#i probably will not be allowed to take more than the regular 15 minute break to look at it.

[j-esbian]

i rly rly hope i’m able to see the eclipse tomorrow

[agirlunfilteredsblog]

A GUIDE ON HOW TO STUDY EFFICIENTLY

Hey girls!! I know a lot of us are on break, whether that be in high school, college or university, so I figured I could maybe show you guys some tips and tricks that have helped me throughout my studies…

A little bit about my educational background:

-In high school, I was part of an IB school (the girls that know the struggle, know the struggle). If you don’t know what that is, it’s essentially a program designed to help students get a better understanding of the world and how it works. We basically do the regular high school program + the IB one, so it’s extra workload, but we do get an additional diploma at the end of our studies!

-I am now in college, studying psychology and I was recently invited to join the honors roll for my next semester (super excited about that!!). I absolutely love it and i’ve also gotten the opportunity to study other subjects such as anthropology, world history, art history, etc.

1. LEARNING WHAT TO PRIORITIZE

My biggest weakness throughout my first semester of college was balancing my workload and my social activities. Often times, I would either only do school work for weeks and not go out or simply go out until very late on school nights and get nothing done. Both scenarios are just as negative. I would be drained on the inside, and simply become exhausted by minimal activities. What helped me personally was establishing a clear schedule, which I know isn’t ideal for everyone as we all have differing schedules, but trust me, having that base helps A LOT.

2. SETTING REMINDERS TO STUDY

I dont know if this was just me, but in high school, I would constantly fall asleep and take naps after school. This would result in me totally forgetting I had to study when I woke up… Setting up reminders on my phone helped me remember what I had to do. I also included little motivational messages to keep me inspired to work.

3. KNOWING WHEN TO PUT THE BOOK DOWN

Girls, I know how hard it is sometimes to give yourself grace and put your study books down, especially when there’s a big test coming up. However, it has been proven that over reading or over studying actually has negative effects on your learning/memory. Stressing yourself out will do nothing but put you in a negative state, which is not what you want going into that exam. If you’re feeling overwhelmed, put the book down for 15 minutes and go do something that puts you at peace. Me personally, I make myself a cup of peppermint tea and put on my favorite show.

4. HAVING A STUDY METHOD THAT WORKS FOR YOU

There are many different types of study methods, so I’m not gonna tell you which one you should do as we are all different, but finding the one that works for you does ALL the difference. The way I study is very simple, I establish a game plan (I list everything I want to complete) and I give myself a time frame to complete it. The time frames are always very realistic for me, so I never have to stress about not having enough time. For each “task” I complete, I allow myself a 15-20 minute break and I study for no more than 3 hours at a time.

5. NEVER PUT STUDYING BEHIND

I am such a procrastinator, but I had to learn very quickly, especially in college, that this was not possible. The work load is so much more charged and I simply cannot get away with studying last minute. If you’re in high school, start implementing healthy study habits now, so that once you reach college, you’re already used to studying the right way (learn from me hahaha)!

I am 100% sure that there are more I’m forgetting, but these are the main ones I implement in order to keep a high average and a healthy school/social life :) I know these are very basic and you’ve probably heard of them before but I still think it’s important we talk about them to remind ourselves on what to do! If you would like more of this type of content please let me know!! My next posts will be much more light though dont worry, we are still on winter break after all ;))

so much love,

a girl unfiltered 💋

[vad-hander]

JAEBEOM, THE GUY FROM THE BAR

Pairing: Jaebeom x reader

Genre: Series | Eventual Smut | Angst | Fluff

Warnings: break up, cheating, strangers to lovers, mentions of drinking

Words: 2.3k

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

You were sitting at the bar playing with the glass in your hands. The cocktail you were consuming for the past 15 minutes was almost gone and you were considering what should be your next order in your head. Your eyes ran after the bartender, watching him shuffle the bottle, finally pouring liquid into the glass of a blonde girl that was hungrily watching it fill up.

You lifted your arm, letting the guy behind the bar know you needed a refill, one more. You already lost count to the number of drinks you had in the last hour, trying to make your brain ignore the void inside of your chest. Your vision was getting blurry and it’s exactly what you were trying to do. You were trying to lose your sences with alcohol to not see what was happening to your left. The more drinks you downed, the less you saw with your peripheral vision. Everything went as planned, and you put all of your energy to erase the memory of this not being your initial plan when you left your place a couple of hours ago. You watched bartender finally move in your direction, sighing in relief. You were beginning to think he ignored you on purpose and were considering the option of becoming the annoying drunk customer that would make a scene for not getting their drink for too long.

“Let this one be on me.” you heard a voice behind you, not paying too much attention to it. Another guy was trying to be smooth with a wasted pretty girl at the bar, nothing new, you were just glad they weren’t bothering you.

Bartender turned his head towards you, finally stopping in front of your stool. You were about to open your mouth to order, having a slight smile on your lips, when your eyes finally focused on his face and you saw he wasn’t looking at you, his eyes were pierced to someone behind you. You felt anger blow up your body in a second, making your face red. You felt like you could punch the person who just got in front of you, right when you were about to order. Sudden anger made you want to turn around and fight with that person, until you realised bartender was looking back at you. He clearly was asking for your permission with his eyes and the sudden thought of you being the wasted pretty girl that someone was trying to hit on crossed your mind. You turned around immediately, feeling your face get even redder now due to the guys’ behind you intense staring. You felt puzzled, shy and confused all at the same time. You were pretty sure you swallowed your tongue in shock when your eyes ran over the stranger’s face and you had to lick your lips to make sure you didn’t. His handsome features made you scared and more than thinking what even made him talk to you, you were scared the drink he’d get for you could be poisoned. You stuttered trying to get a reply from your throat and he chuckled lightly at you. You noticed how his eyes turned into crescent moons when he did so and something inside of you switched.

“I swear, I’m not a creep.” he smiled kindly. “If you’re okay with me sitting here, I’ll explain.” you noticed how the seat next to you was empty and you wondered if he made someone leave while you were absorbed into watching the bartender.

“Okay…” you finally found it in you to speak. “You can sit, but not the drink. I’m able to pay for myself.”

“Deal.” he sat down and ordered a whiskey. Bartender nodded and turned to you, probably seeing how angered you were before and willing to take your order first. You asked for another rum with coke, turning your attention to the guy that seated himself next to you. Your eyes ran over the silhouette of his long nose with a sharp tip, plump upper lip that reminded you the shape of a heart, quickly running over his round but sharp cheeks. You noticed how he had his ears pierced and when you lowered your eyes to his hands that were laying at the bar you noticed silver rings on a couple of his fingers. You lifted your eyes back up meeting with his piercing gaze once again. You felt a flash of embarrassment and wondered if he noticed you checking him out.

He was handsome, but you weren’t interested. You repeated this before tasting your new drink on your tongue and licking your lips again.

“So…?” you asked when he kept staring and sipping on his whiskey quietly. You were beginning to feel awkward under his gaze. “I’m wondering what made you think I’m in need of a company?” you allowed the glass to meet the stone of the table, running your fingers through your hair to push them back. He did the same and you suddenly found it hard to breathe. You thought maybe, you hit your limit with the drinks tonight, deciding to not finish this glass.

“I watched you for a while and lost count of the drinks you had in just this hour. You don’t look like a party monster.” You made an offended face and a smile lit up his face again. “I’m sorry, but it’s true. Plus, I don’t think I ever saw you here before, and I’m a regular here. You don’t seem to be trying to seduce anyone so I guessed something happened to you and you might need someone to help you get home.” you were surprised with his precise observations to the extent of forgetting to not show it all on your face.

“So, you’re saying you’re not a creep and then you say you want to walk me home.” you made a suspicious face expression and he chuckled making a loud enough noise for you to hear it.

“And if it bothered you to show me where you live I would’ve taken you to my place.” he pointed biting his lower lip.

“Oh, that is definitely calming, totally a better option.” you nodded and the both of you laughed.

“You’re pretty when you smile.” he suddenly said with a serious face expression. You stopped laughing too and felt redness crawl over your face. The light atmosphere you felt come with laughter left you exactly same second the words left his mouth. Your eyes ran over the club and you didn’t find anything better than grabbing the glass and taking a sip of the drink you decided a second ago to not drink anymore. You felt soberer than before and the liquid even gave your throat a burn as if it was your first sip.

You weren’t used to being hit on by handsome guys at clubs due to two reasons: 1 - you weren’t going out much and 2 – well, actually, it was the first time you were all by yourself drowning yourself in drinks. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t not say it when I saw your face light up, you were too serious this whole time.”

“Thanks…” you coughed feeling the conversation die in awkwardness.

“So, are you okay? Something happened? You can tell me, I’m a complete stranger, nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I’m…fine.” you chewed on your lip wondering if it’s a good idea to share your life at the club when your practically wasted.

“Is it because of the guy over there?” his finger pointed behind you and you turned around with the speed of a turtle to see where he was pointing.

“What made you think so?” you quickly turned back, genuinely wondering.

“You keep on glancing back there, and every time you do you down your drink. For the past hour people switched around but your eyes kept glued to the only person that’s not moving over there.” He summarized.

“And you’re a regular here because you come to watch lonely girls get drunk and then offer to take them home? Whether their or yours?” you tried to change the topic, expanding your hand to the drink but changing your decision immediately.

“No, I’m a regular here because I live two blocks down the road. I was here with a friend, but he had to leave early because his girlfriend called him. I noticed you when I got here because you’re not the usual type to hang out here and it caught my eye. You caught my eye so I watched if you were with someone, but then I noticed you drinking non-stop and noticed you stare there. I came because I only wanted to make sure you’re fine and safe, and I still want to know that.” The tone that he spoke with made you believe him and you felt a tiny bit more relaxed than before. Maybe it was naïve to believe the first stranger you met but the alcohol in your system told you it’s not a big deal. You didn’t live in this area, you never came here before, talking to him won’t actually change much in your life because you wouldn’t remember anything by tomorrow, keeping in mind the amount of drinks you just had.

“That’s my boyfriend.” you simply stated.

“Who?” he asked confused and looked behind you.

“The guy that don’t move around, he’s who I came with. We’re dating.”

“With him?” he asked in disbelief, forcing for you to look there once again, to watch your boyfriend in action.

Your eyes immediately found a tall guy in the crowd. Currently he was dry humping a girl in the corner. He looked even more wasted now than twenty minutes ago when you looked at him last.

“Why is he with someone else there and you’re here. Are you two in that type of relationship?”

“That’s his best friend’s sister, they’re just having fun, don’t imagine things that aren’t there.” You defended, feeling yourself dumber with every word that left your mouth.

“You’re the one that’s trying to drink away the pain, I guess it’s you who should stop imagining.”

“It’s not that.” You said seriously, turning back to face the guy, not being able to look there for any longer.

“Why are you not with them having fun?”

“I don’t like to dance if it’s not just me and him.”

“He just left you here alone? For the whole evening? Not even checking on you once?” you looked the guy in the eyes knowing for a fact he’s right, but you told yourself he wasn’t. He doesn’t know everything. He doesn’t know you or your boyfriend. He doesn’t know he actually loves you. “He doesn’t love you.” he added a silent moment after.

“You crossed the line.” You tried to tell him to apologize calmly but he definitely didn’t catch it.

“If I was your boyfriend I wouldn’t leave you for a minute for some cheap-ass girl from a cheap diner around the corner. I’m sure I saw her there during day time.”

“What’s the exact reason for your lecture?” you were getting worked up. Who is he to tell you shit about your boyfriend? Who is he to play with your emotions like that?

Your boyfriend always told you you were a little bit sensitive, you were jealous under circumstances you shouldn’t have and he was sweet and caring enough to reassure you. You knew this was just one of those occasions and it was your own decision to stay at the bar when she suggested to dance, you were the one who made yourself go crazy in jealousy.

“No reason, I just noticed something, thought I’ll say it as well, since we’re talking anyway.” You ran your eyes once again to the corner where your boyfriend was, before focusing on your glass. The conversation died and you thought maybe he’ll leave since now he knows you won’t fall for whatever he had in store. “How long have you two been together?”

“8 months.”

“Dump him.” He said freely and your eyes shot up to the guy on your right side. Did he lose his mind?

“What?”

“Dump the guy if 8 months into a relationship he finds it normal to leave you at the bar to drown in drinks to make out in front of your face with someone else. That’s fucked.”

“He’s drunk, that’s his friends’ sister and I’m drunk and sensitive. You can chill out, Sherlock Holmes, you won’t find anything interesting here.” You made an excusing face sitting straight to stare into your phone. The guy went quiet and you let him be, killing the time.

“Baby, I’m sorry I took too long.” you felt your boyfriend’s hands over your waist. His cheek landed on your shoulder blade and he sighed letting you smell all the drinks he had. His body weight almost made you fall off the stool and the guy you talked to before prevented you from falling by your knee. You tried to ignore him and turned your face to see your boyfriend.

“Let’s go to yours?” you asked in hope.

“Yeah. Can Jack’s sister come with us? She can’t go back home, she said she’s fine with the couch.”

“It’s your place.” you nodded.

“You’re the best.” He kissed your cheek leaving a wet mark there. “By the way, I missed you so much, I wish you went dancing with us, they played your favorite song, did you hear it?” your boyfriends words made what the stranger guy said die in your head immediately.

“Yeah, me too. Let’s go?” you asked trying to stand up under his weight and he found balance allowing for you to do so. “See? You’re wrong, bye, good luck.” you said to the handsome guy, taking your boyfriends expanded hand and leaving the club with him. And his best friend’s sister too, of course.

-

more people voted for Jaebeom fic, so here's pt.1

I hope you enjoyed it, please let me know what you think! <3

[nevertheless-moving]

Star Wars AU #20: MacenJar AU

Inspired by this meme and with permission from @simpskywalker

This au is dedicated to everyone who told me that this concept ‘gave them a headache’ or ‘psychic damage’. Especially that special someone who begged me to ‘please stop’ because ‘i hate this, i hate this so much’ and told me ‘please don’t say more words about this.’

Crack Lies Ahead, enough to consume a man. I have spoken.

“Ani. Ani. Anakin Skywalker.”

“Hmm?” The dulcet sounds of Padme calling his name dragged Anakin from sleep against his will. 

“Anakin, you have to get up.”

He groaned, rolling over. “...here’s my face...I’ll...be awake in a second...just sit down...I’m awake...”

“No, Anakin you have to leave, remember. You have a 5 AM take-off scheduled, and you made me promise I would get you up early this time, come on.”

She cruelly yanked the covers away. He gasped in betrayal. 

“My own wife...how could you.”

“Anakin if you’re not out of bed in the next 30 seconds the next time you beg to stay the night because ‘you can get up early, you swear’ I am kicking you out before anyone sits anywhere near anyone’s face, do you understand.”

He sat bolt upright and stumbled out of bed. “Ok, Ok, I’m up I- Padme!”

“Yes?” She asked sweetly, brushing her hair at the vanity. 

“It’s 3 AM!”

“Yes I know, you were going to stop at that bakery I recommended, remember?”

“You woke me up an hour and half early so I could stop at a bakery,” he asked, disbelieving.

“Yes, Anakin, it was your idea. It was going to be your cover, in case anyone wondered what you were doing in the building.”

“That is-” before he could call it the stupidest idea he had ever heard, the memory of promising Padme that staying the night was a good idea because it would facilitate his cunning ruse (he was distracted, ok? Padme was wearing a lot of layers) came rushing back.

“-right,” he finished lamely.

Padme just hummed and began braiding in her cosmetic forcefields. 

Anakin managed to stretch, complete his morning refresher run, and arrange his robes in a suitably decorous fashion by the time Padme had established the base layer of her hairstyle for the day.

A quick kiss- no goodbye, it hurt too much to say goodbyes in war - and Anakin was out the door. 

He idly scratched his chin, vacantly looking out the lift and vaguely considering growing a beard. The pre-dawn view was quickly replaced by metal walls as the ride dropped below the skyline.

The transparisteel pod began to slow scarcely one third of the way down. Anakin suppressed a groan and tried to arrange his expression in Jedi-stoic manner, hoping that whoever got in the lift with him would be too intimidated by seeing a Jedi close-up to think about what they were doing in a Senatorial Apartment building at 3:15 in the morning. If they ask, I’m visiting the famous Bebbisun Bakery. Bennison? BELLASAN. I’m visiting the Bellasan Bakery.

