Greek letters, people move to the walls. If they're not sharing their phone numbers, they're swapping insults with rival frats. You take anthropological interest in this detritus, although one time you'd tried to decipher a Sharpie scribble, made out "We fucked here ;)", and speedily left the seat.

"Rose says the building appeals to your Gothic sensibilities."

"If she compares me to Lord Byron, tell her those are fighting words."

Jade peers in, and you make a halfhearted effort to push the clutter of Monster cans and energy bar wrappers out of her line of sight. "How long have you been in there?"

You stretch your legs as far as they can go, which isn’t far. "I can still feel my feet, and if I have circulation that means it's been under ten hours."

She purses her lips. "Dirk..."

You gesture toward your open PDF files. Several are still waiting for you to review their footnotes. "This dissertation isn't going to write itself."

"It won't write itself if you're dead either."

"Overwork is neither Heroic nor Just."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm confident on a philosophical basis."

She shakes her head. "I know I'm up a little late too. I had a night class on campus, and then I had a bunch of grading to do… You know how I lose track of time when I'm working sometimes." When you'd all lived together, both of you would get lost in projects and miss meals, only noticing the time when someone showed up to drag you out of your room. Jade had started setting timers for herself. She recommended the habit, but you hated having a buzzer interrupt your thoughts. Things take the time they take.

"I've heard rumors about your grading." You may not have a vibrant social network, but you keep your ear to the ground on social media. There's a waiting list for section 4 of Physics 1000. If you weren't long past gen ed credit requirements, you'd take it yourself. "Everyone thinks you'll be a soft touch."

You couldn’t teach. It still takes effort for you to spit out “Good job” to a friend. Your brain, conditioned by years of self-criticism, jumps over congratulations to what’s next and what they could do better. If a three-year-old presented you with their fingerpainting, your first reaction would probably be to tell them to wash their hands. No one deserves to be subjected to that. Isn’t Dave living proof?

“They have to learn,” Jade says. She doesn’t love it when people can’t keep up either, but she, unlike you, has historically been able to slow down and let them catch up without beating the lesson into them. "I let anyone who wants come into office hours. We'll walk through the concepts together and then they can resubmit. It's not my fault if they don't want to try. But anyway, I don't make a habit of all-nighters.” There she goes, picking the thread of the conversation back up again. She’s always been good at that, no matter how much people try to dodge. “They're not good for you. So how about once I finish looking up whoever this very important French guy is, I take you home?"

"Isn't that out of your way?"

She snaps her fingers. "The teleportation express runs 24/7 and omnidirectionally."

"Shit, I should have asked you for a ride here. On the shuttle I got stuck between some guy dumping his date over the phone and an octogenarian professor who might've died while we were in traffic."

"Ask me any time. I'm glad I ran into you tonight though, and not just to rescue you from dying in the depths of Web of Science. Jane wanted me to pass on that your resolution for the graduate assembly got voted down."

"Another one for the garbage, huh?" You click out of the open PDFs and drag them into your 'To process' folder. As much as you’ll never admit it, your blood pressure drops along with the number of tabs open. "I've given them the opportunity to be relevant on this campus, but if they want to keep kissing the administration's ass, that's their business."

"It's hard to challenge the people giving you funding. I'm writing grant applications for the lab this semester, believe me, I know."

Money. That’s an aspect of civilization you hadn’t missed growing up in its waterlogged ruins. For an institution allegedly devoted to higher knowledge, this place is obsessed with it.

"Speaking of which,” Jade continues, “Jane also said if you try anything else the board might pass a new resolution to stop letting you submit resolutions."

You snap your laptop shut. "This is homophobia."

She snorts. "I won't be long, I just need to track down a selected works book. Then I'll come back and we can get out of here."

" I can't be held responsible for any losses to scholarship." You stand up and stretch. Something in your back pops, and your head swims. Ok, maybe you've been sitting here too long.

"I'll take the blame from the academy. Just get tidied up while you're waiting." She looks critically at your collection of Monster cans. "You can recycle those, you know."

By the time Jade gets back with a thick-spined book on philosophy, you’re out of your carrel and have brushed most of the crumbs off yourself. The recyclables have been scooped up and dumped into your backpack’s outer pocket. It’ll be a sticky mess later. “Are you ready to go?” she asks

“Sure.” It’s not even one, which makes this the earliest you’ve gotten home all week. You’re struck by an impulse to yawn and almost crack your jaw resisting it. For fuck’s sake, it’s only November. You’re not allowed to get tired until March at the earliest.

Everything flashes green, and before you have time to rub your eyes, you’re standing outside your front door. Part of you expects to walk through together, but you don’t all live under the same roof anymore. Growing older changes things, even for gods.

“You’re coming to the group dinner next weekend, right?” she asks.

You dig in your pocket for your key. There must be some sort of interdimensional portal in there, it’s fucking ridiculous. Roxy probably knows about eldritch creatures that eat housekeys, that’s got to be within the Void’s purview. “It’s at Jane’s place this time, right?”

“It was the last time I checked.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Then I’ll see you later. Have a good night!” She waves and vanishes before you have time to reply. So instead you turn around, stick the key in the lock, and step inside.

 (Dirk would be one of those zombified PhD candidates who you can find obsessively scrolling through 50-year-old dissertations on microfilm at 3 am. He IS the library ghost. He doesn't attend any committee meetings because he's overscheduled but he does send proxies with detailed questions/comments/concerns for every agenda item. If they knew what he looked like, the other committee members would probably kill him on sight.)

[imaginemycroftholmes]

Mycroft Submission Form

I saw the new updated form and had to try it out.

Name: Melissa

Nationality: American

Age: 22

Personality Type: INFP/ENFP (I switch back and forth depending on the day/weather)

Level of Education: 4 years of College, still working on my Bachelors for Animal Health Science

Best Subject: Art, History, Psychology/Social Studies, English

Worst Subject: Chemistry (Any science class really) and Math (was my best subject, until they added the alphabet to the numbers)

Favorite Subject: Art, Karate, Textiles and Home Economics

5 Hobbies (if applicable): Drawing, playing video games, cooking (lots of steak and lamb), baking (cookies are a specialty), sewing and watching TV

Favorite Genre of Music/Movies/Books: Movies: Anything but horror/suspense, Music: Mostly Country but pretty eclectic (no jazz/screamo/or other heavy metal), and Books: I dare say that I don’t read. Like at all, but I love the original Grimm Fairytales.

Last song you listened to on repeat: “Unsteady” by X Ambassadors

Last phrase you said to another living person: “I got burned by Holy Water once while at the Vatican.”

How many blankets do you sleep with: Just 1, my “Clown” blanket (but really it’s a crying opera singer holding a rose, that’s been in the family for 30+ years. I do sleep with like 6-7 pillows though)

7 note worthy skills: Loyal, Altruistic, Kind, Compassionate, quiet (yes I consider this a good trait), very open-minded, and strong (physically I mean, mentally is up for debate)

7 noticeable sins: I’ll admit I’m lazy, somewhat immature (I swear a lot and my favorite is the F word), I do procrastinate, I am food aggressive, a wee bit selfish and show no mercy to backstabbers, bullies or people who just annoy me (a kick to the groin, a harsh, tear-inducing insult, a dark secret exposed or get them in trouble with a teacher.)

Allergies/impairments/illnesses: I have what I’d like to call illness-induced asthma, and I am near sighted and have to wear glasses, but no allergies at all.