Actually, anyone getting into the elevator this early was probably also doing the walk of shame so it’s probably fi-KRIFFING SITH SPIT THAT’S

“Master Windu!” Anakin cleared his throat, trying to lower his voice an octave. “Good- Good Morning!”

Windu’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. “Ah. Knight Skywalker. Good morning to you as well,” he replied, stepping in the elevator, doors closing behind.

The lift descended as Anakin’s heart rate skyrocketed. This was it. Windu had to be here for Anakin. What other possible explanation could there be? WHY WASN’T HE SAYING ANYTHING?

Wait.

What other possible explanation...could...why wasn’t he saying ANYTHING?

Anakin scrutinized Master Windu out of the corner of his eye. Were those...the same robes he was wearing yesterday? They looked like the same robes but then again...pretty much all robes looked the same so this was probably a stupid way to figure things out. Fuck, it was too early for this.

Unsurprisingly, he couldn’t get a sense of the Master’s surface emotions. But his underlying aura seemed...happy? Typically Windu's serene presence had a tinge of righteous fury (something that had frightened him back when he was a child). But now that ever present vaapad edge was... softened? Anakin wracked his tired brain for a more reasonable explanation than- than the obvious but obviously impossible. He had to projecting. Right? Then again...couplings weren’t forbidden (even if Anakin couldn’t quite understand how people enjoyed just- having sex without any attachment).

The corners of Anakin’s lips twitched. The Master of the Order. Getting laid. Master Windu. In the Senatorial apartments. Mace Windu. What level had he gotten on? Above aides...diplomats probably. Should he ask? Force, this was too good- he couldn’t not ask.

Windu stared at him cooly and the knight instantly sobered. What was he thinking? Windu was obviously trying to trick him! If he said anything, Windu would turn it against him! Well, he wouldn’t be fooled so easily. Anakin spent the next several levels of descent staring forward, determined not to be the one to break the silence. 

He was so focused that he didn’t notice the lift slowing prematurely again until the doors opened; an elderly Rodian hobbled in. The two Jedi moved even further apart to allow the man some space.  The lift closed and newcomer glanced at the humans curiously. 

“Aren’t you Jedi? What are two Jedi doing here so early?”

“Bakery,” Mace and Anakin responded in unison, heads snapping to stare at the other in surprise.

The Rodian chuckled. “Oh, that Bellasan place, right?”

“Yes,” Windu replied smoothly. “They have a famously unique caf blend.”

“And you can’t get Sweesonberry rolls anywhere else,” Anakin added quickly, not letting the opportunity to firm up his cover go to waste.

“You mammals and your carbohydrates,” The elderly reptilian clucked, bemused.

Knight Skywalker and Master Windu exchanged wary looks. The door pinged open on level 4848. 

“Enjoy!” the overly entertained Rodian called out as they stepped out from the closing doors.

Anakin cleared his throat. “After you, Master Windu,” he said politely. CHECKMATE FUCKER.

But Windu just nodded serenely, striding confidently ahead, past the checkpoints and into the attached upper-crust market. After a very short walk, Anakin found himself in line behind Mace Windu at a pastry shop in the basement of his wife’s apartment building.

Anakin blearily thought that sentence through again, then subtly pinched the inside of his arm.

Nope, he was awake.

Every second that passed Anakin had to fight the steadily increasing urge to blurt out something stupid, and possibly incriminating, if not both. Just say something bland! Nothing about why they’re both here so early. Nothing about coming here before. Something casual.

“Smells good,” Anakin said.

Nailed it!

“Indeed,” Mace replied.

I’m a genius! He actually thinks I’m here for the bakery! He’s never going to suspect a thing! He was probably here for some boring pre-dawn meeting, and now I’ve got the perfect excuse to come visit Padme whenever! I can probably start sneaking off more often, I’ve just got to remember to bring back a pasty or something. And he can’t even say shit about un-Jedi like consumption!

“Skywalker-”

Oh no. Please be about the bakery. Pleasebeaboutthe

“Believe me when I tell you that I’d rather not ask-”

Oh NO. THIS ISN’T GOING TO BE ABOUT THE BAKERY. I’M AN IDIOT.

“-But did you fly here in a temple speeder?”

Cold sweat started to trickle down Anakin’s back as they shuffled forward automatically in the surprisingly long queue. Guess that’s why Padme woke me up so early.

“Knight Skywalker? Did you hear me?”

“Yes, Master Windu, sorry- I was, uh, distracted by the specials board. I, um, have my own hoverbike. Built it myself. No temple resources involved.”

“Sounds...distinctive.” Windu’s tone seemed neutral, but the way he pinched the bridge of his nose was obviously irritated. They stepped forward again. Why are so many people at this bakery so early? Guess we’re far enough down that day/night cycles don’t matter so much. Oh kriff, he’s massaging his temples now. Why is he mad about the bike? Is he going to ask where I landed it? Fuck.

Anakin swallowed the lump in his throat. “I- I thought it would be better to take personal property. Since this isn’t exactly order business.”

“That’s very responsible of you. Such...separation of personal from professional is an important skill for a Jedi.” 

The trickle of sweat down his spine increased. The Chosen One discretely wiped his sweaty palms on the inside of his sleeves and prayed that his outer robe was hiding any growing pit stains. 

Are we...actually talking about this? Is he going to admit to having an affair? Is he going to tell me to keep this quiet? I CAN BARELY KEEP MY OWN RELATIONSHIP SECRET! Does he know about Padme? Does he know we’re married? Is this conversation still about the bakery visit? Is HE married?

“However...such a vehicle might not be the most discrete. And discretion is also an important skill.”

Is he giving me permission to use the temple landspeeders to visit padme? Is he telling me to take the bus? WAIT! IS THIS A METAPHOR? Is he telling me to come here less? Is this still about the bakery? Did I actually check that I wasn’t still asleep or did I just dream that I checked?

“Do you understand, Knight Skywalker”

“I- uhh. I mean- well, ummm- OH look, it’s your turn to order!”

Master Windu stepped up to the counter. 

“Hello, again! Same as last time?”

OH FORCE GODS HE’S A REGULAR. THIS IS IT. I’M NEVER GOING TO GET TO SEE OBI-WAN OR ASHOKA AGAIN AND PADME’S CAREER IS GOING TO BE RUINED AND

“The same blend please, but please add on one of your Sweesonberry rolls- a friend recommended them.”

...Did Mace Windu just call me his friend?

“Excellent choice! Your friend has good taste!”

Mace Windu stepped to the side and Anakin Skywalker stepped up. “...I’ll have what he had.” 

A minute or two later, they were walking back to the lift, matching disposamugs and flimsibags in hand. 

To try and delay the inevitable, the pale and now very sweaty young Jedi took a sip of caf. He raised both brows involuntary. “This is...really good. Holy kriff. I don’t usually drink caf for the flavor but...wow.”

“Worth the trip?” Windu asked. Anakin choked a little but successfully managed to swallow. He took another sip to avoid answering. 

Windu took a bite of his roll, making a small noise of appreciation, “The pastry is also excellent. I don’t have much of a sweet tooth but this is remarkably smooth...I can’t say I’ve ever had anything quite like it.”

“Floral, right?” Anakin said, grinning into his cup. 

“Yes, that’s a good description.” Ha! I told Padme I was paying attention.

They drank companionably as the lift indicator dinged closer. 

“Skywalker...you’re parked on 4970, right?”

The knight nodded, too afraid to speak. The force seemed to swirl at the precipice of something. 

The Master sighed. “Look- I’ve got an unregistered van- this one time only, stow the speeder, and I’ll give you a ride back. If you’re visiting the bakery in the future- please take something with a closed cab. Last thing we need is the tabloids wondering where you’re going...”

Anakin nodded again, more eagerly again. He was practically being given permission to visit Padme! That was totally worth an excruciatingly awkward flight back to the temple! He just had to chew slowly so he couldn’t blurt out anything marriage related! He was a genius!

The lift opened.

“Jar-Jar!” Anakin said, surprised and pleased. “Wow, are you also here for the bakery? This place really is popular!”

“Ani! Little Ani! Wassa you doin here?” Jar-Jar looked around wildly, then stumbled out, foot catching at the gap. Windu darted forward and effortlessly saved the Gungan before he hit the floor, while Anakin stuck his arm forward to catch the closing door.

“Bakery, Jar Jar!” he said as he stepped inside. “I’d love to talk, but we’ve actually got to get back to the temple!”

Windu struggled to untangle himself from Jar-Jar, who was being particularly unhelpful about it, even for him. Wow he’s even clingier than usual this early in the morning. It’s nice how patient Master Windu is being; I feel like even Obi-Wan can be too hard on Jar-Jar sometimes.

“Actually Skywalker, why don’t you go on ahead and stow the bike- I just remembered I meant to pick something up for Council; I won’t take long.”

“Uh. Alright,” Anakin said, catching the keys. I guess I can’t really be late if I arrive with Master Windu.

“Ossa no!” Jar-Jar exclaimed sadly. “I was justa saying to Macey lassa night thatsa I missed talkin wit little Ani!”

Anakin smiled reassuringly as the lift began to close. “Don’t worry Jar-Jar! We’ll- catch uh-HOLD ON did you say LAST NIGHT?!”

Mace’s eyes closed in resignation as the door shut on the pair, Jar-Jar still tangled around the Jedi.

AND MACE WASN’T EVEN TRYING TO PUT HIM BACK UPRIGHT ANYMORE HOLY KRIFF JUST PUT THAT TOGETHER.

Anakin stared blankly at the metal walls as they rushed past. The lone Jedi Knight took a long sip of caff, then carefully placed the pastry bag and drink on the floor. He systematically wadded up the sleeve of his robe and shoved in his mouth. He then spent the next few minutes squealing with unholy glee while literally bouncing off the walls in a manner only accessible to a force sensitive in an elevator. He was still panting slightly when the lift opened on the primary parking level.

We can double date! Padme and I can host! I can help Mace and Jar-Jar plan their wedding! We can reform the order to allow for romantic love! I can be Jar-Jar’s best man! Padme and I can have another ceremony and Obi-Wan can give me away while Mace officiates and  and then we’ll all have sweesonbury cake and Jar-Jar can help teach our kids how to swim! 

With those dreamy thoughts running through his mind, it was child’s work to follow the the force to the unremarkable hovervan. He was humming to himself when Master Windu opened the door. 

He beamed at the older Jedi. Windu scowled in reply. Anakin smiled wider, unintimidated. He genuinely liked the Gungan, but anyone who could spend hours with Jar-Jar had to have a soft side.

“You know, Jar-Jar is a long time friend of Senator-”

“No.” Windu cut the eager words brusquely. 

Anakin shrank back, a little hurt.

(Maybe a lot hurt.)

Mace glanced over at the obviously crestfallen young General and sighed before amending his words.

“Not- Not right now, alright? Maybe if you’re miraculously more discrete about this than you are about your affection for Senator Amidala, then we can talk, understood?”

Anakin nodded with absolute determination, glimmering images of fairytale weddings visible once more. Distant, perhaps- but the chance was worth any amount of tongue biting. Now that there was a real, possible future where he could have it all, now that he knew Windu had a heart somewhere under his robes- he could be patient. 

He could be very patient.

Anakin calmed his grin down to a smaller, more Jedi-like smile, taking a sip of the cool but still really good caf. He channeled Obi-Wan’s most neutral diplomatic grace.

“Thank you for the ride, Master Windu. I appreciate it.”

Windu gave him an approving glance. “You’re more than welcome, Knight Skywalker.”

Feeling bold, he continued on with his best non-mocking impression of Obi-Wan.

"Have you had a chance to read the latest report on helmet redesigns? I think they might really improve peripheral vision without compromising concussive resistance.”

Mace hummed thoughtfully. “I have. I’m somewhat concerned about deploying such a radical change mid-campaign. Even better gear requires an adjustment period, and I’d rather minimize needless deaths while the troops readjust to hud flow.”

“Yes, that’s a reasonable concern, I was talking to Captain Rex-”

They spent the remainder of the flight chatting comfortably about troop safety and absentmindedly eating (or possibly stress eating in response to the prolonged absence of interpersonal conflict) the box of pastries Mace had picked up. When they arrived at the temple, they divvied up the remainder between them, quietly agreeing that there weren’t enough to share anyway. 

They continued their conversation, Master Windu accompanying him to the orbital loading bay. 

Obi-Wan rushed over in alarm at the sight of them approaching. “Anakin, there you are- I was starting to wonder if you’d make it. Terribly sorry Master Windu- I hope he wasn’t too much of a bother-”

“He’s not your padawan anymore, you don’t have to apologize for him. Though I do appreciate the reflex.”

“I suppose the concern isn’t completely baseless.” Anakin said, tone deliberately mildly. Mace chuckled slightly and Obi-Wan took a step back, slightly frightened by the sudden camaraderie. Anakin pretended to take a sip from his now empty disposamug to avoid fist pumping the air or cheering.

“I- Yes well- the important thing is you’re here in time for departure. What- what is that in the bag.”

Moment of Truth. Don’t freak out. Focus. Prove you can be discrete, THEN double dates, THEN Jedi Wedding Ceremony.

“Sweesonbury Roll,” Anakin answered placidly. He pretended to take another sip of caf. “Master Windu was kind enough to give me a ride from the bakery.”

“That’s- I’m sorry, what?” Anakin bit the inside of cheek to keep himself from reacting to Obi-Wan’s palpable bewilderment.

“I had to double back and get more, but we came straight here after,” Mace added helpfully, with zero hint of intentional mischief. “Oh and Skywalker- you can call me Mace if we’re not discussing temple business.”

Anakin SCREAMED (internally, of course). Outwardly, he simply bowed politely. “And you’re welcome to call me Anakin, of course.”

He deliberately avoided looking directly at Obi-Wan, his former Master’s bug-eyed reaction already pushing him to the edge, even just visible as it was out of the corner of his eye.

Windu nodded in return. “Safe travels you two. May the force with you.”

“And with you.” Anakin replied.

“May the force be with you,” Obi-Wan rushed to say, after a short delay.

Master Windu turned and exited the cargo bay doors. Anakin threw out the mug in a nearby bin, pulling out a roll and biting into it before turning to face Obi-Wan. They made eye-contact, each waiting for the other to break first. Usually that would be Anakin, but he had goals now. The Knight chewed. His Master’s eyes narrowed. The older man (who may have aged significantly in the last 5 minutes) finally broke.

“Who are you?”

Anakin just sighed, maintaining the Kenobi impression. “Come on Master, we don’t want to keep the troops waiting.” With that, he walked forward, hiding his smile as Obi-Wan followed closely at his heels. 

“Since when does my apprentice visit bakeries with Mace Windu?” Obi-Wan asked, almost desperately.

“You’re making it sound like a bigger deal than it is.” 

Master Kenobi sputtered as the pair opened the airlock for the short-range shuttle. 

Anakin mustered up an earnest smile. “Master? Would you mind flying- I’m still eating and-”

Obi-Wan made an incoherent noise of horrified outrage before fumbling for his communicator. 

“What are you doing?”

“NOTHING IS MAKING SENSE RIGHT NOW. EITHER YOU AND MACE NEED TO GO TO THE HEALING HALLS OR I DO!”

Anakin burst out laughing. “Relax Obi-Wan, I’m messing with you, holy shit. Obviously I’m flying.”

Obi-Wan slumped into the co-pilot seat, rubbing at his eyes. “Don’t do that Anakin! My nerves are stretched thin enough by the war as it is-”

“Sorry, Sorry!”

They strapped in and took off, Anakin still chuckling occasionally, Obi-Wan scowling in irritation each time. 

They ascended above the towering skyline alongside the first rays of sunlight.

“So you didn’t go to a bakery with Master Windu this morning?”

“Uhh-”

[joshjacksons]

Joshua Jackson interview with "Mr Porter" (2021)

Minutes before Mr Joshua Jackson joins me in a booth for a Friday afternoon drink at a vibey hotel bar in Santa Monica, he’s confronted by his past. Or rather, a woman in her early twenties who is binge-watching Dawson’s Creek, the teen show about a close-knit group of high-school friends coming of age in a sleepy American town, which made Jackson incredibly famous between 1998 and 2003. The series, which also made household names of Ms Michelle Williams and Ms Katie Holmes, went off air 18 years ago, but is now streaming on Netflix, to the bemusement of Jackson, who played lovable rogue Pacey Witter. “This girl was like, ‘Are you...?’ And I’m like, ‘Yes, I am. He got old. I’m sorry to break it to you,’” he says, before ordering an iced tea and a charcuterie board to tide him over until dinner time. “It always surprises me when young people say they’ve just got into Dawson’s Creek. I’m like, ‘Is it a costume drama to you? Do you feel like you’re watching a historical documentary?’”

The idea of a Friends-style reunion episode or a Sex And The City revival feels equally far-fetched to Canadian-born Jackson, now 43 and wearing it well in a pale green linen shirt and tailored linen trousers by Oliver Spencer that complement his fading brown hair and Cali-tanned skin.

“I don’t know why you’d want to [bring it back],” he says. “Nobody needs to know what those characters are doing in middle age. We left them in a nice place. Nobody needs to see that Pacey’s back hurts. I don’t think we need that update.”

And Jackson doesn’t need Dawson’s Creek. From Mr JJ Abrams’ sci-fi series Fringe (2008-2013) to the Golden Globe award-winning The Affair (2014-2019), from Ms Ava DuVernay’s ground-breaking true-crime drama When They See Us (2019) to the recent Ms Reese Witherspoon and Ms Kerry Washington-produced Little Fires Everywhere (2020), he has commanded the small screen – with a collection of dynamic and diverse work – ever since.

His latest role as Mr Christopher Duntsch, the Texas surgeon convicted of gross malpractice when 33 of his patients were left seriously injured after he operated on them and two of them died, in chilling Peacock crime drama Dr Death, is only stepping his career up another gear.

“I’ve never played anyone irredeemable before,” says Jackson, who is joined in the eight-part series (based on the 2018 Wondery podcast of the same name) by Messrs Christian Slater and Alec Baldwin. “He is charming, gregarious and has a high-level intellect, but he’s also a misogynist, probably a sociopath, certainly a narcissist and a complete incompetent who is incapable of seeing himself.”

If Duntsch is terrifying, then Jackson’s portrayal is even more so. The artist formerly known as Pacey is virtually unrecognisable (thanks to prosthetics) in the opening scene, but the real challenge for Jackson was allowing himself to view someone who is so “spectacularly evil” as a human being in order to walk in his shoes. “It’s a more damning portrayal of the man to make him into a human being, rather than just make him the bad guy,” he says. “He really believes he’s the hero, he’s the genius and that he’s the victim, so once I got past my own judgment, all the other things fell into place.”

Jackson might have his pick of stellar roles – and challenges – now, but it has not happened by accident. Take it from someone who has been in the business since landing his first job aged 14 in Disney’s live-action movie series The Mighty Ducks, opposite Brat Pack alumnus Mr Emilio Estevez.

“You try to make it look like it happens accidentally,” he says, “but there is no way to do this and not be ambitious. I’d say I’m extremely ambitious because I’ve been doing this cutthroat job for nearly 30 years. I’m in the pay-off phase of my career now. One of the benefits of surviving for as long as I have is you get to learn from your own mistakes.”

Such as? “I wouldn’t say, ‘I wish I hadn’t done that,’ because it all becomes bricks in a path, but [after Dawson’s Creek] I was not choosy enough about the things I was doing. You get stuck. You start trying to perform the performance you think people are hoping to see you do. I was so used to working all the time that I just worked all the time. There was definitely a conscious moment in my mid-twenties when I realised I wasn’t really enjoying the work that I was doing. My manager at the time just said, ‘Take a breath. You’re burnt out.’”

The turning point came in 2005, when Jackson was offered a role in the two-hander Mr David Mamet play A Life In The Theatre, opposite Sir Patrick Stewart. “God bless him, Patrick could have made my life miserable because I had no idea what I was doing, ” he says. “I hadn’t been on stage since I was a kid and now I was in the West End in over my head. But it reminded me that I actually enjoyed being an actor, that it’s not about the red carpet or travelling around the world. What I really enjoy is working on good material with good people.”

It’s no surprise Jackson’s time on Dawson’s Creek led to a career crisis. From the ages of 19 to 24, he lived with his fellow cast mates in Wilmington, North Carolina, filming day in, day out, in an arrangement he likens to college. “You get to the end and they’re like, ‘Here’s your degree. Go live now. You’re an adult. Go out into the world,’” he says.

But most graduates don’t have to deal with global fame. “It’s transitory. You’re only ever cool for a moment and then you become much less cool. I was always pretty dubious about flatterers,” he says, recalling a time he was stung in London in the mid-2000s. “I went on a date in Hyde Park with a woman whose name I will not use – she was socialite-famous – and she was acting completely bizarre, looking over her shoulder the whole time. I came to find out that she had hired a photographer to follow us through the park and gave a whole story to the tabloids about how I was going to meet her family.”

It was his growing fortune, rather than fame, that caused Jackson the most anxiety. “Suddenly, at 19 years old, I was making more in a week than most of my friends’ parents would make in a year,” he says. “It was lovely to have the money, but it was that feeling of nobody is worth that kind of money. You feel like a fraud and it took me a long time to forgive myself for not being the thing that I was perceived as.”

Born in Vancouver, but raised in Topanga, California, until he was eight (before moving back to Vancouver following his parents’ divorce), Jackson bought his childhood home in 2001 and lives in it today with his wife, British Queen & Slim actor Ms Jodie Turner-Smith, and their 15-month-old daughter.

“My father unfortunately was not a good father or a husband and exited the scene, but that house in Topanga was where everything felt simple, so it was a very healing thing for me to do,” he says. Fast-forward to 2021 and his baby daughter now sleeps in her father’s childhood bedroom. “There was a mural of a dragon on the wall in that room that I couldn’t believe was still there, years later. The owner [who sold him the house] said, ‘I knew it meant a lot to somebody and that they were going to come back for it some day.’”

Becoming a first-time parent during a pandemic sounds stressful, but it afforded Jackson months at home with his wife and child that his normal work schedule wouldn’t have allowed.

“I now recognise how perverse the way that we have set up our society is,” he says. “There is not a father I know who works a regular job who didn’t go back to the office a week later. It’s robbing that man of the opportunity to bond with his child and spend time with his partner.”

Despite his obvious career ambitions, fatherhood has changed Jackson’s priorities in “every possible way”, he says. “It’s 100 per cent changed how I approach my work and my life. That has been made so clear to me in this past year. For me to feel good about what I’m doing day to day, my family has to be the central focus.

“There are plenty of things left for me to do, but now the thing that gets me excited is experiencing the world through my daughter’s eyes. I can’t wait to take her scuba diving. I can’t wait to take her skiing. I can’t wait to read a great book with her. I’m not worried at all she’ll be a wallflower. She’s been a character from the word go.”

Jackson met Turner-Smith, 34, two days after his 40th birthday. He had been single since his 10-year relationship with German actress Ms Diane Kruger ended in 2016. “I was not looking to fall in love again or meet the mother of my child, but life has other plans for you,” he says.

The couple met at a party. Turner-Smith was wearing the same The Future Is Female Ejaculation T-shirt Ms Tessa Thompson’s character, Detroit, wears in the 2018 film Sorry To Bother You. “That’s what I used to break the ice. I shouted, ‘Detroit!’ across the room. Not the smoothest thing I’ve ever done, but it worked. We were pretty much inseparable from the word go. It was a whirlwind romance and I can tell my daughter I literally saw her mother across a room and thought, ‘I have to be next to this woman.’”

A self-confessed “useless” shopper, Jackson gives his wife full credit for his current wardrobe. He is jewellery-free, apart from a wedding band and a gold signet “JJ” ring on his little finger (a present from his wife), and discovered tailored sweatsuits (by Stampd and Reigning Champ) in the pandemic.

“Jodie has influence in the way that a wonderful wife encourages you, through love, to dress well. She was like, ‘We’re going to throw away all the sweatpants from your past and I’m going to get you some that actually make you look like an adult male and you will still feel comfortable around the house,’ and I’m like, ‘What an amazing idea!’ Who knew you could get sweatsuits that actually look good on your body?”

Jackson’s style has evolved, he says, “from slovenly teen to it’s-nice-when-your-clothes-actually-fit-you”. The penny dropped after he auditioned for his former co-star Estevez, who was directing the 2006 Mr Robert Kennedy biopic Bobby. He said to me, ‘You only got this job because I know you. You came in here to play a very well-put together 1960s political operative and you’re wearing jeans and a hoodie.’

“I had to grow up a little bit. We are very much raised in Canada to never, ever show off, so it took me a while to recognise it’s OK to look good when you go out.”

Still, when you’ve grown up in front of the camera, “every pimple literally documented”, and lived (very successfully) to tell the tale, you can probably be forgiven for the odd fashion faux pas.

“I wore a silk Ascot to an event once in Paris and I still have nightmares about it,” he says. “I looked like Fred from Scooby Doo, but you live and learn.”

[noaltbruh]

Bucci gang comforting a reader having a panic attack

GIORNO:

-Giorno probably had one or two panic attacks himself when he was very young, his parents' constant neglect didn't exactly have a good influence on his mental health

-Because of that, Giorno is surprisingly calm during the whole thing, like he knows exactly what to do, and low-key, he does

-he'd hold your hands tight and look at you right in the eyes, saying that whatever is bothering you, the two of you can figure it out together later

-"Breath in, breath out. I'm not going anywhere, Y/n, I'm here for you"

-his tone of voice makes you feel safe, you know you can trust him to help you in this situation.

-he would even let you play with his hair, if it makes you feel better. Touching his soft, blonde curls gives you a strange sense of peace

-it doesn't take long for you to calm down, and you're once again left to wonder how Giorno seems so perfect in everything he does

BUCCIARATI:

-while Bucciarati has never experienced a panic attack personally, he knows quite a lot about the subject

-at first, he would be more distressed than Giorno, but it doesn't take long for him to catch up and look for a way to help you feel better

-He'd cook your favorite comfort food, hoping to distract you a little from whatever caused you to feel this way

-He'd want you to stay by his side the whole time, obviously. He'd never leave you alone in such a delicate state

-after the first time, he would always keep some chocolate bars for emergency, in case something like that were to happen again

-However, now he would be twice as careful to make sure not to put you in any situation that may cause a similar reaction in you

MISTA:

-Let's be honest: Mista is a really chill dude, there's no way he has ever had a panic attack

-he doesn't know almost anything about it, and the first time it happened to you, he thought you would have just stopped after a minute or two

-but when he realized you had no intention to stop, his expression immediately turned into one of concern, he almost looked more scared than you

-he isn't as good as Bruno or Giorno when it comes to comforting someone, but he'd still try to help you, he would even try to make you laugh, hoping you would have stopped crying

-"W-wanna hear a joke?" 'Mista, what the hell are you doing? Does it look like the time to joke around? Think about something, you idiot!'

-Needless to say, the pistols were going crazy too, they all have you little kisses hoping to cheer you up a little. Number 5 even started crying, he was so worried for you

-Eventually, somehow, you calmed down; Mista doesn't know how he managed to survive through all this himself

-But he learned his lesson, and made sure to consult A LOT of articles online to be prepared in case there was a second time

NARANCIA:

-Narancia's situation is...kind of weird, to say the last

-he's probably experienced a panic attack AT LEAST 3 times before joining the gang, but he wouldn't really know that's an actual thing

-when he saw you curled up on yourself, breathing heavily and with tears in your eyes, Narancia genuinely thought you were going to die

-he tried to call an ambulance for you, but you stopped him an ad managed to tell him among your sobs that you didn't need it

-he tried to ask you what to do to help, but he soon realized that he had to figure this out on his own

-he took all the snacks he could find in the kitchen and wrapped you in a blanked, hoping to calm you down even a little

-"See Y/n, n-no reason to be scared! I-I'm here, it's okay!"

-desperate, Narancia held you tight to himself, if this didn't work, he would have probably started crying too

-but, thank Goodness, your breathing started to go back to be more regular and eventually you stopped shivering

-you immediately explained to Narancia what a panic attack was, of course. You don't want to make best boy worry even more about you, do you?

FUGO:

-Due to all the pressure everyone put on Fugo during his childhood, it's safe to assume that he isn't new to the subject

-However, he doesn't exactly have a good way to handle the problem, to the point where he would just wait for it to pass naturally, acting like it was nothing serious

-but that wasn't something he was allowed to do when he realized you were going through the same exact thing as him

-even though he perfectly knows what's happening, he's just as clueless as Narancia when it comes to help you feel better

-he's too scared to even touch you, he thinks he's going to make you feel worse if he doesn't take 200 precautions

-he'd try with a simple "it's okay", but, of course, it didn't work

-like the situation wasn't bad enough, the amount of stress Fugo was feeling in that moment made him lose control over his stand, causing it to materialize into the room next to the boy

-ironically, Purple Haze was the one that saved the situation, disobeying his master's orders and hugging you tight from behind

-you didn't care if the virus could have potentially killed you if one of the stand's little spheres were to break, all you needed was some comfort, and that's what Purple haze was giving you

-Just like Mista, Fugo also searched for... ahem, more 'healthy ways' to handle the problem, relying on his Stand all the time probably wasn't the best option

ABBACCHIO:

-being the least "touchy-feeling" one out of the entire gang, he would probably just think that the concept of "panic attack" is simply stupid, even though I'm 100% sure he's had at least one in his life

-when it happened for the first time, Abbacchio almost tried to shrug it off like it was nothing serious, saying that you have no reason to be "that scared"

-but then...5, 10, heck, even 15 minutes later you were still there, drowning your head between your knees, shaking like a leaf in autumn

-That's when he finally understood that he couldn't keep on being a d**k about it and it was time to do something useful

-"O-oi...what the hell, Y/N? What's gotten into you all of a sudden?"

-he'd awkwardly try to pet you on the head, he genuinely has no idea of what is going on right now

-in the end, he just waits until the worst part ends and you're able to speak again

-well, that's definitely something the two of you will have to work on...

TRISH:

-Trish probably has never had a real panic attack, but she was extremely worried when she was about to meet with Diavolo in Venezia

-in the moment she realizes what's happening to you, she immediately calls out Spice Girl, hoping she would help her trying to think about something to resolve the situation

-there isn't really much she can do though, she's still a stand, a reflection of the user's soul, and if Trish has no idea what to do (especially since this doesn't involve fighting), Spice Girl is just as clueless

-she'd offer to cuddle with you a little, hoping that physical contact will make you feel better

-she doesn't get an answer, but it's still worth a shot, right?

-it...doesn't work out perfectly, but it obviously helped you feel better, even a little; you even managed to call out your own stand, so that Spice girl could participate too

-around half an hour later, it all went back to normal, and Trish promised to learn more about the subject to be more prepared for the next time

Yes, I know I could potentially write headcanons about characters from all the parts, but I just love the Bucci gang so much eheh.

Also, I have a wattpad profile where I'm currently writing my own Giorno x reader fanfic, I'd really appreciate it if you could check it out :)

[geewithluv]

Down The Hall

Pairing: Reader x Kim Taehyung

Word Count: 1.5k

Warning: stalker!Taehyung

Summary: Something's up with her neighbor down the hall...

A/N: I haven't written in a long while... if you read this I hope you like it.

-----

She’s decided there is something noticeably off about her neighbor down the hall. She couldn’t put a finger on it if she tried. And she had tried. Numerous times. In the various conversations with her various family members during routine phone calls. In the coffee shop conversations with friends that were too busy to actually dedicate more than a half-hour to hang out and in conversations with friends who weren’t too busy and sat on her couch to hear her recollect the strange behaviors of her neighbor down the hall.

Everyone who would listen had probably heard her mention this man.

And everyone said something along the lines of her being paranoid. That this was just “city living” and the small-town girl just wasn’t used to “normal city behavior”.

Something was off.

Maybe it was the fact that he always had to walk his dog whenever she left her apartment. Even if she knew for a fact that he had just walked the dog less than an hour prior.

Maybe it was that it took him an extremely long time to check his mailbox. The exact amount of time it took for her to walk into the building from work and make her way to the elevator when he would then rush to go up to the 4th floor with her.

Or maybe it was even the newly found knowledge that he was now friends with her good friend that helped her move into the building. The friend that had heard her moans and groans, complaints and grievances, regarding the man down the hall and the creepy feeling she gets when she thinks about the fact that he most certainly knows her daily routine.

That friend, that close friend, was now friends with her neighbor down the hall.

His name is Taehyung . As she’s learned from Jungkook who was surprised she didn’t know his name since he knew her name very well. Jungkook didn’t find this nearly as concerning as she did.