Level of Intelligence on a scale of 1 to 5: 4 (Just above average, but I’m no Einstein)

Level of Fitness on a scale of 1 to 5: 1-2 (currently dieting and exercising, but I love food too much)

Level of Attractiveness on a scale of 1 to 5: I think 2, but everyone else says 4 (liars).

Feline, canine or both: Canine (loyal) and Feline (keep to myself)

Confidence Level on a scale from 1 to 5: 2-3 (1 on bad days, but hardly ever higher than a 3)

Position in the Family (oldest, youngest, middle): Only child, so oldest (I never had to share my toys!)

Eye Color: Brown (Always wanted blue eyes or green)

Hair Color and Length: Long, brown, wavy hair (I hate it. Get’s frizzy in dry/humid weather and gets burning how in the summer, but I can’t cut cause I don’t look good with short hair)

Height: 5’ 2” (Short. So very short, but have so many tall friends)

Combat level on a scale 1 to 5: 2 (currently in Karate)

Your normal dress: A pair of worn blue jeans, a loose fitting T-shirt, a Zip-up Hoodie, a good pair of socks and an old pair of running shoes (with insoles cause I have no arch)

How well you take rejection on a scale of 1 to 5: 5 (I’ve been rejected numerous times)

Languages known: English, currently learning Esperanto and Spanish

Cleanliness of your bathroom on a scale of 1 to 5: 4, would be a 5 but I have a roommate who’s messy

How big is your circle of friends on a scale of 1 to 5: 2, not fond of big groups.

How would you rate your mental health on a scale of 1 to 5: 3-4 (I can get depressed easily on bad days)

Opinions on the current Holmes family members (Siger Holmes, Violet Holmes, Sherlock Holmes and Eurus Holmes): Sherlock is cool and I like his intelligence, his violin sills, and he’s pretty good looking, despite him being a bit, well rude or too honest. As for Siger and Violet, I haven’t met them or got to know them but I’m sure they’re lovely (if they’re your parents, I’m sorry for not realizing that, I’d just like to say that they are what I would want for grandparents, they are so sweet, I love them.) Eurus, I feel that she had so much potential, but I really don’t know how to feel about her. On one hand I am just as impressed with her intelligence and skills as I am with Sherlock, but I’m also pretty terrified of her.

Please bold the following below that applies toward your submission:

Friendship (You will be smothered with gifts but will ask for nothing in return)

Mentorship (Need time to learn, but can I will get the idea)

Relationship (If you’re up for it, then I’ll give it a try)

Partnership (So like be the John to your Sherlock?)

The Question portion:

Please note that you do not have to submit the pictures within your submission (save the puzzle) but you must answer them honestly and do so without cheating.

1)

The angle of C looks to be 45 degrees, while A and B ~15 and ~30 degrees. There’s no attempt at math on this one, just looking at the pictures, I can assume the angles A and B add up to C.

2) Solve the puzzle:

First off I love Sudoku, I play it whenever I get the chance. Couldn’t figure out how to write on the pic so: (This one was a good one, had to really sit and work on it for a like an hour)

            812       753       649

            943       682       175

            675       491       283

            154       237       896

            369       845       721

            287       169       534

            521       974       368

            438       526       917

            796       318       452

3)

Don’t know, and Cheryl is being really “extra” as the kids say now, by not saying what her birthday is, I would have not given her a gift.

4)

Shoot Mr. White. I don’t know but he hits his shots all the time I’d at least try and hit him.

5)

Change the first plus sign into a 4 (545 + 5 + 5 = 555) 

6)

He can’t reach the button for the 10th floor in the elevator so he has wait till there are more people to press the button for him.

7)

Seen this one too. You pick two switches to turn on, one stays off, after waiting a bit, pick one of the switches that is on and then go into the room. If the light is on then it’s the switch still on, if off, touch the bulb, cold=the switch that was always off, warm=the one that was on then turned off.

8)

Don’t care. These gods sound like dicks.

9)

Why can’t he just go to Mary’s house and give her the ring? John is lazy and illogical, that is my deduction. I don’t know.

10)

Flip it upside down and it’s 87. Seen this one before too.

11)

I don’t know! This is the kind of riddle that makes me want to hit the creator in the face. Hints would be nice too.

12)

Alex is screwed. He jumps, he dead. He somehow survives, he’s burned or he starves, he dead.

13)

A. Anne could be married or not. If she is married and looking at George then yes, a married person is looking at an unmarried person, but if she’s not married the its still yes, cause Jack is married.

14)

Nope. Math was not my best subject.

15)

1? No clue.

16)

This type of math I can do, n=10. (10^2 - 10 - 90 = 0)

17)

Vince did it but I’d say “you’re all paying for the new window, I don’t care who broke it.”

18) Where does the English horn (Cor Anglais) come from? I’m assuming not England. Cor Anglais is French, but I doubt it’s from France. I don’t know.

19) What is brass composed of? Copper and Zinc

20) Who was the FIRST great artist that contributed to the Italian Renaissance? Masaccio. Thanks Art History!

21)

No.

22)

Don’t know but I known that I wouldn’t be at that party.

23)

How about nope

24) Is the dress blue and black or white and gold?

Blue and Black and I never want to here about this dress again. I hate dresses and I hated this meme when it came out on the news.

25)

I had to read this damn thing like 6 times, but I figured it out! There is no letter “e” in the entire thing. Kind of cool given that “e” is the most common letter used in the English language.

(I liked this submission form. It’s defiantly more challenging and has to do with a lot more problem solving than the last one. I like puzzles and some of these really made me think.)

Mycroft’s answer:

Melissa, I must say that I have heard many odd phrases in my lifetime both directly and in passing but never something akin to ‘I got burned with Holy Water once while at the Vatican' even with faulty translations at best. I would assume their would be a good story in correlation with that statement? I find it refreshing that you can take rejection so well despite stating that this is a regular occurrence for you. It takes a lot of time and practice for something like that not to effect you anymore and in the few times that I have been on the brunt end it does still carry a sting for me. But in private mind you as I cannot have my competitors or coworkers see me in a state of disarray. While I cannot say with any true glee that I have always been for the sciences ( my heart has always been on external things that tend to change more rapidly and could be controlled at a faster rate) than what concerns the inner workings of the human body much less than that of an animal however, I do have some know how about avian species and reptiles as Sherlock was wont to play with them. I am quite pleased that you attempted the puzzle and even more so that it is correct. My only issue is that if I took you up on a partnership is that you cannot be vindictive toward clients in a direct way. As a partnership with me would include dealing with some rather self-centered diplomats or government officials I'm afraid that in any instance of 'wrong doing' we would simply grin and bear it until the proper time comes to exploit it for personal gain. You can't exactly run the world if you burn too many bridges and make far too many enemies and you can see that with Mr. Moriarty's circles as well.  You may not be too fond of the partnership considering on how  big these meetings tend to run but rest assured we do need more  Esperanto speakers. Just remember that in public everything must be clean and pristine which includes talk, work and the like but in private I will find no complaints from me. 

Friendship: 8.6/10

Mentorship: 8.1/10

Relationship: 6.79/10

Partnership: 7.56/10

[sunshinekarliekloss]

Exclusive: Karlie Kloss on Her Diet, Brows, and Staying Stress-Free

The first time I ever met Karlie Kloss was last year at an event—she was making her way down the red carpet, graciously stopping, smiling, and shaking hands with each journalist eagerly lined up to nab a sound bite from the two minutes we had with the statuesque model. I ask her a question I’ve asked several other celebrities: “How do you balance it all?”