“He’s really nice!” Jungkook tried to convince her. She wasn’t buying it. In fact, she was more apprehensive about the fact that the man had now become a regular customer at the record shop Jungkook managed. Jungkook even mentioned that Taehyung had been going to a different shop much closer to the apartment complex but decided to branch out.

All of a sudden.

Jungkook didn’t find this odd. She did.

Taehyung finally introduced himself to her one day on the elevator back up to the 4th floor. She was surprised to find that he seemed fairly normal. That thought didn’t last long because she quickly remembered that the best serial killers and psychopaths seem normal. She convinced herself that he seemed normal because of the dog he offered for her to pet.

He told her that she could call the dog Tannie. He offered the ball of fluff as if he was a peace offering. As if Taehyung knew he creeped her out. As if he knew she really liked dogs. As if he knew it was a way into her heart. As if he had talked to Jungkook about her.

“We’ve been over this,” Jungkook said with a huff, “Taehyung isn’t some crazed murderer. You’ve gotta stop watching those Netflix documentaries. He’s super chill and I want you to hang out with him. I feel like I’m cheating on you.” He tried to explain his actions.

“You are cheating on me! I told you that he creeps me out and you befriended him!” She was very upset, Jungkook was one of her only friends in the city. One of the only people close enough to come to her rescue if something went wrong. And now he’s befriended her biggest fear. A man she is more cautious of than that one homeless man by the subway station who likes to sing creepy renditions of 90’s pop songs.

“It was hard not to befriend him. C’mon. If I like him he can’t be that bad. You’re just a little paranoid because of the move. That’s normal, I was too! But you’ve gotta get over it and then you, Taehyung, and I can all be friends. That sounds great, right?”

“Does it really mean this much to you?” She asked with a sigh, but she already knew the answer.

“Yes! It’d be great! We could bring Jimin and Yoongi around too! Some of the girls, even!  We’d all be super close and have movie nights or something!” Jungkook sounded too excited for this possibility for her to let him down. So she agreed. She agreed to hang out with Taehyung and Jungkook.

Jungkook insisted that they hang out at her apartment. Since two of the three of them lived in the same complex and Taehyung said his place was a mess even though it’s the bigger apartment. She begrudgingly agreed.

Jungkook and Taehyung seemed really close. Closer than she’d expect two people who’ve only met weeks ago to be. Jungkook made friends quickly… but this was very quick. Too quick.

Taehyung complimented her vinyl collection when he came in. Something she was proud of because it was a pricy habit that Jungkook fed into like she was but a duck in a pond and he was a man with too much bread.

Taehyung lingered around her furniture a little too much for her liking. Delicately touching the fabric of her sofa as he walked past. He practically studied her bookshelf. And when she finished cooking, with minimal help from Jungkook, he savored every bite so much that it reminded her of those ‘mindful eating’ exercises a friend had recommended for anxiety and she was certain his food would go cold before he finished.

He complimented her greatly on it. Kept mentioning how delicious it was and he was sure he hadn’t met anyone who cooked as well as she did that wasn’t a professional chef.

The compliments kept coming throughout the evening. On how well she’s decorated and her eye for color. Gradually the compliments moved from her musical tastes and her throw pillows to how nicely she was dressed.

Jungkook was a little tipsy and didn’t notice this shift. She almost didn’t notice either, he was so smooth with the way he slipped it into the conversation.

Eventually, midway through a card game, Jungkook stood up and said he was going to head home before he got too drunk to call an uber. Before he left he hugged her, telling her he was so happy she and Taehyung get along. She gifted him the remaining half bottle of wine and told him to call when he got home.

“Let me help you clean up.” Taehyung offered. It sounded like an offer but it was more of a demand. She allowed him, being a little too tired and a little too intoxicated to deny the help anyway. He even washed the dishes as she started to lose energy.

Eventually, she became so tired that after Jungkook called to let her know he was safe she didn’t protest when Taehyung hugged her before leaving. He thanked her for the wonderful night before he closed her door and allowed her to rest.

Only for a few minutes. 15 if she had been looking at the time as Taehyung had. He knocked on the door. He waited for movement, waited for her to open the door. She didn’t. She had passed out on the sofa.

Taehyung smiled as he opened the door. “Forgot my wallet.” He said, for good measure, just in case she wasn’t fully out. But she was completely out. Taehyung almost worried she was dead. He checked her neck for a pulse and let himself linger there longer than necessary just caressing her neck thinking of how beautiful her collarbones were. How wonderful her lips looked just slightly parted and stained red with wine.

She had barely even finished the full glass so Taehyung wondered if she was such a lightweight that she thought nothing of a glass of wine knocking her out.

She must not have. Just like she must not have noticed Taehyung taking a little too long bringing her a glass or even subtly urging her to drink.

It didn’t matter anymore. She was out cold on her sofa, beautifully laid out for him. He’d stay in her apartment if he could but he already had a setup at his own that called out her name.

Carefully, Taehyung scooped her into his arms as if he was afraid of breaking her. He hummed a soft melody as he carried her into his apartment, thankful for the apartment doors closing on their own.

Taehyung walked her into the second bedroom of his apartment and laid her out on the bed.  He strokes her hair softly, “I’ve waited so long for you.”

[potionsprefect]

Not One But Two

Pairings: Ethan Ramsey x Victoria Clarke

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: The baby scan throws them a little surprise

Rating: General Audiences

Category: Fluff

A/N: I wasn’t going to make this a series but after @queencarb asked if there was gonna be one, I couldn’t resist! Thank you girl for the inspiration ❤️

First part here

The morning sun was shining through the windows, lighting up everything in its path. The birds were chirping softly outside the window and inside the large master bedroom, a couple laid contently amongst the duvet.

“Do you reckon we could call in sick and just spend the day in bed?” Victoria asked.

A rich chuckle sounded from near her belly. Her husband had his head on her stomach, stroking her soft skin and pressing kisses to it every so often.

“We could, but then that would look really suspicious when we turn up for our scan.” Ethan replied.

“Who would ever question the Ramsey’s?”

“Anyone who wants to have their privileges revoked.” Ethan shrugged.

“One look from you and they’d be off running. I remember what it was like during my intern year.” Victoria laughed.

“All of them ran, apart from you.” Ethan said turning his face towards her.

“Not even scare mongering from the great Ethan Ramsey himself could make me run away from him.” Victoria smiled, running a hand through his hair.

“And I’m glad you didn’t.” Ethan moved further up her body to press a chaste kiss to her lips. “Because now we’re happily married and you’re growing our beautiful little baby.” Ethan caressed her slightly swollen stomach.

“I never realised how content you’ve become.” Victoria smiled.

“Being with the right woman will do that to a man.” Ethan smiled kissing Victoria, stroking her hair. “Pregnancy suits you.”

“You’re flattering me.”

“It’s not flattery if it’s true. Maybe you should become pregnant all the time.” Ethan ran his thumb across her lips.

“Are you saying I wasn’t well suited before?” Victoria teased.

“I’m saying pregnancy brings out the beauty in you. And you can’t argue with that.” Ethan replied.

“I’ll take your word for it.” Victoria said.

“You better Mrs Ramsey.”

“Of course Mr Ramsey.”

— — — — —

Since they found out she was pregnant, Ethan had limited Victoria’s tasks in the hospital. If there was a trauma, she was only allowed to treat the green and yellow tags. She was exempt from any x rays, scans and infectious patients and was allowed regular breaks.

Victoria had tried to tell Ethan she wasn’t made of glass and could still carry out her normal duties. They agreed to disagree on their opinions on traumas but came to an mutual agreement that Victoria could have regular breaks, particularly because her back and feet were constantly killing her.

“There you are Sienna.” Victoria said heading towards her friend.

“What’s up?”

“I need to run upstairs for something, could you send this to the lab for me?”

“No problem. Fancy lunch later on?”

“Sounds great. I’m sorry I’ve been a bit down lately.”

“You don’t need to apologise! We all have our low moments. Although for you I’m guessing there will be a lot of high ones soon.” Sienna smirked glancing at Victoria’s stomach.

“How did you...?”

“The signs were all there, although I properly suspected when I saw you dashing into the bathroom earlier.” Sienna chuckled.

Victoria stared eyes wide at her friend. Although her morning sickness was not as severe as she expected, she thought she had avoided anyone noticing. Apart from Ethan of course.

“How far along?” Sienna asked quietly, making sure no one was listening.

“I found out last week, I’ve got my appointment in 15 minutes.” Victoria smiled.

“Ahh! I’m so happy for you!” Sienna squealed giving Victoria a hug. “Don’t worry I won’t tell the others.”

“Thanks Si. I’ve gotta head upstairs.” Victoria replied heading off down the hall.

“Good luck!” Sienna smiled.

Victoria headed down the corridor and up to OB where she checked in and waited for her name to be called. She text Ethan telling her where she was but didn’t get a reply.

Another 15 minutes had passed and Ethan still hadn’t turned up. She tried texting him and even calling him but he didn’t pick up. Where was he?

“Victoria? Would you like to come through?” Janice Myers, head of OB called out to her with a smile.

Victoria took one last look down the corridor and then followed Janice into one of the exams rooms.

“So how have you been?” Janice asked as she took a seat at her desk whilst Victoria sat on the exam bed.

“Not too bad. The morning sickness isn’t as bad as I thought it would be. I’m not throwing up as often as I thought I would.” Victoria replied.

“It’s always different in every case, some women have it bad, others barely have any. I guess you’re lucky.” Janice replied.

“Very lucky.” Victoria chuckled.

“Is Ethan not with you?”

“There must be an emergency downstairs. I’ll find him later.”

“Ok let’s get started.”

Victoria lied down on the bed and lifted up her top as Janice put some of the gel on her stomach. She placed the wand gently to the gel and on the screen flickered a black and white image.

“There we go.” Janice smiled moving the screen so Victoria could see.

Victoria smiled at the screen, her eyes glistening with emotion. She could just make out the tiny figure.

“I’d say you’re about eight weeks, healthy size, everything looks good.” Janice smiled.

“That’s a relief. That’s all I could hope for.” Victoria said.

“Indeed.” Janice said looking at the screen. She suddenly furrowed her brows and looked at the screen more closely.

“What is it?” Victoria asked noticing the change in her demeanour.

“See for yourself.” Janice chuckled slightly pointing to the screen.

Victoria scanned the screen, looking for anything that would’ve caused Janice to take a second look. She then saw it, and her eyes widened in surprise.

“Is that...” Victoria trailed off.

“A second heartbeat.” Janice smiled.

Victoria stared at the tiny little heartbeat then darted her eyes back to the original one. “Wow.”

Janice laughed slightly. “I have to admit, I never believed Ethan would marry, but being the father of twins? Now that is something I can’t wait to see.”

“Double the trouble for the both of us.” Victoria laughed a little. “I thought twins meant the morning sickness would be worse.”

“It is usually but I guess you’re even luckier than you realise. Both babies are looking healthy and are at a decent size. I’ll print out some photos and a sheet of things to look out for over the next few weeks. Are you taking any vitamins?”

“No I was going to pick some up on my way home.”

“I’ll write you a prescription. That way you can avoid any unwanted looks or gossip.” Janice smiled.

“Thank you.” Victoria smiled back.

Victoria headed out the room and back downstairs still shocked from the news that she was having twins. Ethan is going to kick himself that he missed that she thought.

By the end of the year, there wouldn’t be just one baby in their lives, there would be two. The thought of that made her feel giddy with excitement.

Victoria scanned the corridors trying to spot her husband. He wasn’t in any of the filled rooms nor was he by the nurses station. Victoria then decided to head to his office and wait for him there. She fired a quick text to Sienna.

Rain check on lunch? Need to tell Ethan something x

Sienna immediately replied:

No worries, hope the appointment went ok. Just dealt with a massive trauma so would’ve been delayed anyway! X

Victoria headed into Ethan’s office and sat down in his chair. She text Ethan telling him where she was and waited.

Her eyes scanned the room, his office was bare with only a few additions over the years. On his desk was a picture of them at their wedding, smiling at each other as they did their first dance. Next to it was a single photo of Victoria, grinning as she held a drink in her hand.

Victoria smiled at the photos, knowing Ethan would soon be adding a third photo to the collection. Or possibly a fourth if he wanted one photo of each baby.

The sound of the door opening and closing made her look up and there stood Ethan, looking panicked and angry with himself.

“Vic I am so sorry. We had a major trauma come in and when I thought it was over, they just kept rolling in.” Ethan said breathlessly making his way over to her and kissing her forehead as she stood up.

“Ethan it’s fine. I know how stressful it can be working in the ER. It’s ok.” Victoria ran her fingers across the lines of his face, trying to relive some of the tension he was feeling.

“But I missed the scan! Was everything ok?”

“You might want to sit down.” Victoria directed him to the chair. If he heard the news she had to share standing up, he’d probably faint.

“What is it? Is everything ok?” Ethan asked looking up at her.

“See for yourself.” Victoria reached into her pocket and pulled out the scan. She handed it to Ethan.

Ethan directed his eyes between the scan and Victoria unsure what to say. He could feel his heart pounding - whether it was the adrenaline from treating over 30 casualties or from staring at the scan he didn’t know.

Twins.

“Ethan?” Victoria’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

“This is...” Ethan trailed off.

“Unexpected?”

“I was going to say amazing.” Ethan smiled.

“That’s not the reaction I had when I first saw them.” Victoria laughed a little. “Double the trouble for us.”

“Even when they’re on their third detention in a week.” Ethan chuckled as he stood up and wrapped his arms around her.

Victoria sighed against his chest as Ethan’s hands ran up and down her back.

“Looks like we’re going to have to buy double of everything.” Victoria looked up at him.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Ethan pulled her in for a kiss, lingering for a few moments before he then pressed a loving kiss to her stomach.

— — — — —

Labour fic up next!

Hope you enjoy this!

Tag list: @ohchoices @openheartfan @queencarb @genevievemd @iemcpbchoices @choicesaddict5 @schnitzelbutterfingers @alina-yol-ramsey @i-bloody-love-drake-walker

[detectivesvu]

Another Round

—

Rafael Barba x Fem. Reader

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 2,454

“Moral of the story, take a chance in life. You never know what might happen.”

—

The bar was rather uninhabited compared to usual. Even for a Wednesday night the crowd was scarce and things were quiet. The smell of liquor and bodily fragrances wasn’t as thick in the air as it normally was. There were a few patrons seated at the various booths around the establishment. Most of them were office coworkers attempting to blow off some steam to ensure that they could push through to Friday where they could look forward to a couple of days off before having to prepare to do it all again the next week. 

There were only two customers actually sitting at the bar. One was an older woman that you had the pleasure of seeing every Wednesday evening for about an hour or two. She was a lovely lady who worked in accounting at a private establishment. She had actually found the bar you bartended at by accident. She had been caught in a torrential downpour and ducked into the nearest building to let the rain pass. That building just so happened to be your little bar that you offered as a temporary home to those who needed it. You convinced her to at least stick around for a drink, to which she ordered a dry martini. Ever since that day, she now came every week. She was convinced that you made the best dry martini (with extra olives) in the whole city. In a general sense, she was great company and an even better tipper.

“Wonderful as usual, [Y/N],” She called to you from the opposite side of the bar; “I’ll see you next time!”

She tapped the money she had left on the bar to make sure that you noted to take your tip. You flashed her your warmest and most genuine smile, waving at her once she made it to the door;

“Thanks, see you later!” You called back. 

Once she left, you were sure to clean off the bar where she sat, taking your tip, and setting her empty martini glass aside to be washed after hours. That left the only other person sitting at the bar. You had seen him about three times over the last few weeks and not once had he seemed interested in conversing with you. You had impeccable customer service as well as having a talent for reading people. You knew nothing about him, not even his name. However, you knew that whatever he did for a living was a killer on his mental health and overall being. Every time he had come in during your shift, he looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He would sit in the same seat and very quietly order his usual drink of choice: a glass of scotch served straight. 

He usually would nurse his first drink for a little while before eventually loosening his tie and pulling some sort of work out of his bag. You were never nosy enough to try and figure out what it was, but it seemed to be important based off of the way he usually never took his eyes off of it. Most people would just look at him as being busy, but you looked deeper and identified that he was lonely. 

You knew that some people weren’t as talkative as others. There was a portion of bar-goers that would rather order their drink and not say a single word the entire time. As a bartender, you craved to talk to those people to give your best job performance. As a good hearted human being, you craved to talk to those people because you knew that they desperately needed to. You wanted to be a listening ear to anyone who needed it. No questions asked or judgements given.

You had a rag in one hand and a highball glass in the other as you gently stood in front of the man. He was extremely focused in on whatever he was working on, so you softly spoke to get his attention and not break his stride;

“Can I get you another scotch, sir?” You asked.

A little startled, his head snapped up and his eyes trained on you. He processed your question before sighing and rubbing his forehead stressfully. He leaned back into his chair and set his shiny pen down next to his papers. Poor guy. He was beat.

“Yes, please.” He replied simply.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” You apologized sincerely, but with a slight smile. 

You turned to the array of bottles behind you, selecting the same bottle of scotch you had served him before. He chuckled at your statement and exhaled deeply;

“No, no. Don’t be sorry. I got a little lost there for a minute.” He said briefly motioning towards his work. 

You refilled his glass, returned the bottle to its proper place, and leaned forward against the bar just a little ways off to the side as he began to sip his second drink of the night. 

“I can see that. You always seem to bring work to the place where work is supposed to be left behind.” You astutely noted.

He shrugged and cocked his head to the side shortly;

“You’re observant. I like that.” He responded rather coyly. 

Now it was your turn to shrug;

“It’s in the job description,” You joked; “This might make me a bad bartender, but I’ve seen you in here more than once and never caught your name.” 

He smiled tenderly. It was now that you realized just how charming he was when he wasn’t tied down to his paperwork. 

“Rafael Barba. You’re [Y/N], right?” He introduced himself.

You nodded, but your head was hard at work. That name sounded so familiar. Where had you heard that name? Surely you hadn’t ever met him outside of work. Then it hit you.

“Barba...oh, you’re the prosecutor on the Lindsey Darien case!” You announced.

His smile changed into a surprised expression;

“I am. Not many people remember my name,” He admitted; “Usually I’m just the lawyer that people happened to catch on the morning news.”

You laughed gingerly at that. You couldn’t even imagine being a criminal prosecutor. It all made sense now. The late night arrival at the bar, the tense posture, the constant attention being on his work. He might as well have the weight of the world on him. It was no wonder he always looks so uptight. You couldn’t comprehend the things he probably saw everyday. The stories he had to hear on the regular would keep you up at night for weeks. You were just fine slinging bottles and cleaning up crushed pretzels off of the floor. 

“That case is...an intense one, yeah?” You questioned, being careful not to pry.

He shot you a look that read ‘finally someone gets it’ and ‘you don’t even know the half of it’. You knew he couldn’t tell you any specifics and honestly you didn’t want to know. Again, you were behind a bar for a reason. You weren’t cut out for that kind of work. 

“To say the least. One of the hardest of my career.” He confessed, finishing off his drink.

You wondered if there was anyone outside of work that he was able to talk to about his job. You hoped he wasn’t confined to only speaking to people involved with the cases he dealt with. That was a lot of bottled up feelings to carry around all the time. 

“Well, in that case,” You proclaimed; “The next one’s on me.”

You refilled his glass once more, knowing this would be his last one for the night. He never drank more than three. He thanked you and proposed a new topic, wanting to continue speaking with you. He was beginning to find himself intrigued by you. He had met lots of bartenders in his life, but none of them seemed to have the same kind of energy that you did. He found it refreshing.

“What about you? I bet you’ve got some stories.” He remarked.

Oh, you definitely had stories. You learned very quickly that bartending was going to allow you to see the absolute best and worst of people. In a weird way, that’s what made your job so beautiful to you. It was a relief to know that it was okay to not be your best all the time.

“Sure I do. All bartenders do,” You agreed; “Are you asking for the craziest, funniest, or scariest thing I’ve ever encountered, counselor?”

He groaned with a modest guttural sound;

“Please. Call me Rafael. I don’t need my favorite bartender calling me by my job title too,” He said with a smirk; “But how about your favorite story?”

You felt your cheeks get hot at his nonchalant compliment. Many of your regulars were adamant about you being their preferred bar technician, but for some reason it felt different coming from Rafael. Something strange was brewing inside you and you could feel it in your chest...almost like a weird flutter. He was feeling it too, but he brushed it off as the alcohol settling in. 

“My favorite story...” You repeated; “Well, I do have one in particular.” You declared.

He was very tuned in now. He was not the same man you had just been in contact with when he first walked in. 

“I’ve been at this bar for a long time. Like, almost 15 years. I’ve had a lot of regulars come and go,” You began; “I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve forgotten a good many of them. But there’s this one guy that I’ll never forget.”

Rafael was watching you from over the rim of his glass, sipping slowly to savor his drink. He wasn’t sure where this was going yet.

“He came in every week when I was working and each time he looked more defeated than the last. After he had been coming for awhile, I finally asked him what was going on in his life,” You recalled; “It turned out that there was this woman that he had been friends with since elementary school. He was head over heels for her and always had been.”

You smiled brightly as you continued telling the story. It still gave you chills to this day;

“He was worried because he didn’t want her to reject him. He didn’t want to ruin their friendship. They were both getting close to their forties and he had convinced himself it was too late to get married and start a family. On top of that, he was scared that if they did get together then he’d always regret the times they could’ve had together but didn’t because he waited too long,” You told; “I told him that there was a reason she was still in his life. There was a reason that she never committed to anybody else. They had been tip-toeing around one another for decades. I knew they were meant to be together.”

Rafael was an extremely good listener. He wasn’t one to overly enjoy cheesy romantic stories, but this one was awfully captivating. For the first time in weeks, he wasn’t thinking about work.

“We talked for a long time, up until closing time. I convinced him to go for it. I told him that it wasn’t worth never taking his chance and then always wondering what could’ve been. The next time I saw him, he had a woman with him. Sure enough, it was her,” You recounted; “Turns out, they had been waiting on the other to make a move. They’ve been married for...13 years now.” You said doing the math in your head.

Rafael’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened. Turns out you were quite the persuasive speaker.

“They’ve got two kids. One biological and one adopted. Even after they got together, he didn’t stop coming here every week. She would just always come with him.” You continued.

He leaned his face into his hand. He was positively amazed.

“Wow. Do they still come around?” He asked curiously.

You shook your head;

���Sadly, no. They moved out west a couple of years ago. Although, he still has family here so anytime he visits the city he’ll come by. So we somewhat keep in touch,” You answered; “Every time I see him, he thanks me for giving him a push. He never would’ve taken a chance if I hadn’t.” 

You took Rafael’s finished glass from the bar counter, setting it aside as well. He was speechless.

“Moral of the story, take a chance in life. You never know what might happen.” You advised.

“I’ll say. That’s incredible.” He exclaimed. 

You smiled, happy that he thought so.

“Does that satisfy your story telling request?” You asked.

“Very much so. I appreciate it.” He expressed his gratitude.

Just as you were about to offer him a different story, his cell phone rang. Oh, well. There was always next Wednesday. He fished his phone from his pants’ pocket, read the caller ID, and groaned. He began packing his things up and you took that as he had to leave;

“Duty calls?” You asked.

“Yep. I’m sorry to cut this short.” He apologized,

“No worries. You know where to find me. It was nice to finally talk with you.” You said sweetly. 

He smiled a bright, happy smile. It warmed your heart.

“You too. I’ll see you next week for sure.” He returned the sentiment.

He was in a rush to get back to his office, but you ducked under the bar to grab one of your business cards that had your number on it. With all this talk about taking chances, you found it appropriate to take one yourself. In the split seconds it took you to grab a card, he had already dashed out of the bar and down the street. You laughed in amusement, shoving the card in your pocket. You saw that he had also left a healthy tip, but with a small piece of paper on it as well. 

Looks like you weren’t the only one wanting to take chances tonight.

He had left his office phone number as well as his cell phone number. With a small note that read; 

Consider this as me taking a chance of my own. Call me sometime. 

You grinned, making sure you didn’t lose the piece of paper. You wondered how he was able to scribble out a note and make it out of the bar in the few short moments that you weren’t paying attention. But it didn’t really matter. You had a new favorite customer.

One that was going to have a bigger impact on your life than you would ever dream of.

[justatiredpotato]

Set Me Free | Chapter 4

Chapter List

Pairing: hybrid!Yoongi x human!reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, coffee shop AU, hybrid AU

Word Count: Chapter: 5,000~  Total: 40,000~

Updates daily at 10pm MST

Warnings: anxiety, panic attacks, implied abuse and sexual exploitation

Summary: Yoongi, a cat hybrid, has been hurt time and time again by a world that would have him believe he’s worthless. One day he finds himself in your protective care, and gets a new family to boot. But is it really that easy to escape the past and embrace a new beginning?

Author’s Note: In this fic the reader’s name is Yeoji

You woke up the next morning delightfully warm. You shifted to tuck your nose back under the edge of the blanket, but found you were curling into someone’s back instead. Startled, you pushed yourself up on one elbow and blinked at the figure tucked against you. Your arm was wrapped around Yoongi’s waist, legs tangled together. You blushed and quickly detached yourself from him. He let out an almost childlike whimper and turned to try and pull you close again, but you tucked the blankets around him and moved out of his reach. How could you invade his space like that? You must’ve drank too much.

The air was cold even through your sweats as you climbed out of bed. It was still early morning. You never slept soundly when you drank. Figuring you wouldn’t be getting much more rest if you tried to go back to sleep, you started getting ready for the day. You quietly pulled out a simple fitted black dress and a baggy cardigan, creeping into the bathroom to slip them on over a pair of knit tights. After grabbing your work shoes you exited the bedroom, closing the door as quietly as you could so as not to wake a still sleeping Yoongi. The shop opened in about two hours, so you figured you could get some of the office work done before then.

You settled on the couch with your laptop and a notebook that held your accounts information, spending about a half hour making sure everything was balanced properly. You decided to spend the rest of the time reviewing your inventory and preparing the order for your supplier that month. As you stood to move to the kitchen, the bedroom door creaked open. A bleary-eyed Yoongi emerged, hair sticking up in all directions, partially obscuring his ears.

“Where’d you go?” he croaked, voice hoarse from crying the evening before. “Why didn’t you stay?” His eyes widened as he took you in, already in your work attire.

“Am I late?” he asked, suddenly awake.

“No! No, you’re off today.”

“Really? Why? I can work,” he said, almost sounding hurt.

“I have Jimin coming in today, don’t worry. Why don’t you work on your music today?”

He nodded, pondering. He seemed to acknowledge that it would be nice having some time to himself after yesterday's incident. You didn’t mention the fact that you were trying to hold off a bit longer before introducing him to the other boys. They were a bit energetic for Yoongi at the moment. You feared that Jimin’s affectionate nature would stress him out.

“Okay, well call me if it gets crowded. I can get ready and come out,” he eventually said.

“Thanks.” You smiled, walking over to ruffle his hair. “But don’t worry, this is my job.”

He mumbled some kind of acknowledgement, ducking his head but also pushing into your hand so you scratched his ears some more. 

“Are you coming back here for lunch?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’ll eat with you. I usually go at two, can you wait that long?” He nodded. “Alright, I’ll be back then.” You turned and headed out front as he grabbed his bag and the bundle of papers you’d salvaged.

“Ah!” you exclaimed, turning on your heel. He jumped, looking at you questioningly. You hurried over to the bookshelf and pulled a notebook off of it. “Use this,” you offered, holding it out to Yoongi.

“Thanks,” he said, flipping through it and giving you a gummy grin. You suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to curl up next to him and ask him about his music. It felt like an actual tug at your heart, wanting to know the thoughts and feelings that he’d put to paper. You pushed the thought away, pulling your laptop closer to your chest.

“You’re welcome,” you said, turning to continue your way out front.

You went over inventory, finishing up about a half hour before opening. The order could be written up that night or the next morning so it could go out on Friday. You put your laptop aside and went out to the counter, making your regular coffee and Yoongi’s. You also made breakfast for the two of you.

He glanced up when you entered the room. He hadn’t moved from his spot on the couch. He flashed a smile, pulling one side of his headphones off his ear.

“Thanks!” he said, already going for a sip of his coffee.

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you at lunch,” you said, already turning to leave.

“You aren’t staying for breakfast?” he asked a little sadly.

“I have to go let Jimin in and open,” you answered over your shoulder. “But it’ll be lunchtime soon. And maybe you can show me some of your music after I finish up tonight?” you asked hopefully.

“Sure,” he replied, running a hand through his hair and smoothing over his ears.

Jimin was already waiting outside when you returned to the cafe. He waved cheerfully as you jogged to unlock the door for him.

“Noona!” He tumbled into your arms as soon as the door was open. You laughed, squeezing him tight and rocking side-to-side with the hug.

“How’s my Chim Chim this morning?” you asked, burying your face in his hair as he held you. To anyone else you might’ve looked like a couple, but Jimin just really liked holding people and being held, always had. It seemed to help him heal when he first arrived at Jin’s shelter, and you had been one of the first people he grew close to.

“I’m good, I missed you though!” he answered, finally pulling away a little. “You spent the whole weekend with your new kitty friend!” he pouted.

“We had a few things to do so he could settle in.” You laughed at his obvious jealousy. As excited as he was about another cat hybrid in the family, you knew he’d be jealous too.

“Is that why you smell like him? Because it smells like you’ve been all over each other,” he said, raising an eyebrow at you. You chuckled awkwardly pushing him away and rolling your eyes.

“We’re staying in the same tiny two room apartment. And I gave him my bed the first day, so that’s probably why.”

Jimin nodded dubiously, slipping past you and inside. He headed to the kitchen to put his backpack away while you locked the door so you could finish preparing for the day. Jimin took down the chairs and straightened the tables while you made him a coffee.

“You hungry?” you asked as you put the finishing touch on his mocha.

“Nah, I ate with Tae before I left.” He came back to the counter, accepted the beverage gratefully and took a sip.

“How’s he doing at the shelter?” you asked as you straightened cups and checked the register.

“He seems to like it. There are… hard parts of the job. But I can tell he feels good about helping people like he is there.” A sad smile flickered over his face. “He’s really strong, you know? Staying there, seeing all those things.”

You put an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. “You know there’s nothing wrong with you choosing to do something else? Not everyone is suited to a job like that,” you said gently. “I don’t think I could do it.”

“But you are doing it!” he said confidently. “With your new kitty friend. You’re totally helping him!”

You laughed, releasing him to go unlock the door. “He’s not ‘my new kitty friend.’ His name is Yoongi. Yoongi-hyung, to you,” you scolded. There was no real firmness in your tone though.

“Another hyung?” Jimin whined. “Man, I wanted someone to boss aro- I mean take care of.” He seemed pleased with his joke.

“Chim,” you turned your best older-sister-look on him. “Play nice.”

He pouted again. “I’m always nice!” he argued, but you could hear the barely-suppressed giggle in his voice. “When can I meet him?”

“I’m not sure yet. Whenever he’s ready, I guess.”

Jimin nodded understandingly. 

The morning passed relatively slowly. The festival only made things slightly more busy than any other Wednesday. Around one, you ran back to your house to make Jimin lunch and brought it back out front for him. You made him eat in the kitchen. He complained, but you explained that Yoongi was working back in your apartment and you didn’t want to interrupt him.

You slipped away for your own lunch a little after two. Jimin was clearly miffed that you were allowed to disrupt Yoongi’s work. But the sulking you’d have to endure was all worth it when Yoongi’s face lit up at your arrival. He already had stuff out to make sandwiches, slicing up tomatoes and cheese.

“I’m not a great cook, but I figured I could make this for you,” he said sheepishly, gesturing to the sandwich that was already made on the counter next to him. You grinned, running over to wrap him in a side-hug. Once he finished his sandwich you settled at the table to eat. Your break seemed to be gone in a blink as you chatted about what Yoongi had been working on (he said it was a secret), and you told him about your latest dumb customer (this Karen who’d come in demanding a fat-free breve, claiming she got one at Barstucks all the time). His laugh gave you this fluttering in your stomach, leaving a warm and cozy feeling that you chose not to read into. 

You glanced up at the clock, cursing under your breath. You stood quickly, the chair scraping a bit on the floor. You’d taken an extra 15 minutes.

“I’ve gotta go, Yoongi,” you said, already heading for the door. He hurried after you, catching your sleeve and wrapping you in a quick hug, so light you barely processed it had happened.