I often expect the same answer: They find time for exercise, sleep, healthy food, and socialising to maintain a sort of internal homeostasis. But Karlie’s answer instantly threw me for a loop. “After dinner tonight, I will be at my kitchen table writing a paper. I have a huge paper due tomorrow, so that’ll be fun. It’s for a writing class. But like every woman, I multitask and make it work.” I knew Kloss was attending NYU, but it didn’t even cross my mind that after posing for photographers in a couture gown while representing a billion-dollar cosmetic company she’d have to go home and… type up a term paper. She may have likened herself to “every woman,” but Kloss’s schedule is certainly in the minority.

Today, I got to speak with the supermodel once again, this time because she’s the new face of Carolina Herrera’s latest fragrance, Good Girl. It seems to be a fitting campaign for Kloss, given her inherently good nature: Her gluten-free vegan cookie line, Klossies, donates proceeds to FEED Projects, a company that helps bring meals to children in need, and her summer camp, Kode with Klossy, is a free two-week program that teaches girls aged 13 to 18 how to build apps and code. But this is all my own perception, of course, so I ask Kloss what she thinks constitutes being a good girl. “It’s someone who has a duality to her—she is not one-dimensional. For me, I always strive to be professional, to work hard, and to learn something new every day. But at the same time, I also like to have fun, to live my life and have a sense of humor about everything. Being a good girl doesn’t mean you have to be boring. It’s been really special to work with Mrs. Herrera and her team on a project that is now six years in the making. I resonated with the character of the Good Girl and her dynamic approach to all aspects of life: her career, hobbies, personal life, and everything she gracefully balances. Mrs. Herrera and her daughters are brilliant, beautiful, and empowered women who embody the spirit of Good Girl—I’m inspired by their powerful femininity and honored to help bring the Good Girl to life. The fragrance is exactly what it symbolises: sweet white floral notes with an undertone of spice and mystery—a good girl gone bad.” With each passing minute of our conversation, Kloss speaks eloquently and passionately about her career, her life, and her health, leaning in with her forearms on her thighs, hands clasped together, speaking in a quiet, whisper-like tone, like we’re sharing a secret with one another (despite the fact that there are publicists, photographers, and assistants within ear shot of us). She’s so mature, in fact, that I forget she’s just 24 years old—two years my junior. What I discover in our time together is her thirst for learning, her desire to help people, and her simple approach to leading a happy, balanced life.

Karlie Kloss: “This job is one that requires a lot of hard work, a lot of travel, a lot of time by yourself on an airplane [or] in a hotel. You have to be really strong, you have to be really independent, and you have to have endurance. You know, I’ve been doing this for 10 years, which is pretty crazy to think because I’m just now 24, but at the same time, I feel like I’ve learned so much and become so much stronger because of the challenges that I’ve faced building a career at an early age and learning an industry from the ground up. “My beauty look is always evolving. What’s great about beauty is that you can take risks and be very experimental because your hair grows back and you can always change up your look at the end of the day. “[If I could be anything other than a model, I'd be] Karlie Kloss, MD, like my dad—he’s a doctor. I wish I were an astronaut. There are so many things I would add [after my name]. So far, I have student and aspiring computer engineer. Learning to code is something I’m very, very adamant about, and I love to encourage other girls to get into computer science. I think it’s such an empowering skill set—you really can do so much with this knowledge of understanding how to build something. It can be a really creative skill set as well, so that’s one thing I’m really excited about—working with girls who have been a part of my program and many more girls who we hope to include going forward. You know, you can work in fashion or have a passion for fashion or art and also be even more set up for success when pairing that creativity with the kind of technical problem solving that coding is. “I definitely would like to think of myself as an entrepreneur. I think it’s a mindset, you know? It’s a mindset of thinking outside the box. I very much love the idea of being a philanthropist, but more than anything else, I just like to help people. I feel really, really lucky in my life, so I like to share opportunities with others because I’m fortunate to be in the position to do that. “My favourite credential is being a student. I love to learn. I think that my whole life, even long after I hopefully someday graduate from NYU—because I’m just a part-time student, I’m slowly working my way—but I think a student of life is something that I’m very proud to be, and I hope that I always have that kind of curiosity.”

“What I’ve definitely learned as a girl, and then as a woman, is that there’s constantly a relationship with your own body. It’s a relationship with learning what works for you, and for me. I’ve been a model for almost 10 years, and so in that time, my body grows and changes and I have to learn how to take care of myself. “When I first started modeling, I ate Snickers bars for breakfast, lunch, and dinner —I didn’t know about nutrition, or really, I always just had a super-fast metabolism. But also, because my body was maturing and growing up, I had to learn how to eat a more balanced diet. And I really learned and got excited about baking and cooking with healthy ingredients, fresh ingredients, a more balanced diet of vegetables and protein, and learning what it means to actually eat clean. In doing so, I not only feel better in my body and more confident in my body, but I also have so much more energy. That has been a whole other education. “I’m big on drinking lots of water. I don’t drink coffee after three o’clock because I really try and sleep. Sleep is another thing—I feel like my mom harping on a balanced diet and sleep and water—it’s so true! The answers are actually so easy, but it’s more just the self-discipline of sticking to them. I really like to eat a lot of fish. I love to eat a lot of vegetables, and I love a good protein shake after a workout. I don’t eat meat, so protein and just getting the right nutrients is key. That and trying to eliminate as much stress from my life as possible.”

“I always love to indulge in a really great facial, probably two days before an event—I especially want to make sure I have time to heal. I really love to do even just an at-home mask. If I’m going to a red carpet and I don’t have time to get a facial, I love to exfoliate and do a mask to really hydrate my skin. I’m a big fan of the under-eye patches, too. “I think all of us in our day-to-day lives, you know, we are all constantly on—we are all constantly connected through email, through social media, through the news. I think my schedule happens to be especially demanding with travel and all the things I have going on, but I think we all face this. I think taking time to detach… For me that’s key, you know? Really making time to take care of myself, to exercise, is ironically relaxing to me because it actually allows me to kind of just have a natural release of endorphins and release of stress. I really like to meditate. I’m not really good about routine because my days are always so different, so I have this app called Headspace, and I love to just plug my headphones in. And in 10 minutes, if I’m in the car or if I’m going to class or work or wherever I’m going, I just need 10 minutes in the morning to kind of totally chill out and get centered and get focused for the day. “I have an amazing makeup artist—his name is Hung Vanngo, and he is the master of all brows. He helped me create this shape today, but I learned early on not to over-pluck them—I think that’s one thing a lot of people really make a mistake with. “I love this trend, or at least over the last few years, it really came into a trend, this healthy brow, and so I definitely appreciate every hair and try not to over-pluck them. But I love a good, really thin brow pencil, or a really, really, really tiny brush, like a liquid pen but very natural and matching it to your skin color. So if you have a great arch where you have patches, where you want it to be more full, or if your brow is too short and you want to kind of extend it, you can use really anything. If you use a pencil, you want it to be really sharp because, essentially, you want to just draw in the hairs and also use something with a brush on the other end, which I learned the name of is actually a spoolie. What a great word. But I think it’s such an important feature—even if you’re not wearing a ton of foundation or concealer or a smoky eye or a red lip, a strong brow goes a long way.” (x)

[rohitkkumar]

New barriers put up at George Floyd Square in Minneapolis after old ones removed

My wife and I spent the first couple years of our marriage living under my parents roof. As anyone in that predicament would tell you the situation was less than ideal. The only saving grace was that my parents weren't especially nosy, and the house itself was large enough to offer us at least a sliver of privacy. It never caused any major problems between us, but our intimacy definitely took a backseat because of it. I really began focusing on progressing my career and getting us out of there. As luck would have it, I finally landed a big promotion I was aiming for and we moved into a relatively high end apartment downtown. It was closer to my finance office and my wife was also closer to the daycare she worked at.

I met Ashley during our last year at University. My roommate at the time introduced us and it wasn't long before we began dating. I still remember the first time she walked into the room. To say that my wife is gorgeous is somewhat of an understatement. Ashley is built like a sex pot. She has long dark hair with blueish gray eyes that compliment her porcelain pale skin color. Her face has been described as classically beautiful, featuring a distinctly feminine bone structure and pouty lips. She stands roughly 5'-5" tall and has it where it counts. She's blessed with large natural D cup breasts and a plump ass that is incredibly tight despite it's larger than average size. When you combine all of that with a very slender frame and a slim stomach it's almost as if her womanly assets defy the laws of physics. During that last year away at school I had sex with her every chance I could, sometimes two or even three times a day. You couldn't separate the two of us, and I think that's part of the reason she agreed to move home with me after we graduated. I proposed to her only a few short weeks after graduation, and we were married soon thereafter.

My name is John, as I already mentioned I work in finance - basically brokering trades or helping upper middle class people with investments, the usual kind of dollars and cents business. I guess I'm what you would consider an attractive guy, about 5'-10" with masculine features and up until recently, I was very much in shape. The stress of the move and the more intensive hours that came along with my promotion had yielded an unfortunate byproduct of 20 unsightly pounds, but I planned to work those away once things settled back down.

Even though I was a decent enough looking guy - my friends, and plenty of co-workers, were never shy of informing me that I married up. "Wow. That's your wife?" was a comment I had heard countless times. I really couldn't complain, even though I felt a pang of annoyance by these sorts of remarks I also beamed with pride. Most men, and I mean ninety-nine percent of men, would love to say Ash was their wife. Without question I lucked out, and sometimes I still pinch myself when I roll over in bed and see her laying next to me.

One of the reasons the move was such a positive was the obvious potential to revitalize our sex life. Now don't get me wrong, we did find our moments to make love living under my parents roof, but it went without saying that us having a place of our own would lead to more freedom in the bedroom. I hadn't thrown Ashley down on the couch in the middle of the day since college, and I looked forward to spicing things up again.

I was day dreaming about the possibilities when the phone rang in my small office, which I had newly acquired via promotion.

"John Morefield." I answered in my usual professional tone.

"It's me baby." my wife replied.

I smiled at the sound of her voice "Sorry babe, no caller ID yet - what's up?" I made a mental note to get the IT department in to finalize my office install.

"I was just wondering when you'd be home. I'm making a nice meal to celebrate us finally having our own place." My wife was a bit traditional when it came to gender roles. Don't get me wrong, she was progressive minded when it came to social issues, science, race, and things related to world outlook - but she loved to cook and clean. She was talented in the kitchen and would often be the one who cooked dinner when we were back at my parents place. If I'm being honest, I think even my mom was a bit jealous of her skills as a chef.

"Shouldn't be too late tonight, maybe around six-thirty. Let me run though I need to send something out to a client, love you."

"Love you too." The call snapped me out of my day dream and I resumed typing an overdue memo. A few minutes had passed when my cellphone buzzed from within my suit jacked. I reached in and pulled it out. As I glanced down at the screen my heart nearly skipped a beat. I was greeted by a naughty picture of big breasts that were ill-contained within a lace black and red bra. It didn't take long for me to realize that Ashley had just 'sexted' me a picture of her tits, something she had never done before. Accompanying the image was a subtext that read "Don't be late." I immediately felt my dick stiffen from within my slacks. I quickly adjusted myself before replying "On the way!"

I slammed my laptop closed and headed out the door.

Even though the drive home was technically only five minutes long it felt like an eternity. When I finally unlocked the door to the apartment and walked inside I was greeted by an erotic sight. It was dark despite it only being late afternoon, Ashley had closed the curtains. Candles littered our spacious living room, my eyes scanned the space before falling upon my wife. She was laying face down on our new plush couch, ass up in the air. My jaw nearly dropped at the sight of it. Her ass was prominently on display, as was her pussy, clit concealed by her luscious mound. The combination of her supple ass and sex was framed in almost artistically by a lace red and black undergarment. My dick immediately strained. I tossed off my jacket and instinctively began unbuckling my pants. Ashley looked back at me smiling devilishly, but she didn't say a word. This was hot, really hot - we never did anything like this.

I ripped my shirt off and basically jumped out of my pants, completely undressing in record time. I could hear her giggling from the couch. I approached my wife completely naked, my rock hard dick jutting outwards as I reached out and finally grabbed her ass.

"Fuck yes... look at this sexy thing." I spoke in a gritty tone, fueled by lust.

She wiggled it in response, lace skirt swaying. "You like? I bought the outfit today... and a few others."

"It's the sexiest thing I've ever seen." I pulled the skirt up, exposing the entirety of her lily white bottom. I slapped my palm down on her right cheek hard as I positioned the head of my dick at the folds of her sex. She moaned in response, arching her head back in anticipation.

"Fuck me baby... I've been waiting all day." her request was a whine, a whisper.

I gently thrust forward, entering my wife. The warmth and tightness of her sex sent waves of pleasure coursing through my body. It didn't take long before I was pumping away with full speed. Ashley was moaning softly in response, gripping the couch cushion as I pounded her. I looked down as her large ass bounced back and forth, consuming the view of my dick upon collision.

I wasn't exactly small in the genitalia department, my dick was almost six and a half inches in length, and it had decent girth. My wife, however, as I described - was stacked in every category. She was freakishly gifted when it came to sexual assets and I often cursed myself for not having the same genetic luck. I had seen enough porn in my day to know cocks came in much larger sizes than mine.

I shook the thought from my mind and gripped onto her hips, I felt an orgasm brewing from within me as I thrust into my wife. I hoped I could hold out until Ashley came. I often could, but today's unexpected eroticism had me more excited than normal. She looked back at me with her gorgeous eyes, probably sensing I was about to unload. "It's okay baby, cum. I want you to cum for me." Her tone was sultry and engaging, she bit her plump lip naughtily as the words escaped her mouth..

I relented, unleashing, legs shaking as the pleasure filled waves of my orgasm spread out from my groin. I came, hard, unloading my cum into my wife's willing sex.

She moaned softly as she felt me blow, continuing to bounce back onto my dick, milking me as my body locked up. I leaned down over her body, kissing her back and feminine shoulders while my orgasm subsided. We stayed in that position for a moment, until she spoke "Mmm... That was nice."

I stood, giving her some room to breathe, agreeing "Hell yeah it was... very nice."

She stood, turning to me and leaning in for a kiss. I noticed her tits within the bra and recalled the picture she sent me. After we locked lips I mentioned the text "I'm not sure what came over you, but that text was awesome - It got me rock solid. I almost had to cover myself as I ran out of the office."

She laughed "I don't know... I've been horny all day." She blushed. "I think finally having our own place has put me into a sexy mood. We should have moved years ago!"

I chuckled "Yeah, I'll say."

Ashley headed towards our bedroom, she spoke "I'm gonna hop in the shower, do me a favor and get the roast out of the oven please babe."

I watched her as she disappeared through the doorway, that incredible ass bouncing as she strode - inexplicably getting me excited despite my orgasm mere moments ago. God, I was a lucky man.

Dinner that night was lovely, we ate in the candlelight - lighting only a single lamp in the living room so we could see where we were going. We enjoyed a succulent pot roast with accompanying gratin potatoes and sliced buttery carrots. Ashley had picked up a few bottles of a delicious Cabernet, that we drank readily. I noticed an extra bottle on the kitchen counter, dressed with a bow - as if it was a gift.