“I’ll show you some of my lyrics tonight,” he said. He waved you off as if you weren’t just going out to the front part of the building. You waved back, chuckling at the silliness of it.

When you returned to the front counter, Jimin fixed you with a questioning look, eyes sharp.

“Yeah, he’s totally not glued to you,” he said with a sniff. He rolled his eyes, laughing as he no doubt smelled Yoongi on your sweater from the hug a moment before. “You’re so whipped.”

You grumbled but didn’t argue, knowing he would only take a stronger denial as confirmation. You weren’t trying to have him give the other boys the wrong idea. You would never take advantage of Yoongi by trying anything with him. A customer mercifully pulled you from your ethical quandaries about relationships with dependent hybrids.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

By the time the last customer left and you and Jimin started cleaning up, you were eager to go check on Yoongi.

“You can go, Noona. I’ll finish up here,” Jimin offered.

“What? Why? I can help you finish up.”

“Just go see him. I’m sure he’s been waiting for you since the second you left anyway.” He snickered, eyes scrunching up with his smile.

You blushed, cursing hybrid noses and their ability to see right through people. You turned your back on him, energetically scrubbing at the counter. “Don’t be silly. If anything he’s waiting for dinner.”

“Well then you better not keep him waiting. Jin-hyung said he’s way skinny,” Jimin said.

You turned back to him, brows raised. “Jin told you about Yoongi?”

“Just a little. He said we should all help you so he can get better.” Jimin was already at your back, gently guiding you toward the kitchen. He pushed you through the door, toward your apartment. “Go take care of your boyfriend. I’ll lock up before I go.”

The kitchen door thudded shut behind you as he went back to cleaning up. If your face wasn’t red before it certainly was now. You took a second, hoping the embarrassment would fade along with the color in your cheeks, before continuing into the apartment. You were certainly surprised by what greeted you.

“Yoongi…?” you called, noting the set table with a couple dishes of food already on it. You started toward the kitchen just as Yoongi’s head popped up from behind the island, making you jump.

“You’re back!” He smiled nervously at you, a couple of glasses in his hand.

“What’s all this?” You reached the table and looked over the spread: spaghetti with meatballs, garlic bread, and a shockingly pretty salad.

“Ah, this?” he said, as if you might be talking about something else. “I just figured that since you were working all day I could do something around the house. I cleaned a bit, but I thought it might be nice if you didn’t have to make dinner. I hope that’s okay.”

“Okay? This is amazing!” You passed the table in favor of going and wrapping Yoongi in a tight hug. “I haven’t had someone make dinner for me in a long time! If I ever let Namjoon cook he’d burn down the house.” You felt Yoongi’s chuckle rumble in his chest, a faint rumble of a purr already starting as well.

“Well, I didn’t burn anything. I just hope it tastes alright.” He pulled away and led you over to the table. “I tried to do it just like the video, so I think it isn’t bad.”

“I’m sure it’s delicious!” You took your seat and watched as Yoongi returned to the kitchen for the glasses he’d been getting.

“The guy on Viewtube said wine goes with this. Does that sound good?”

“Sure! Whatever the chef recommends.” You eyed the food, and noted that Yoongi had even put on music in the background. Soft piano music played from his laptop on the counter. Yoongi grabbed the bottle of wine out of the fridge—which happened to be the only wine you had—and joined you at the table. He removed the cork and poured you each a glass, which you smiled and took.

You weren’t a big wine fan in all honesty. The bottle was just the remainder of a bottle Jimin had brought over a while ago. But you took a sip anyway, wanting to cooperate with what he’d prepared. Yoongi took the plate in front of you and started to serve the food, but you reached out to stop him.

“You don’t have to, I can get it myself,” you said.

“It’s okay, I want to do it.” His gummy smile made you sit back down. You smiled as he spun the pasta, something he must’ve picked up from the Viewtube tutorial. He set your plate in front of you with a hint of a proud smile, then made a plate for himself. 

You glanced at him to find he was watching expectantly, clearly wanting to see your reaction. So you spun your noodles and took a bite. Your eyebrows rose as you looked at him, chewing for a moment.

“Edible?” he asked.

“Very edible. Delicious actually!”

He beamed at the praise, taking a bit himself. He gave a thoughtful hum, considering for a moment. “Not bad. I think the sauce should be thicker though? The guy in the video’s sauce was definitely thicker.”

“Maybe you can tweak the recipe a bit to get it just how you like it.” You smiled at him encouragingly. “I think you have real talent for this, Yoon.”

“Thanks, noona. Maybe I’ll try something new my next day off.”

“That sounds great. I appreciate this so much, truly.” You ate in pleasant silence for a moment before a thought struck you. “Did you get to work on your music today? I hope you didn’t just do housework.”

“Yeah, I got some stuff done. I can show you some tracks I’ve made after dinner, if you’re interested.”

“I would love that!”

“Actually… This is something I made.”

You blinked at him, not quite getting it. “This?”

“Yeah, the piano music. It’s all my stuff.” He nodded towards his beat up laptop, still playing soft melodies from the counter.

“All these songs have been yours?” 

He nodded, avoiding your gaze. “Yeah. I mean, none of them are finished or anything. I don’t really have the tools I need to make a polished track. These ones don’t even have lyrics yet. And I don’t know any vocalists to do the melody. But I thought they would be good enough for backgr-”

“Yoongi.” You interrupted his ramble. “They’re beautiful. All of them. I had no idea you wrote stuff like this.”

The way you looked at him, truly amazed, made him shift in his seat. He didn’t know what to do with a compliment to his work, which was so dear to him. He cleared his throat before he spoke, not wanting to sound too... He didn’t even know what. “Thanks,” he finally said before quickly returning to his meal. 

Once you’d both finished dinner you helped him clear the table and do the dishes. As you put the last plate in the cupboard you glanced at him expectantly. He snorted, grabbing his laptop and heading to the living room. You smiled and hurried after him. He opened his laptop, and seemed to steel himself, before turning to you.

“Now remember, these aren’t finished or polished or anything. I don’t have the tools or the skill to really make these good so don’t-”

“Yoongi,” you whined. “Stop selling yourself short. I’ve heard you perform. You’re really talented. And the songs you played during dinner? Amazing. So stop dissing yourself!”

Yoongi’s serious expression turned into a smirk. “Dissing myself?” The smirk turned into a grin, and you couldn’t help but start laughing. Any nerves he felt about showing you his work faded into the background as he laughed with you. Once you caught your breath, he played the first song he wanted to show you. You bopped along to a high energy club beat, then an intense diss track. Yoongi could spit rap so fast you almost couldn’t keep up, yet every word was clear. You glanced up at him as he focused on the computer screen, realizing how truly talented he was. A slightly slower tune with a driving beat behind it came on, something in the realm of a sexy slow-jam. Your eyebrows shot up, face heating along with the whole room as you listened. You weren’t expecting his lyrics to be so… bold.

The song ended and Yoongi clicked around a bit, glancing at you and noting your expression. “What did you think?” He was clearly nervous, but also proud of his work.

You smiled at him, trying to school your expression. If he noticed your flustered state, he was kind enough not to comment. “I would definitely dance to that. Or buy tickets to that concert.”

He grinned a gummy smile, a laugh escaping him. “I don’t think we’re anywhere near that yet. But I appreciate the thought.” He looked back at the screen, queuing up something else. “Okay, this one is a bit different than the other stuff. It’s not as… up as the other stuff. But I wanted to try writing something real. I don’t know if it’s any good, so tell me what you think.” He pressed play.

A soft piano melody began, and you quickly recognized it as something he’d played at dinner. But it quickly became clear this was a newer version of the piece as a base synth came in. After a moment of piano, Yoongi’s lyrics began. His voice was more familiar as the Yoongi you knew, not the cocky club persona from the other songs. 

As you listened you felt your heart clench with every word. This wasn’t a song, it was a story. His story. He told you about moments, flashes of love and joy, broken and torn away by loss and violence. His voice strained, trying not to break as he told of greed and hate and finally, emptiness. When so much pain builds up that you are hollow. With nothing left to push you forward, you only need the tiniest push to send you over the edge and into oblivion.

You sat for a moment, looking at the coffee table in front of you but your mind was far away. Yoongi wrapped an arm around your shoulder and you looked up at him. His eyes were wide with worry.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, scanning your face before wiping at it with the sleeve of his sweater. You hadn’t realized you were crying. You didn’t answer him, instead you pulled him into a tight hug. He seemed to understand because he didn’t press you further. The two of you stayed like that for quite a while.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

It was just you and Jimin again on Thursday. Business was picking up as the weekend approached, so you were kept busy with customers almost constantly throughout the day. At noon you ran back to check on Yoongi, but you didn’t even have time to take a real lunch.

Mid-afternoon there was a bit of a lull. You had just slipped back into the kitchen to take a breath and drink the coffee you’d made yourself when a customer out front caught your attention.

“Is your owner here?” the man asked. His voice wasn’t very deep, but his tone was imposing, almost threatening.

“I beg your pardon?” Jimin responded politely.

“Your owner. I want to speak to them.”

“You mean the shop owner?” The man must’ve nodded because Jimin called for you a second later. You came out of the kitchen and looked over the man in question.

He was average height, but stocky. The suit he wore was probably expensive, and you could see a fine gold chain peeking out of the unbuttoned collar of his shirt. You glanced up to meet his eye and were surprised to find a generally handsome face. A tattoo crept out from under his collar, under his jaw, and up behind his ear. He looked you over in return, mouth curving into a smile, but it had no warmth behind it. Actually, it almost sent a shudder through you.

“Are you the owner?” he asked.

“I am. How can I help you?”

“I’m looking for a lost hybrid. A client of mine mentioned she saw him here?”

You frowned, glancing at Jimin but making sure your unease didn’t cross your face. “A hybrid? I can’t think who you’d be talking about. Maybe he came in with a customer?”

“No, she said he was working here.” The man dug in his pocket and pulled out his phone. “This one, a cat. Name’s Suga, but he calls himself Yoongi sometimes,” he said, turning the phone to show you. The image you saw made your stomach drop. The photo was dimly lit by pink and purple neon lights, but you still easily recognized the boy in the photo. It was Yoongi, curled up on the floor against a couch. He was in just a thin t-shirt and underwear, obviously trying to avoid the camera. You schooled your expression before meeting the man's eyes again, feeling nauseous.

“I can’t say I’ve seen him. My friend here is a cat hybrid, so maybe she mistook him for this guy?” You glanced at Jimin, who nodded. He looked uncomfortable, probably sensing your anxiety.

The man sneered. “Believe me, she wouldn’t mistake this kid for any other kitty.”

You cringed internally but put on a polite, apologetic smile. “Well, I’m sorry we can’t be of more help.”

“Oh don’t worry. I’ll check in with the local patrol station. You know how the police have been cracking down on strays. When they find him they’ll get him right back to me.” You nodded tightly at him, still trying to keep a smile. “Let me know if you see him,” he said, pushing a business card across the counter to you. The name on it was Kwon Hyunjoong. You nodded and the man bid you farewell, You watched until he exited the shop and the door settled shut behind him. 

You turned to Jimin. “Call Jin and Namjoon,” you said, already moving back to the apartment. You burst through the door, startling Yoongi from his place at the kitchen table. He pulled his headphones off and stood, walking to meet you by the door.

“Hey, what’s going on?” His brows were furrowed as he looked you over. “What’s wrong?” He placed his hands on your shoulders and that was when you realized you were shaking. You looked at him, panic in your eyes.

“There was a guy looking for you,” you blurted. You took a deep breath, but it ended up more of a sob. You couldn’t seem to catch your breath. “He had a picture of you. And he’s going to the police. He said they’ll find you and take you back to him and I said I hadn’t seen you but…”

Yoongi stopped you from saying any more, pulling you into his chest and stroking your hair.

“Woah, woah. Slow down,” he said. He was trying to sooth you but you could feel how he’d begun shaking as well, muscles tense as you clutched his shirt. “He doesn’t know I’m here right? And you said you hadn’t seen me.”

“That woman. That disgusting b**** told them she saw you. That you were working here. Yoongi, do they have papers? Can they take you? Oh god, even if they don’t I’m not sure what I can do. What if I can’t protect you? I promised I’d keep you safe and now I- I-” You dissolved into gasping sobs, imagining the police coming and dragging Yoongi out of your home. If they had evidence that they ‘owned’ him, or even had in the past, there’d be nothing you could do. Most of the police didn’t care, and you had no legal right to protect him. “I have to protect you,” you cried. You held him so tightly he winced a little, but he just held you closer.

Your sobs had quieted a bit and you were catching your breath when a knock came on the apartment door. Yoongi carefully disengaged from your arms and had you sit on the couch while he went to get the door. He glanced through the peep-hole before opening it to reveal Jin and Namjoon, along with Jungkook. Namjoon surveyed the older man, who was shaking, eyes puffy and watery. Then he glanced over Yoongi’s shoulder and spotted you curled up on the couch, trembling. He hurried past Yoongi and over to you, the others trailing behind him. You looked up at him as he crouched in front of you.

“Joon…” you whimpered weakly. He pulled you into his arms without a word. You started crying again, sobs renewed when you glanced up to see Jungkook with his arm around a terrified Yoongi. “You have to help me Joon. We have to keep him safe. We can’t let them take him.”

Namjoon glanced up at Jin, before gently pulling away from you. “Can you tell us what’s going on? Jimin only explained a little on the phone.” You nodded, sniffling and taking a shaky breath.

“Jungkook, why don’t you go help Jimin out front?” Jin said. The younger boy nodded, giving Yoongi’s shoulder one last squeeze before hurrying out to the cafe. 

Yoongi came to join you and Namjoon on the couch, leaning close to you. Namjoon glanced at him and removed his arm from your shoulders, taking your hand instead. Yoongi quickly wrapped you in his arms, nuzzling into your neck in an attempt to soothe you. Jin sat in the armchair across from you. They waited patiently for you to gather yourself before you started talking. You told them the whole story.

“I don’t know how to keep him safe. Legally, I can’t do anything for you, Yoongi.” Your free hand came up to clutch at his arm, still wrapped tightly around you. “I can’t protect you without legal guardianship. You know how the police have been about so-called ‘strays’. Without papers, they’ll take you to a shelter and notify your previous owners. They’ll take you and I won’t be able to do a damn thing about it.” You released Namjoon’s hand, tears returning as you turned into Yoongi’s chest again and held him tightly.

“Well the easy solution would be to have her adopt you,” Jin said. He looked at Yoongi expectantly. That was the obvious solution, but you knew how Yoongi would feel about it. You felt him stiffen in your arms and you cried harder.

“Yoon, I know you don’t want an owner. And I don’t want to own you. But I can’t lose you. Please, please, I just want to keep you safe.” The room was silent as your pleas hung in the air for a moment.

Yoongi let out a shaky sigh. “Okay.” You froze, suddenly quiet except for the occasional hiccuping breath. “I trust you, noona,” he affirmed. “I… want you to adopt me.”

You pulled away to look him in the eye, scanning for hesitation. But as hard as those words must’ve been for him to say, you couldn’t see a trace of doubt on his face. He smiled softly at you and you smiled back, tears still falling.

“Thank you,” you choked out and he held you close again, burying his face in your hair. You turned to look at Jin. “When can I sign?”

“You got a computer and a printer?” he asked, already standing from his chair. Less than an hour later you were all seated at the table, papers printed and pens in hand. Jin had been able to pull up Yoongi’s records from the database online. Luckily, his former owners hadn’t bothered to keep the papers up-to-date since they first ‘acquired’ him years ago, so nothing was preventing you from adopting him. You signed, and Yoongi placed his fingerprint on the document.

“I’m going to run these to the registration office before they close. I’m signing as a reference, so luckily we can forego a background check or interviews as a first time owner,” Jin said, already standing and heading for the door. “Unfortunately, they’ll want you to have tags. But you only have to have them when you go out. They make earrings now too.”

“That’s what Jungkook and Tae have,” Namjoon added. “They’re actually pretty cool looking, for what it is.”

Yoongi nodded, clearly not thrilled with the idea of wearing a tag again. But when he saw the remorseful look on your face he smiled at you. “It’s okay, noona. Look, my ears are already pierced anyway.”

You looked and sure enough, he already had earrings: three on one side, two on the other. “We’ll get whichever one you want. Maybe we can find one that just looks like a regular earring,” you suggested hopefully.