"Who's that bottle for?" I inquired.

"I thought we'd give it to Richard, for helping us. Maybe you could invite him over for dinner next week as a proper thank you?"

I nodded in agreement "Great idea."

Richard was our new neighbor across the hall. We were having a hard time during our Saturday move and I assume he heard our struggle from inside his apartment. He spent almost five hours helping us carry the larger pieces up from the moving truck. If it wasn't for his help we probably would have been forced to delay until the next Saturday, costing us an entire week and more money. We thanked him profusely at the end of the move but the bottle of wine and invitation to dinner was definitely the right way to handle it.

He was a tall, older man, black - probably about forty-five years old, which would have put him roughly twenty years older than Ash or myself. He seemed rather soft spoken, but had a deep voice and an impressive physical presence. He appeared to be an attractive man, although sometimes it was hard for me to gauge the attractiveness of men, clean cut and seemingly well put together. He also appeared to be in great shape for a man of his age. He lugged large dressers and various pieces of furniture down the hall without really breaking a sweat. We hadn't learned much about him as of yet but we did find out he was widowed, his wife had passed away nearly 10 years earlier from a rare blood disorder. There was a certain melancholy about him, but Ash and I were both good judges of character, and we had a good feeling about the man. Surely dinner would be an ideal way to get to know him better.

Once we had finished the meal and cleaned up I grabbed the bottle and headed out our front door, it was only a few paces across the hallway before I was knocking at his.

The door opened "John, what a pleasant surprise." Richard spoke with kindness in his voice, smiling.

"Hey there, we wanted you to have this." I handed him the bottle. "Nothing fancy, but we wanted to thank you for helping us the other day. Ashley and I also wanted to invite you over for dinner next weekend - if you're available."

Richard looked genuinely grateful "Oh wow, you guys didn't have to get me anything. I was happy to help." He glanced at the label. He was dressed in slacks and what looked to be an expensive sweater. There was some music emanating from his apartment, it sounded classical, moody. I realized I might have came at a bad time.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything." I offered as a potential apology.

"Oh not at all, I work from home, I was just taking care of some things. I would love to come over for dinner, I'm afraid I don't get out much these days."

"Excellent. I'll let Ashley know."

We exchanged phone numbers and some more small talk, he thanked me again - and we and said our goodbyes.

The week passed relatively quickly, and on Saturday night we found ourselves sitting down at our dinner table with Richard. The wine flowed and the glazed pork loin that Ashley cooked was devoured by the three of us. We discussed a number of topics ranging from careers and politics to entertainment and hobbies. Richard seemed to really love kids, despite not having any of his own - and admired Ashley for working with them on a day to day basis. Richard himself was a writer of sorts. He provided articles and short stories to a number of online outlets who contracted him on a case by case basis - it seemed to make him a good living. When he heard that I was a finance manager he actually seemed interested in attaining my help in setting up some investments. He had never dabbled in the market, and it was apparently something that always interested him.

"I really do love what you've done with the place." Richard also spent a portion of the evening complimenting Ashley's taste and her abilities as a homemaker. "I was over here a couple times when the last tenant occupied it. Let's just say its a night and day difference."

My wife smiled at him as she took the last sip of wine from her glass "Thanks a lot Richard. I spent a good amount of time planning it out. I'm glad someone's taken notice."

"A designers eye, for certain." He smiled back, and wiped his mouth clean with his napkin.

One thing that I couldn't help but notice was a sort of relaxed energy in the room. Even during the move, upon initially meeting Richard, we seemed to get along with him as if we'd known him for years. Ashley took to him immediately, joking with him, and much to my surprise - flirting with him. Smiling at him with excited eyes or jokingly complimenting his strength while he positioned furniture for us. Richard didn't really instigate any of it, he was respectful, but obviously felt the need to return her smiles and go with the flow. I mean, just like any man - I caught him stealing plenty of glances at Ash. It didn't bother me though. I was very much used to seeing men ogle over or flirt with my wife, I would have gone insane if I let those sort of provocations bother me. But it was sort of out of the ordinary for Ash to be the initiator when it came to flirting, and I planned to give her a hard time about it later.

"So, Richard. Are you, um, dating - or seeing anyone?" Ashley asked with raised eyebrow. The question was a tad forward, although harmless, and I jokingly scolded her for asking it.

"...Now now Ash, that's personal..."

Richard chuckled "No, no. It's quite alright." He took another sip of the Cabernet, and continued "Not really, to be honest. It took a good five years after my wife passed to even think about another woman's company. A few of my friends eventually got me to go on a date, and then another. Over the last few years I've seen a handful of women, but only for brief stints." He paused, seemingly thinking for a moment "... I haven't made much of an effort really."

Ashley was now standing and picking up the plates from our table. "Well, that's too bad. You seem like quite the catch." I stood to help her with the silverware.

Richard smiled again, slightly chuckling "Well... My goodness. That certainly means a lot coming from a woman as beautiful and talented as yourself." He looked in my direction for a moment. "John, I don't think I'd be the first to tell you that you're a lucky man." He raised his wine class in acknowledgement. I looked at Ashley for a moment and caught her blushing.

"You certainly wouldn't be. I'm not the smartest man in the world, but I'm certainly smart enough to know that I'm the luckiest." I leaned in and gave my wife a heavy kiss on her cheek.

Ashley replied with a sarcastic, but loving "Aww. Isn't that sweet." she raised her hand to her face, shielding her mouth from me. She spoke in a fake whisper so that I could hear "Psst.. He's lying."

Richard began laughing as he stood. He picked up his plate and moved towards the kitchen. "You guys remind me of my wife and I, when we were newlyweds - it's really great to see."

"Richard don't you dare help clean up." Ashley playfully swatted at his arm. "Let me have that. Go have a seat in the living room."

He gently dropped the plate and put his arms up in amusement "Yes ma'am. Don't know what I was thinking." I couldn't help but notice that my wife's ass grazed against his trousers as they moved past each other. Richard gently grabbed her waist as he slid past her. Ashley's eyes darted open for a moment, but she continued placing the dishes in the sink as if nothing happened.

The meal was over and I was in the mood for an after dinner drink, "Come Richard. Would you be opposed to a nice scotch? I have a 30 year and I've been looking for an excuse to crack it open. Received it as a gift." I waved his attention towards the living room.

"Oh wow, a thirty year? I could never say no." He followed me towards the sofa, where we both sat.

Ash called from the kitchen "Guys, do you want it on the rocks, or straight?"

Richard looked at me and then replied, loudly so she could hear him "Straight please." I nodded in agreement, couldn't in good faith water down a thirty year malt.

A few minutes later Ashley arrived with two glasses of scotch. I quickly noticed that the top of her dress was soaking wet, causing the thin green fabric to appear sheer. Her black bra was as clear as day underneath it, the skin on her exposed cleavage was also drenched. She was moving in a hurry.

"Here take these, the sink just attacked me." She quickly handed one drink to me, and one to Richard. Richard couldn't help but stare as she leaned forward, her tits nearly spilling out of the top of her dress. It seemed to catch him off guard, because as she turned to go he continued to gaze at her ass, which was admittedly popping in the tight dress she was wearing.

I didn't want to make it awkward for him, so I simply called out "Don't drown in there babe." That seemed to get him to break away from his tunnel vision, turning his attention back towards me.

Richard hung around for another half hour or so, enjoying the scotch and discussing sports and his love of basketball. He was incredibly thankful in his departure, shaking my hand firmly and giving Ashley a kiss on the cheek. "Incredible meal, and an incredible couple." were his departing words.

Later that week Ashley and I were cleaning up around the apartment, playfully annoying each other during our respective tasks.

I decided now would be a good time to press her on her flirtation with Richard, smacking her ass as she bent down to dust an end table "You know... I think you might have a crush on our new neighbor." I smirked smugly as I spoke.

Ashley immediately stood up "Excuse me? Who?" I made a face at her implying a sort of 'Who else?', and she quickly realized who I meant "... Richard?! What on earth would make you say that?"

I continued smirking "I dunno, maybe it was you giggling at his every word, or you being especially touchy, or you going on about his strong arms..." I rattled off the evidence with auctioneer like speed.

[goliath-de-senfina-sango]

Jewelry and Moral Dilemmas

School was its usual boring self, a tad tenser with Danny feeling less than happy talking with Sam.  He was sure he’d be over it soon enough. Right as it was about to end, Danny found his traitorous mind swinging away from the chemicals needed to reflect a specific part of the ultraviolet spectrum of light and toward his social failings.  School did things like that to the brain after all.

“Thanks to you,” Tucker poked at him with a grin, “I now know the quickest way to a girl’s heart: clean boxers.”

Danny sighed and rubbed his neck, kicking the tile floor.  “Man, I blew it yesterday. Paulina probably won’t even look at me now.”

Moping at the floor like he was, Danny didn’t notice the footsteps of a certain latina cheerleader, who offered a small wave.  “Yoohoo, Danny?”

Danny’s head rose so fast a joint almost popped.  Paulina was back? After everything? Danny nudged Tucker in the ribs and Tuck gave a thumbs up before jogging off.  “Uh hi, Paulina.”

“Hi you,” Paulina chuckled, walking closer.  “I just wanted…”

A crushing blow at his side shoved the too small Danny into his locker, closing the door on him.  “Meet me?” A gratingly familiar voice finished her sentence. “Who doesn’t?”

Danny felt anger buzz under his skin and vibrate him out of the visible rainbow.   Does Dash think he can just fucking shove anyone around? Well, Danny thought, let’s see how he feels about having his clothes fused together.   Sliding through the molecules of his locker, Danny grabbed onto Dash’s back, reaching through the jacket.  But he reached too deep too quickly and suddenly he was being pulled in, filling a space larger than he was normally crammed into, his being humming through muscles not his own.  “I’m… in Dash?”

“Excuse me?”  Right, Paulina.  Think about the new power later, think about the weirdness of wearing Dash like a heavy coat later.  Currently, it was revenge time.

“I’m captain of the resident Geek club and I’ve kept every toenail I’ve ever clipped!”  With all the excitement he could muster Danny leaned in close. “Wanna see?”

“No.”  Sour notes rang in her aura and Danny nearly cackled.  Considering the circumstances, he let the body cackle and got down on one knee.

“Oh well, you should see the guy I just shoved in the locker, Fenton!  He doesn’t rub his mom’s feet like me.” Dash’s hands reached for Paulina’s shoes.  “Which is a shame cause I’ve been tryna teach him how to give foot rubs.”

“Eew, get away loser!”  Paulina took a step back and Danny smirked as he pulled up and away from Dash’s big clumsy form.  Phasing back into his locker, Danny noted that Dash felt a compulsion to rub his mom’s feet and that was a fascinating additional tidbit about the power.  “Hey, Danny? What’s your number?” Danny gave her the numbers and was soon tumbling out of the locker, face meeting linoleum. Danny rolled over and Paulina laughed.  “We have to stop meeting like this.” Her eyes widened, picking up something that must’ve fallen out of Danny’s bag. “Oh my goodness, what is that?” Paulina picked up a necklace, glittering gold surrounding an emerald and held together on a gold chain.  With the way she was looking at it, it could practically be made of real gems and gold.

“That?  Uh. You like it?”

“It’s beautiful!”

Danny got to his feet and rubbed his arm with a smile.  “That’s great cause It’s for you!”

Paulina gave Danny a smile that warmed him up on the inside and her aura was singing with chirping birds.  “Really?”

“Yeah, uh, I got it in case I got the nerve to ask you to the dance and you said yes.”  Danny grabbed his pants before they could fall. “I wanted to get you something in case of that and uh that’s what I was planning on though, now that I look again it doesn’t really do you justice.”

“Well, you are kinda cute, and you have great taste in underwear.”  Paulina put the necklace on herself and flashed another smile Danny’s way.  “I’d love to go with you.”

As soon as Paulina was out of earshot Danny tugged on his jacket.  “What am I doing? That doesn’t belong to me- it could be my mom’s or my sister’s…”  Paulina waved goodbye and turned the corner, that blossom of warmth in Danny’s chest spreading.  “Which is future Danny’s problem, cause she said yes !  Whoo!”  Tossing his arms in the air, Danny barely felt embarrassed when his jeans fell again.  Picking them up Danny heard the grating whine of displeasure behind him on the wrong level of existence to be paying attention to.

“Pantless again, Mr. Fenton?”  The balding pot-bellied vice principal drawled with his hands behind his back.  “That’s the third time this week I’ve caught you,” Lancer paused, pulled out a book titled How to Sound Hip for the Unhip, “dropping trou.”  Danny’s foot nearly dipped below the tiles as he tried to keep his laughter inside.  “I think it’s time I met your father for a Parent-Teacher Conference.” The paper Lancer handed him made keeping the giggles in a lot easier.

“My Dad?”   Orion, how am I gonna handle this one?

“Until then, here.”  Lancer handed him a belt.   How did that fit in his pocket?  “It’ll keep your pants up and you out of trouble with the man.”

During class, Danny took down notes on how his power expanded itself.  The flesh had felt wrong, alien when he was inside of it. Dash was bigger than him, heavier and Danny was amazed he hadn’t stumbled around when moving the jerk’s body.  The feeling of Dash’s mind beneath his, pushed under the surface of consciousness, was like wisps of air trying to escape like bubbles but not quite knowing it was trapped.

Mr. Falluca tried to get the slip on a seemingly inattentive Danny, but Science was his Thing, and Danny managed an answer and a tangent on every question shot his way.  Falluca was impressed but reminded Danny to at least look at the board occasionally. Danny made no promises to do so.

When Danny got home, the belt Lancer had repeatedly instructed him to put on nearly forgotten at his waist, he found his Dad monitoring the portal with the Fenton Fisher in his hands, though there was an extra blast shield between Dad and the rest of the lab.  Let it never be said that Fenton’s work slow.

Walking through the door of the shield Danny waved.  "Hey Dad, catch anything?“ Danny knew the answer, but it was the best way to Segway to the issue.

"Couldn’t catch a cold, Danny.  I’m so frustrated I wanna take it out on the first person to give me bad news!  Probably one of those GIW agents…”

Trying to ignore the sound of a hornet’s nest coming from his dad on that second level of reality, Danny weighed his options.  Then, he slipped onto that second level, reaching into his Dad and pushing him up to the third layer that Danny saw when he dissociated.  "Mr. Lancer wants to talk to us.“

Dad’s muscle memory took over for him as Danny directed the body to drive to the school immediately.  Danny had more to do than just fake his way through a PT conference.

Lancer’s office was so much smaller from his dad’s point of view.  The chair especially so. Lancer’s droning voice, unfortunately, was always going to be boring.  “Thank you for coming to discuss your son’s schooling, Mr. Fenton.”

“Well yeah of course!”  Danny never realized before that this was his dad’s speaking volume.  “He’s my little man, gotta know what’s up with him.”