[cmzucchero]

a love for the ages.

summary: g/n reader wants to take a break from spencer, but things turn out to be more difficult than expected. uses (altered) lyrics from cornelia street, death by a thousand cuts, and i wish you would by taylor swift

requested: yes!! (and requests are still open!!)

warnings: tv 14 cussing, bar scenes and mentions of alcohol

———————————————————————

You make your way back home from the restaurant, alone. This did not surprise you, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t disappointed. This was your two year anniversary. You knew his job came first, and that was one of the things you loved about him- he was loyal. Unfortunately, you picked a man that had an aggressively demanding job he needed to be loyal to as well.

You sat in your car, passing streets, and stopping for red lights. You hopelessly look up and ask the traffic lights if things will be alright. Subconsciously, you think you hear them say ‘I don’t know’. The red glow fills your car as you quietly chuckle. ‘Great Y/n, now you’re really losing it.’ you think to yourself. After some time, you finally make it home. As soon as you walk into the door, you take off your shoes and throw the keys onto the small coffee table a few feet away from you. Finally, you sit down and let out a long sigh. You start listing all the times Spencer had stood you up, neglecting to inform you the plane was late or that there was a case.

Spencer did not like technology, and the thought of texting rarely crosses his mind. However, that did not mean you never crossed his mind. There is hardly a moment he doesn’t hear your voice instructing him to grab something to eat, that he would get more done if he rested, that it’s not okay to mix patterns with his shirt and tie; or that he passes a spot that somehow mimicked your aroma perfectly. 

He had a damn eidetic memory, so he cannot believe he forgot about the date. By the time he remembered, he had already boarded the plane and lost cell service. ‘Okay, well, at the rate of velocity the plane travels at, we will be landing by 10:30. The flower shop closes at 11 and her favorite book shop closes at 11:30. The flower shop is 13 miles away-” Spencer’s thought process was interrupted by Derek asking if Spencer could move so Derek could get some “grub”. Spencer just moved his legs over in response, allowing Derek to cross. 

“Hey, Reid, what’s on your mind?” Emily asked from across Spencer. “I- uhm- I forgot to let Y/n know that I can’t make it to our dinner tonight.” JJ and Emily share a look. “Spence, isn’t this your two year anniversary?” JJ asked, her voice laced with sympathy and bewilderment. “I know, I screwed up.” “Yeah, you can say that.” Emily said with a bit of a chuckle, but losing it as soon as she noticed Spencer’s reaction. “How do I fix this one?” Spencer asked a bit too helplessly. The girls shared a look again, ending when Emily looked back at the Doctor. “I’m not sure you can.” He just hopes he never loses you, he hopes it never ends.

It was no surprise you became bitter after listing off all of the times Spencer stood you up or stretched you thin. You began to pack your bags and leave Cornelia street, Hopefully you’ll be done before he even knew you were gone. That plan did cut out the rough confrontation.

He told you about his co-worker’s divorce, and you felt for the guy. His wife did not give him a lot of room to wiggle. Now you’re starting to think that was Spencer warning you what this job entails for the romantic partners of the team. You stood looking at the half full suitcase that laid on your bed you share. You want to run and hide, but he makes you turn right back around. 

If you were right, Spencer should be over Kentucky. This gives you an hour and thirty minutes to make a decision. You needed a break, but this boy has had everyone leave him in this way, but he answer was clear… you’ve been stretched too thin.

The plane finally landed and Spencer did not take any time to get out of the plane and run to his car.

“I mean, yeah that plane ride was a bit too rocky for my liking, but didn’t pick the kid for a fear of heights type of person.” Rossi said while watching Spencer. “Hell, I would be running like that too if I had an angry Y/n to come home to.” Derek said smoothly walking to get his bags. Rossi made a “I know that story” face and followed Derek. 

You didn’t even hit the tunnel before your phone started to ring. You knew it was him without even glancing at the screen. You decided against answering and just turned around. You waited a little bit after making your decision from earlier to test the universe. If Spencer came through that door, you would sit and talk about how you felt, but if not…

You made it to the door and started to look for your key. Spencer pulled open the door before you could fully get the key out. Your face remained unfazed, but you saw how full of worry he was. You’d be just lying if you said you didn’t feel a wave of guilt wash over you. 

You push past him and stand between your breakfast bar and living room, facing him. He shuts the door and begins to apologise. You have to fight back the scream you felt bubbling up. You knew it was unfair, but damn it, tonight was supposed to be special! 

You see flowers and a book lying on the same coffee table you had thrown your keys onto a few hours before. Damn, he’s playing all the cards in his hands. 

You notice he had been quiet for a minute, so you turn and walk over to the window on your left, above the couch. Spencer watched you climb onto the couch and crawl out of the window, onto the fire escape. 

You guys took every chance to sit out there for reading, eating, talking, anything. It had a nice view and had a way of calming the both of you rather quickly. Spencer followed you out. You both sat on the roof in silence before he said “I’m so terrified of you walking away, Y/n.” You sat, calming yourself and trying to find the best answer before you settled on “I think we both need to step away for a minute. Nothing permanent yet. I just think that would be the next step for right now. I just can’t pretend everything is okay when it’s not.” Neither of you looked toward each other, but you both knew you shared the silent tears streaming down your face. 

Not much time passed before you got up, crawled back into the apartment, grabbed your stuff and left. You wanted to say something more, but you couldn’t bring yourself to it. Saying goodbye was already death by a thousand cuts. You drove back home with tears in your eyes, threatening to spill over. You had trouble sleeping that night due to all the flashbacks you kept getting of your time with him. You knew this was probably not the best decision, but at this point he probably thinks you hate him because he still has no idea what you never said. 

Spencer walked into work the next morning, clearly off his usual game. Derek and Emily realized this and started saying some things that they knew Spencer would correct. To no avail, the Doctor still stared blankly at the papers on his desk. “Hey Pretty Boy, what’s got you head in the clouds?” Derek said, now turning his body towards Spencer. No response. Derek bumped into Spencer's chair, snapping him out of his trance. 

“Wha-what?” 

“Reid, are you okay?” 

Derek asked now matching Emily’s worried features. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Has Hotch said anything about a new case?” Derek’s eyebrows are still furrowed as he slowly says no. After his response, Spencer stood up and announced he would be going to lunch early, and walked off. 

“It’s 10:38.” Derek said more to himself than Emily. Emily nodded in response and walked over to JJ’s office.

Before your shift at the library, you went back to Spencer’s apartment and grabbed anything you thought you needed. Hopefully he wasn’t there. Why would he be? I mean he’s been out and at work for about two hours. You stuff some clothes, hygiene products, and books into a bag. For the past couple of years, he had always been at the back of your mind. Hell, he still is. Your heart, your body, your hips, your love..you're trying to find a part of you that he didn’t touch. Your time, your wine, your spirit, your trust..trying to find a part of you he didn’t take up. You begin to rethink your decision until rushing out before you have an unwelcome meeting with Spencer.

Spencer didn’t quite know where to go. His body and mind just followed his feet. Before he knew it his nose was hit with a musty and sour smell and his eyes had to adjust to the contrasting dark room. He was at a bar at 11:15 in the morning. ‘...great’ he said to himself. He slowly walked up to the almost vacant bar and climbed up onto the seat. 

“Hey sugar, what are you having?” Spencer slowly looked up “Just a water please. I’m still on the job.” The bartender curtly nodded and slid a glass of water and a small cookie to Spencer. She sweetly smiled and turned around to top off the only other customer he saw in the bar. Spencer took a sip of the water and stared at the cookie, starting to smile a bit to himself. The sweet bartender came back and started talking to Spencer. 

“So who was it? You still got a job that you’re loyal to. You seem too put together to be a regular day drinker. Wasn’t a death. So, who was the one who broke your heart?” Spencer looked at the bartender for a few seconds before answering. 

“I can’t blame them if I’m being honest.” He said, diverting his eyes down to his glass of water. He chuckled to himself about what the bartender said about his job “And yeah, you can say I’m loyal to my job. That was the thing that caused the ‘break’” The bartender looked Spencer up and down “The only job I can think of  that is that demanding would be the police force, but, no offence, you don’t look like you belong there.” Spencer laughed, picking at the cookie. “Yeah, I’m sorta the police. I figure out the psychology behind why people kill and my team and I help solve cases with that knowledge.” The bartender raised her eyebrows. “Intense” was all she said. Spencer nodded and dropped his eyes back down to his water. 

After an hour or two, Derek walked into the bar. He looked around and moved towards Spencer. It wasn’t that hard to spot him since he was the only other person at the bar besides a trucker on the other end. 

“Hey kid, you okay?” Spencer didn’t acknowledge Derek. They sat in silence until Spencer finally said “I gave them so much but it wasn’t enough.” Derek nodded and ordered a glass of water for himself. He knew they would be there for a while. 

“Do you want my advice?” Derek said after a sigh. ‘No, I really just want her back.’ Spencer thought, but decided to remain silent. They stayed in the bar for a bit longer. 

“Sure.” Spencer said meekly. 

“You’ve got to win her back.”

 “And how do you suppose I do that, Derek?” a more snappy response from the Doctor. 

“Well, you could go to the library. She’s working today, right?” 

Spencer nodded but was still confused about how going to their work and suffocating them when she wanted a break would win them back. 

“I’ll go with you and we’ll say we need a book for a case.” Derek said, hopeful. 

Spencer sighed. “They’ll know it’s an excuse.” 

“No they won’t. What makes you think they will?” 

“I have an eidetic memory.”

“And you’ve never read twilight.” 

“What?”  

“You’ve never read twilight. If they asks, we say that one of our unsubs is mimicking something from it.”

Spencer was quiet for a moment, then gathered his coat and bag and made his way for the door. 

“Alight!” Was all Derek said, grabbing his coat and following Spencer.

 You were talking to your coworker about Spencer, not noticing the bell ringing from the front of the door. 

“I mean it hasn’t even been 24 hours but I already miss him too much to be mad anymore.” you say, shaking your head, thinking you were being just a bit too pathetic. 

Your coworker tried getting your attention by tapping her pencil rapidly. She wishes she chose a  better distraction cause you kept going on while the certain FBI agent kept getting closer. Suddenly, Spencer ducked behind a bookshelf, leaving derek looking around confused after realizing his friend disappeared. 

“I just have a feeling this will be the kind of heartbreak time will never mend, you know. I don’t know, I just wish he was right here, right now, and it’s all good again.”

“Well your last wish is granted!” Your coworker whispered, slightly agitated.

Your eyes grew as you looked around, looking for Spencer. The only thing you saw was Derek Morgan approaching the check-out desk with an alarming smug look on his face. 

You felt your face heat up and turn red while you grab the book he slid over the counter.

“Hello Derek, what brings you in.”

“Oh, Pretty Boy and I have to get some books for a case.”

Your heart dropped. ‘Shit! He’s in here!’. Alarms start going off in your head. Derek leans over the counter and whispers “Don’t worry, I don’t think he heard.” Your eyes widen, but you are slightly relieved knowing Spencer didn’t hear your pathetic rambling. 

You clear your throat and ask if that was all Derek was getting. He looked around, what you guessed was him looking for Spencer, and nodded. “Good bye, Pretty.” he said with a wink, then turned around toward the door. You continue to watch and see Spencer practically run out of the aisle closest to the door, following Derek out. You can’t help chuckle, despite the pain in your heart. 

“Thanks for the warning.” you said to your coworker, Anne, while you were still facing the door 

“I tried to tell you!” 

“Yeah, sure” you chuckle, finally turning towards her.

“You wanna grab a drink tonight. No offense, but it seems like you need it.” 

“Jee, thanks. I will take you up that offer.” 

Anne was the only person you thought would have room to have you as a roommate until you find another apartment. You felt bad for barging in, but you didn’t think your car would suffice. Besides, she owes you for all the shifts you picked up. 

Spencer ended up going back to work with a stupid book and a large dent in his pride. The rest of the day was slow. There was no case and the other members apparently took most of his files. He didn’t argue with them, though. He was drained and thankful they took that load off of him. He finished his stack about an hour before he was supposed to leave, but Hotch allowed him to leave. He felt weird about going back to the bar, so maybe he’ll just camp out at his apartment. After a moment of thought, he decided just to ride around in his car. He knew the apartment would remind him of you too much. It’d be like sitting in a haunted room, waiting for a sign of you coming back.You haven’t even been gone for 24 hours. How could he feel this raw and vulnerable?

“What are you wearing?!” 

“Uhh, some clothes.”

“Those aren’t clothes for the bar!” 

“I mean they do sorta meet up the dress code. I’m not trying to get any guys. I don’t want a rebound. Just want to forget for a while.”

“The only way to really do that is with another guy, Y/n.” 

“No, Anne. By the way, you’re wearing two different earrings.”

“Oh- thanks!”

Anne rushed back into the bathroom while you stood in the middle of the living room. You felt a bit awkward, so you pulled your phone out of your jeans. ‘What does she mean ‘these aren’t bar clothes’?’ you thought. You were wearing jeans, converse, and a jacket over a shirt. What else are you supposed to wear? 

You were broken from your thoughts by Anne walking out and hollering. You two weren’t very similar, whatsoever, but she was your closest friend in D.C., besides Spencer, but that doesn’t really count right now, does it? Anne was ushering you out the door with her, only pausing to lock her apartment door. You had no idea how this night was going to play out. 

“C’mon, you came here to forget- shot.”

Anne was persistent trying to help you forget Spencer. You would’ve complied if you knew that you getting drunk wouldn't be enough. Once the morning came, you would be hit with the realization that he was not yours. 

You endured a few more shots before sneaking away from Anne. You left her in a booth while you climbed up into a bar stool. 

“Hey hon, whatcha want?”

“Just a water please”

The bartender gave a nod and slid the water over. She tended to a few other customers before she circled back to you. 

“So what’s got you in the slumps?”

You’re a bit taken aback from her blunt demeanor, but at least she wasn’t giving you shots.

“I asked my...my boyfriend? I don’t know, I asked for a break.”

“And now you’re upset?”

“Yeah, I am. Sounds so stupid, but I think it’s too late to go back to him. I just got so frustrated! He’s more loyal to his job than to me. I mean, it’s a noble job, I’m not that upset about that, he just doesn’t communicate well!”

The bartender looked like she knew something when you talked about how Spencer was loyal to his job. You brushed it off as her being familiar with the same situation. 

“I don’t think it’s too late. I actually think he might be just as down in the dumps as you are.” 

“I don’t know. What makes you think that?”

“Cause there was a tweaky little guy in here earlier today. Eileene gave him a glass of water. I was eavesdropping from the booth. He barely talked- just poked at his cookie.” 

You felt your heart start to race. Spencer was upset! ‘Of course he is, idiot.’ you cursed yourself. 

You looked back up to the bartender, thanked her, slid a 10 across the bar, and rushed over to find Anne. 

Spencer had been driving for a while now and he figured he should probably brace himself to enter the apartment. 

He felt a painful ping in his chest when he passed the street the apartment complex rested on. All the memories started flooding back in. The dinners- cut to the break up. The Doctor Who marathons- cut to the breakup. All the whispered questions asking what someone meant in a movie- cut to the breakup. He knew he wouldn’t be able to pass the bathroom without smelling you. 

Spencer opened the door and stood in the doorway for a minute, taking in the picture. You weren’t cooking, or dancing to Dean Martin; you weren’t lying on your stomach, reading; you weren’t hunched over your laptop, writing; and he didn’t hear your soft snores from the bedroom. It was colorless, silent, and empty. 

After a few shaky steps towards the living room, he shut the door. He felt like a stranger in his own apartment. Without you, it was so bland and different. He couldn’t stomach any food, and he had already completely marked out the idea of going anywhere near the bathroom for a shower. 

Spencer fell onto the couch and just stared. Your shoes weren’t by the door with your socks kicked several feet from them. Your keys were missing from their usual spot. Your presence was gone. And until yours came back, Spencer’s was gone.

You have two choices. Keep your pride and learn to live without Spencer, or, you would swallow your pride and go back home. Between the pain in your heart and the rain, you chose the latter. 

He was upset, he skipped work, he came into your library. You stopped in your tracks. They had a case. He shouldn’t be home. He wouldn’t be there. If he’s not then maybe that’s just the universe- ‘No, Y/n, last time you thought the universe would choose for you it was wrong. It’s the thing that got you into this shit show.’ You began to walk again, quickening your pace every block you pass. 