“Well, there’s been a couple of incidents with his pants.”   Sweet Tucana, is this how he describes everyone’s problems?

“Ah, his pants!  I told Danny if he didn’t stop studying so he could eat some more his pants’d fall down.  He forgets ya see.”

Lancer hummed, looking to the side in consideration.  “That would explain some things…”

Holy Pavo, did that work?   “Of course you understand!  No wonder you’re Danny’s favorite teacher.”

Lancer arched a brow at that, leaning forward a bit.  “I am?”

“Yeah, ‘strict but fair and informative’ he always calls ya.”  Danny held up a fist with a grin. “We Fentons, as people of science, understand that teachers are underpaid and underappreciated.  Without you who would be there to educate our future society on how it all works?”

A smile slowly spread over Lancer’s face.  “I like your style, Mr. Fenton.” Hook line and sinker.  “In fact, I’d like you to chaperone the dance.”

Internally, Danny recoiled at the idea of his dad chaperoning the dance in any capacity what so ever.  Remembering exactly how his dad responded to anything he wasn’t interested in, Danny gave as firm and exuberant a, “No thanks!”  as he could. “I’ve got to test my inventions, see what needs improving.”

“Are you sure, Mr. Fenton?”

“That’s Dr. Fenton,” Danny corrected, “and yes.  Now, if that’s all you wanted to talk about.” Not giving Lancer so much as a chance to say otherwise, Danny walked his dad out of the office and drove home.  Portal open, fishing line tossed, Danny whispered in his father’s head that he’d been doing this so long he zoned out and flew out of him. Danny rose up to his room and slumped against the wall.

“Ara, that went better than I expected,” Danny muttered.  “I gotta tell Tuck and Sam about this.”

“So wait, you got Dash to say he scrubs  his mom’s feet?” Sam snorted. “To Paulina of all people?”

“Not only that but he also asked himself - out loud which is a dumb way to ask yourself certain questions - why he wanted to scrub his mom’s feet after I left his body.”  Danny chuckled as he took a bite of his burger.

“So lemme get this straight,” Tucker said.

“Nothing I say is straight, Tucker.”

“You can just walk into people and take over their bodies?”

“Well, when you put it that way.”  Danny smacked away Tucker’s thieving hands from his food.

“No no, I mean, if you could walk into a girl for like, 3 minutes…”  Tucker was then assaulted by Sam’s combat boots directly to the toes, and Danny glared at him.  “Christ, it was just a joke!”

“It was a horribly creepy joke, and you should feel bad about it,” Sam said, stealing his fries.  Tucker looked ready to protest but Sam gave him a challenging scowl and he let it drop.

“You can get a date to the dance on your own like I did.”  Danny rolled his eyes.

“Does he have to take off his pants and act like a dweeb or will either work?”   Sam tilted her head. “No, wait he’s always acting like a dweeb.  Looks like the pants must go Tuck.”

Danny pouted, narrowing his eyes at Sam.  “I do not act like a dweeb, Sam. I act like an intelligent romantic.”  The laughter from both of his friends was frankly rude and unnecessary. “What?”

Tucker leaned over and patted Danny’s hand.  “Nothing Danny, you’re very romantic and understand how all that works.  Definitely.”

“I don’t stalk the girl’s locker room looking for dates,” Danny said as flatly as he could manage.  Tucker winced, then jabbed Danny in the shoulder.

“Touche.”

“Honestly, I’m glad I’m not going to this stupid dance,” Sam said, picking at the scraps left of her salad.  “Saves me the embarrassment of wearing this lame dress my parents bought me.”

Tucker, ever insightful, smirked at her.  “No one asked you, did they?”

“Guess I’m not as standardly pretty as Paulina is,” Sam spat out venomously.

“So she’s pretty,” Danny said, pointing his last fry at Sam.  “It’s not a crime. What’s your deal?”

“Looks are deceiving Danny.”

Before Danny could offer a rebuttal to that blanket statement that answered nothing, his body went cold and he heard a familiar melody at the back of his mind.  The three teens stood up as one, and Danny turned to the sound of screaming. “Shit. Guys let’s see what we’ve got.”

Danny ran to a shadowy corner where he was sure the cameras couldn’t see him and slipped into his Phantom form.  He flew around the corner and pulled up short when he saw the dragon from the other day. “Well fuck. Haven’t I seen you before?”  The dragon roared at him, a line of fire spewing out of its mouth and Danny swerved around it, ready for that this time. “Let’s try that again.  Hi, I’m Danny Phantom, and you are?”

Danny saw Tucker and Sam’s wrist ray fire before he saw the tail coming his way, and dropped to the ground, thankful for his friends.  The beams flew right over the ducking dragon’s head and it swiped it’s tail at Danny, missing by a mile. “Testy got it.” Danny charged at the dragon, tackling it by the midsection.  It flew back when he stopped and Danny grinned when twin wrist ray shots flew and one managed to zap the dragon in the face.

It roared at them all, and pounced at Danny, missing once again when Danny phased through it.  “Must have Tee!” A line of fire shot forth again and Danny dove to the ground.

“Oh, tea?  Good idea! Coffee can make you a mite jittery.”  Danny slipped onto that second level and smirked. “Better yet.”  Sinking into the ground, Danny rose up with an uppercut to the dragon’s jaw.  “How bout some punch?” The dragon flew so far that Danny lost track of it for a second as he flew.  

Lowering down to Sam and Tucker’s level, he noted that the aura of crackling flames had vanished and flew off to a corner to turn back, then walked around a different corner.

“Holy shit, Danny are you ok?”  Tucker was immediately checking Danny for burns and bruises and Danny chuckled.

“Yeah, Tuck, I’m fine.  Except that’s the second time I fought that dragon.  We need to investigate. How are you guys?”

“We’re fine,” Sam said.  “Though Tucker needs to work on his aim.”

“That dragon was moving really fast, Sam, and so was Danny.  I didn’t wanna hit him.” Tucker sighed. “But yeah, I’m fine.  Dateless still though I’ve asked pretty much every girl in school except…”  Tucker turned as Valerie Grey walked by. “Hey, Val?”

“No.”

“Ugh.  Alright, well plan fuckin B I guess.”  Tucker glared as Sam opened her mouth. “And I’m keeping my pants on.”

“Sure you are Tuck.”  Sam patted the geek on the arm.  “Meanwhile, during important business, I’m going to look up that dragon best I can.  Send me a picture of it?”

“Sending now,”  Tucker muttered, already walking off to go find a date.

“Well, while you guys do that I’m gonna go see if I can manage to make blurple into a color I can paint with.”  Danny grinned as he ran off.

“That color doesn’t need a name if only you can see it!”

“Yes, it does!”

When Danny got home, he ran first upstairs to find something suitable for the dance, and then to find his mother when he found nothing.  “Hey, Mom? Where’s that suit you got me for the Sadie Hawkins’ dance that Sam made the middle school do? I wanna see if it still fits or if I need a new one.”

[thesnhuup]

Pop Picks – Feb. 12, 2018

February 12, 2018

What I’m listening to:

So, I have a lot of friends of age (I know you’re thinking 40s, but I just turned 60) who are frozen in whatever era of music they enjoyed in college or maybe even in their thirties. There are lots of times when I reach back into the catalog, since music is one of those really powerful and transporting senses that can take you through time (smell is the other one, though often underappreciated for that power). Hell, I just bought a turntable and now spending time in vintage vinyl shops. But I’m trying to take a lesson from Pat, who revels in new music and can as easily talk about North African rap music and the latest National album as Meet the Beatles, her first ever album. So, I’ve been listening to Kendrick Lamar’s Grammy winning Damn. While it may not be the first thing I’ll reach for on a winter night in Maine, by the fire, I was taken with it. It’s layered, political, and weirdly sensitive and misogynist at the same time, and it feels fresh and authentic and smart at the same time, with music that often pulled me from what I was doing. In short, everything music should do. I’m not a bit cooler for listening to Damn, but when I followed it with Steely Dan, I felt like I was listening to Lawrence Welk. A good sign, I think.

  What I’m reading:

I am reading Walter Isaacson’s new biography of Leonardo da Vinci. I’m not usually a reader of biographies, but I’ve always been taken with Leonardo. Isaacson does not disappoint (does he ever?), and his subject is at once more human and accessible and more awe-inspiring in Isaacson’s capable hands. Gay, left-handed, vegetarian, incapable of finishing things, a wonderful conversationalist, kind, and perhaps the most relentlessly curious human being who has ever lived. Like his biographies of Steve Jobs and Albert Einstein, Isaacson’s project here is to show that genius lives at the intersection of science and art, of rationality and creativity. Highly recommend it.

  What I’m watching:

We watched the This Is Us post-Super Bowl episode, the one where Jack finally buys the farm. I really want to hate this show. It is melodramatic and manipulative, with characters that mostly never change or grow, and it hooks me every damn time we watch it. The episode last Sunday was a tear jerker, a double whammy intended to render into a blubbering, tissue-crumbling pathetic mess anyone who has lost a parent or who is a parent. Sterling K. Brown, Ron Cephas Jones, the surprising Mandy Moore, and Milo Ventimiglia are hard not to love and last season’s episode that had only Brown and Cephas going to Memphis was the show at its best (they are by far the two best actors). Last week was the show at its best worst. In other words, I want to hate it, but I love it. If you haven’t seen it, don’t binge watch it. You’ll need therapy and insulin.

  Archive

January 15, 2018

What I’m listening to:

Drive-By Truckers. Chris Stapleton has me on an unusual (for me) country theme and I discovered these guys to my great delight. They’ve been around, with some 11 albums, but the newest one is fascinating. It’s a deep dive into Southern alienation and the white working-class world often associated with our current president. I admire the willingness to lay bare, in kick ass rock songs, the complexities and pain at work among people we too quickly place into overly simple categories. These guys are brave, bold, and thoughtful as hell, while producing songs I didn’t expect to like, but that I keep playing. And they are coming to NH.

What I’m reading:

A textual analog to Drive-By Truckers by Chris Stapleton in many ways is Tony Horowitz’s 1998 Pulitzer Prize winning Confederates in the Attic. Ostensibly about the Civil War and the South’s ongoing attachment to it, it is prescient and speaks eloquently to the times in which we live (where every southern state but Virginia voted for President Trump). Often hilarious, it too surfaces complexities and nuance that escape a more recent, and widely acclaimed, book like Hillbilly Elegy. As a Civil War fan, it was also astonishing in many instances, especially when it blows apart long-held “truths” about the war, such as the degree to which Sherman burned down the south (he did not). Like D-B Truckers, Horowitz loves the South and the people he encounters, even as he grapples with its myths of victimhood and exceptionalism (and racism, which may be no more than the racism in the north, but of a different kind). Everyone should read this book and I’m embarrassed I’m so late to it.

What I’m watching:

David Letterman has a new Netflix show called “My Next Guest Needs No Introduction” and we watched the first episode, in which Letterman interviewed Barack Obama. It was extraordinary (if you don’t have Netflix, get it just to watch this show); not only because we were reminded of Obama’s smarts, grace, and humanity (and humor), but because we saw a side of Letterman we didn’t know existed. His personal reflections on Selma were raw and powerful, almost painful. He will do five more episodes with “extraordinary individuals” and if they are anything like the first, this might be the very best work of his career and one of the best things on television.

December 22, 2017

What I’m reading:

Just finished Sunjeev Sahota’s Year of the Runaways, a painful inside look at the plight of illegal Indian immigrant workers in Britain. It was shortlisted for 2015 Man Booker Prize and its transporting, often to a dark and painful universe, and it is impossible not to think about the American version of this story and the terrible way we treat the undocumented in our own country, especially now.

What I’m watching:

Season II of The Crown is even better than Season I. Elizabeth’s character is becoming more three-dimensional, the modern world is catching up with tradition-bound Britain, and Cold War politics offer more context and tension than we saw in Season I. Claire Foy, in her last season, is just terrific – one arched eye brow can send a message.

What I’m listening to:

A lot of Christmas music, but needing a break from the schmaltz, I’ve discovered Over the Rhine and their Christmas album, Snow Angels. God, these guys are good.

  November 14, 2017

What I’m watching:

Guiltily, I watch the Patriots play every weekend, often building my schedule and plans around seeing the game. Why the guilt? I don’t know how morally defensible is football anymore, as we now know the severe damage it does to the players. We can’t pretend it’s all okay anymore. Is this our version of late decadent Rome, watching mostly young Black men take a terrible toll on each other for our mere entertainment?

What I’m reading:

Recently finished J.G. Ballard’s 2000 novel Super-Cannes, a powerful depiction of a corporate-tech ex-pat community taken over by a kind of psychopathology, in which all social norms and responsibilities are surrendered to residents of the new world community. Kept thinking about Silicon Valley when reading it. Pretty dark, dystopian view of the modern world and centered around a mass killing, troublingly prescient.

What I’m listening to:

Was never really a Lorde fan, only knowing her catchy (and smarter than you might first guess) pop hit “Royals” from her debut album. But her new album, Melodrama, is terrific and it doesn’t feel quite right to call this “pop.” There is something way more substantial going on with Lorde and I can see why many critics put this album at the top of their Best in 2017 list. Count me in as a huge fan.

  November 3, 2017

What I’m reading: Just finished Celeste Ng’s Little Fires Everywhere, her breathtakingly good second novel. How is someone so young so wise? Her writing is near perfection and I read the book in two days, setting my alarm for 4:30AM so I could finish it before work.

What I’m watching: We just binge watched season two of Stranger Things and it was worth it just to watch Millie Bobbie Brown, the transcendent young actor who plays Eleven. The series is a delightful mash up of every great eighties horror genre you can imagine and while pretty dark, an absolute joy to watch.

What I’m listening to: I’m not a lover of country music (to say the least), but I love Chris Stapleton. His “The Last Thing I Needed, First Thing This Morning” is heartbreakingly good and reminds me of the old school country that played in my house as a kid. He has a new album and I can’t wait, but his From A Room: Volume 1 is on repeat for now.

  September 26, 2017

What I’m reading:

Just finished George Saunder’s Lincoln in the Bardo. It took me a while to accept its cadence and sheer weirdness, but loved it in the end. A painful meditation on loss and grief, and a genuinely beautiful exploration of the intersection of life and death, the difficulty of letting go of what was, good and bad, and what never came to be.

What I’m watching:

HBO’s The Deuce. Times Square and the beginning of the porn industry in the 1970s, the setting made me wonder if this was really something I’d want to see. But David Simon is the writer and I’d read a menu if he wrote it. It does not disappoint so far and there is nothing prurient about it.

What I’m listening to:

The National’s new album Sleep Well Beast. I love this band. The opening piano notes of the first song, “Nobody Else Will Be There,” seize me & I’m reminded that no one else in music today matches their arrangement & musicianship. I’m adding “Born to Beg,” “Slow Show,” “I Need My Girl,” and “Runaway” to my list of favorite love songs.

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