Spencer didn’t know how much time had passed when he heard a knock on the door. He slowly got up, trying to piece himself together for Derek or anyone else on the other side of the door. He had gotten to the coffee table when he heard keys jingling. His entire body halted, then jerked forward. He swung the door open as soon as you stuck the key into the lock. 

You and Spencer stare at each other before, in unison, you practically leaped forward. You missed his smell. You have gone weeks without seeing him, but you never missed him as much as you have in these 24 hours. Spencer felt his spirit recharge the longer he held onto you. It made no sense to him, but he didn’t question it. He just wanted to stay like that, with you, forever. 

“I probably smell like a wet dog.” you say, muffled, into his chest. 

Spencer let out a laugh and pulled you out, arm length away, and still holding onto your shoulders. “Yeah, but I don’t really care right now.” You both break into ear-to-ear smiles while he pulls you back in to shut the door. He wanted both of you to stay in that apartment forever. 

Both of you awkwardly stood in the hall between the living room and kitchen. 

“I’m sorry.” you practically blurt out “I was just mad and childish. I wanted to be alone but I didn’t necessarily want to break it off. I think that was the anger. I don’t know. I just want that to go away. I’m sorry-” your rambling was cut off by spencer. 

“Y/n, it’s in the past. It’s over now. You’re back. I’m back. It’s fine.” 

You weakly laugh and just step back into him, tucking your head into his chest. He wraps his arms around you.

Spencer had always said it was a great love you two shared. You’re just so glad that the pages are still being written.

AN: Hello, thank you so much for reading!! I hope you liked it!! I always accept constructive criticism!! This one was a challenge! Between making 3 breakup songs have a happy ending, and all the technical difficulties, it was a bit hectic, but SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE!! I love challenges, so if you have any requests, send them my way (guidelines are in masterlist)!! Hope everyone has a day/night!!! <333

[sarandsaffitz]

Poppy Seed Almond Cake, p. 41, Dessert Person by Claire Saffitz

Made on 12/5/2021 and 12/10/2021

My BFF Caroline told me her Mom exclusively made bundt cakes growing up. So, when I brought her a big chunk of what I had thought was a disaster of a cake, she said she ate the whole thing and didn’t save any for her roommate. I have never made bundt cakes before and never really ate them with any regularity. This cake came out pretty well (the second time I made it), the outside has a bit of a crunch, the inside has the consistency of a cakey poppy seed muffin. I think this would make for a tasty, casual breakfast cake.

I started the journey of making this cake by realizing that I would have to get some equipment, a first for me so far on this adventure of turning all the Dessert Person recipes vegan.

I bought both a bundt pan and an electric hand mixer from Good Will. The hand mixer was broken, so I went back and got a hand crank hand mixer that helps save my arms about 3% muscle tone while mixing (read: not much muscle tone is saved while mixing). The bundt pan was probably donated because that person also didn’t get the whole cake to come out without the top breaking (read: which happened to me both times I made it, albeit, the second time was only a small quarter of the top, rather than the entire top. Top photo is the first cake, bottom left photo is the second cake).

I could not find a wire rack at Good Will, and I didn’t have time to go to more thrift stores, so Matt and I improvised by using the muffin tin inside a baking dish as seen above (bottom right). The first time I turned out the cake, we had the muffin tin upside down, the second time I did it, the muffin tin was right side up. I don’t know if this method helped or hindered me, so maybe just get a wire rack if you make this cake.

Make it vegan!

You only need to make three substitutions in this recipe - Instead of whole milk use coconut milk (or your favorite plant based alternative), instead of eggs use flax eggs, and instead of butter use Earth Balance.

My biggest take away making this twice - use butter instead of oil to grease the pan for more intricate designs. I would also recommend allowing the cake to cool for at least an hour before trying to turn it out. The first time I baked this, I waited 15 minutes, flipped the cake out on my ‘‘wire rack’ (read: muffin tin), and shouted “DISASTER!” when I saw the carnage. Huge shout out to my partner Matt for comforting me twice during these bakes, the first for “DISASTER!” and the second for when I realized I had run out of flour and he walked with me to the store to get more. What would I do without my Matt?

I give this cake a 6 out of 20 in looks, but a 9 out of 13 in taste. I especially liked the crunch of the crust on the outside paired with the soft and moist inside. Fortunately, I have great cake to bring to my DnD game, where one of the players LOVES poppy seeds. Natasha, I’m positive you’re going to really like this one!

[linastudyblrsblog]

Burnout, unfortunately, is everywhere. If you haven’t experienced it personally, you probably know someone who has self-diagnosed.

 Defined by the World Health Organization as a syndrome “conceptualized as resulted from chronic workplace stress,” it causes exhaustion, “feelings of negativism or cynicism,” and reduced efficacy. That’s a big umbrella, and the condition has become something of a catch-all for chronic, modern-day stress. 

Here are 11 of our favorites to help you create your own escape plan:

1. Figure out which kind of burnout you have.

The Association for Psychological Science found that burnout comes in three different types, and each one needs a different solution:

1. Overload: The frenetic employee who works toward success until exhaustion, is most closely related to emotional venting. These individuals might try to cope with their stress by complaining about the organizational hierarchy at work, feeling as though it imposes limits on their goals and ambitions. That coping strategy, unsurprisingly, seems to lead to a stress overload and a tendency to throw in the towel.

2. Lack of Development: Most closely associated with an avoidance coping strategy. These under-challenged workers tend to manage stress by distancing themselves from work, a strategy that leads to depersonalization and cynicism — a harbinger for burning out and packing up shop.

3. Neglect: Seems to stem from a coping strategy based on giving up in the face of stress. Even though these individuals want to achieve a certain goal, they lack the motivation to plow through barriers to get to it

2. Cut down and start saying “no.”

Every “yes” you say adds another thing on your plate and takes more energy away from you, and your creativity:

If you take on too many commitments, start saying ‘no’. If you have too many ideas, execute a few and put the rest in a folder labeled ‘backburner’. If you suffer from information overload, start blocking off downtime or focused worktime in your schedule (here are some tools that may help). Answer email at set times. Switch your phone off, or even leave it behind. The world won’t end. I promise.

3.  Give up on getting motivated.

With real burnout mode, you’re too exhausted to stay positive. So don’t:

When you’re mired in negative emotions about work, resist the urge to try to stamp them out. Instead, get a little distance — step away from your desk, focus on your breath for a few seconds — and then just feel the negativity, without trying to banish it. Then take action alongside the emotion. Usually, the negative feelings will soon dissipate. Even if they don’t, you’ll be a step closer to a meaningful achievement.

4.  Treat the disease, not the symptoms. 

For real recovery and prevention to happen, you need to find the real, deeper issue behind why you’re burnt out:

Instead of overreacting to the blip, step back from it, see it as an incident instead of an indictment, and then examine it like Sherlock Holmes looking for clues.

For example, you could ask yourself: What happened before the slip? Did I encounter a specific trigger event such as a last-minute client request? Was there an unusual circumstance such as sickness? When did I first notice the reversion in my behavior? Is some part of this routine unsustainable and if so, how could I adjust it to make it more realistic?

5.  Make downtime a daily ritual.

To help relieve pressure, schedule daily blocks of downtime to refuel your brain and well-being. It can be anything from meditation to a nap, a walk, or simply turning off the wifi for a while:

When it comes to scheduling, we will need to allocate blocks of time for deep thinking. Maybe you will carve out a 1-2 hour block on your calendar every day for taking a walk or grabbing a cup of coffee and just pondering some of those bigger things. I can even imagine a day when homes and apartments have a special switch that shuts down wi-fi and data access during dinner or at night – just to provide a temporary pause from the constant flow of status updates and other communications…

There is no better mental escape from our tech-charged world than the act of meditation. If only for 15 minutes, the ability to steer your mind away from constant stimulation is downright liberating. There are various kinds of meditation. Some forms require you to think about nothing and completely clear your mind. (This is quite hard, at least for me.) Other forms of meditation are about focusing on one specific thing – often your breath, or a mantra that you repeat in your head (or out loud) for 10-15 minutes…

If you can’t adopt meditation, you might also try clearing your mind the old fashioned way – by sleeping. The legendary energy expert and bestselling author Tony Schwartz takes a 20-minute nap every day. Even if it’s a few hours before he presents to a packed audience, he’ll take a short nap.

6.  Stop being a perfectionist; start satisficing.

Trying to maximize every task and squeeze every drop of productivity out of your creative work is a recipe for exhaustion and procrastination. Set yourself boundaries for acceptable work and stick to them:

Consistently sacrificing your health, your well being, your relationships, and your sanity for the sake of living up to impossible standards will lead to some dangerous behaviors and, ironically, a great deal of procrastination. Instead of saying, “I’ll stay up until this is done,” say, “I’ll work until X time and then I’m stopping. I may end up needing to ask for an extension or complete less than perfect work. But that’s OK. I’m worth it.” Making sleep, exercise, and downtime a regular part of your life plays an essential role in a lasting, productive creative career.

7.  Track your progress every day.

Keeping track allows you to see exactly how much is on your plate, not only day-to-day, but consistently over time:

Disappointing feedback can be painful at first – research shows that failure and losses can hurt twice as much as the pleasure of equivalent gains. But if you discover you’re off course, reliable feedback shows you by how much, and you then have the opportunity to take remedial action and to plot a new training regime or writing schedule. The temporary pain of negative feedback is nothing compared with the crushing experience of project failure. Better to discover that you’re behind and need to start writing an hour earlier each day, than to have your book contract rescinded further down the line because you’ve failed to deliver.

8.  Change location often.

Entrepreneurs or freelancers can be especially prone to burnout. Joel Runyon plays “workstation popcorn,” in which he groups tasks by location and then switches, in order to keep work manageable, provide himself frequent breaks, and spend his time efficiently:

You find yourself spending hours at your computer, dutifully “working” but getting very little done. You finish each day with the dreaded feeling that you’re behind, and that you’re only falling farther and farther behind. You’re buried below an ever-growing to-do list. There’s a feeling of dread that tomorrow is coming, and that it’s bringing with it even more work that you probably won’t be able to get ahead on.

List out everything you need to do today. Try to be as specific as you can…Next, break that list into three sections. Step 1: Go to cafe [or desk, a different table in your office, etc.] #1. Step 2: Start working on item group #1…Once you finish all the tasks in group #1, get up and move. Close your tabs, pack your bags, and physically move your butt to your next spot. If you can, walk or bike to your next stop…When you get to the next cafe [or spot], start on the next action item group, and repeat…

When you’ve completed everything on your to-do list for the day, you are done working. Relax, kick back, and live your life. Don’t take work home with you because that won’t help you get more done – it will just wear you out.

9.  Don’t overload what downtime you do get.

Vacations themselves can cause, or worsen burnout, with high-stress situations, expectations, and sleep interruption. Use it to help in recovery from burnout instead: 

Make a flexible itinerary a priority. [A] study from Radboud University found that effective vacations give you the choice and freedom to choose what you want to do. That means two things: Try to avoid structuring your vacation around an unbreakable schedule, and plan on going somewhere that has multiple options to pick from depending on the weather, your level of energy, or your budget.

10. Write yourself fan mail.

Seth Godin uses self-fan mail as a way to keep motivated instead of burning out on a project that seems far from completion:

I define non-clinical anxiety as, “experiencing failure in advance.” If you’re busy enacting a future that hasn’t happened yet, and amplifying the worst possible outcomes, it’s no wonder it’s difficult to ship that work. With disappointment, I note that our culture doesn’t have an easily found word for the opposite. For experiencing success in advance. For visualizing the best possible outcomes before they happen. Will your book get a great testimonial? Write it out. Will your talk move someone in the audience to change and to let you know about it? What did they say? Will this new product gain shelf space at the local market? Take a picture. Writing yourself fan mail in advance, and picturing the change you’ve announced you’re trying, to make is an effective way to push yourself to build something that actually generates that action.

  11. Break projects into bite-sized pieces.

Taking a task on in one entire lump can be exhausting and provide little room for rest in between. Breaking up your projects into set chunks with their own deadlines provides a much healthier, and easier, way of completing a large project:

The default take on deadlines is typically to consider them to be cumbersome and stressful. Yet, from another perspective, a deadline can be viewed as a huge benefit to any project. Without the urgency of a hard deadline pushing a project to completion, it’s easy for you, your team, or your client to lose focus. We’ve all worked on agonizing projects where the timeline just bleeds on and on, merely because the flexibility is there…

It turns out that the manner in which a task is presented to someone – or the way in which you present it to your brain – has a significant impact on how motivated you will be to take action. A study led by researcher Sean McCrea at the University of Konstanz in Germany recently found that people are much more likely to tackle a concrete task than an abstract task… It seems to me like the difference between being handed a map versus following the step-by-step instructions of a GPS device. Not everyone can read a map, but everyone can follow the directions. By breaking your project down into smaller, well-described tasks, the way forward becomes clear and it’s easy to take action.

[aion-rsa]

Friday Night Lights: A Non-American’s Guide to American Football

https://ift.tt/3zYMt15

Friday Night Lights is now back on Netflix and you have to watch it. 

Just to be clear, that isn’t a request – it’s an order. The NBC football drama is simply one of the most affecting, thrilling American TV shows of all time. Though premiering in 2006, the show can mark its lineage all the way back to a true story from the late ‘80s. In 1990, sports journalist H.G. “Buzz” Bissinger published the non-fiction book Friday Night Lights: A Town, a Team, and a Dream. The book follows the story of the 1988 Permian Panthers high school football team in Odessa, Texas as they make a run for a Texas state championship.

The book was adapted into a Peter Berg film of the same name in 2004, starring Billy Bob Thornton. The story of the Permian Panthers was dramatically rich enough to conquer two mediums already, but when a third was announced in the form of a TV series for NBC it seemed like overkill. Did the world really need more high school football drama after a successful book and movie? It turns out that the world really did.

Friday Night Lights, the TV show, further fictionalized Bissinger’s story. Odessa, Texas becomes the fictional Dillon, Texas (though the Permian Panthers logo remains a big yellow “P”). Kyle Chandler steps into the role of a new coach, the magnanimous Eric Taylor. Shot in a cinema verite-style where blocking is optional, Friday Night Lights makes the viewer feel like they are just another Dillon citizen, desperately dreaming for a state championship. Above all else, this empathetic show never speaks down to its small town characters. 

As previously stated, Friday Night Lights is a must-watch. But if you’re one of our many non-American readers (Hello, everyone! I see you out there, writing “s” in words that need “z”), the football angle may seem like a real roadblock. So let’s tear down that roadblock. American football is the most popular sport in the United States but also perhaps its most impenetrable. The rulebook is thick and its connection to American culture deep. What follows is an attempt to explain American football for non-American viewers who are hesitant to tackle the show. Hopefully this will also prove useful to existing Friday Night Lights fans who have some questions about the game. 

To simplify matters, we’ve broken our football school down into three parts: The Different Levels of American Football, which explains the sport’s place in American culture and why high school football is a big deal; The Rules of American Football, which is as succinct a distillation of how the game is played as possible; and The Strategy of American Football, which examines whether Eric Taylor is even a good coach anyway. 

The Different Levels of American Football

Football is a pervasive force in American society. The highest level of play in the country (and the world) is the National Football League in which 32 teams of well-paid professionals compete against one another. The NFL is the richest sports league in the world by revenue and its championship, the Super Bowl, is usually watched by roughly 100 million people per year. Football’s influence doesn’t begin and end with the NFL though. The NFL doesn’t have a minor league or development system, so those interested in watching younger athletes are able to do so by following the sport on the collegiate or high school level.

College football is a huge deal. Some major universities’ football stadiums can house upwards of 100,000 fans. Four-year universities and colleges across the country field their own football teams that compete against one another in 12-game seasons (before a postseason consisting of “Bowl Games” but that’s too complicated to get into right now). Football at the collegiate level contains hundreds of teams split up into different leagues based on size and different conferences based on geography (for the most part). There isn’t any promotion and relegation like in European football leagues but if an institution grows big enough they can secure an invite to a higher level.

Though the decision-makers of the sport like to pretend it’s an amateur exercise and the players are not paid, college football is really a multi-billion dollar business. In fact, college football’s governing body, the NCAA, was just spooked enough by a U.S. Supreme Court decision that it allowed its athletes to finally pursue “Name, Image, Likeness (NIL)” deals in which they are allowed to make money from personal sponsorships. 

Read more

TV

25 Best Sports TV Shows: Cobra Kai, Ted Lasso, and More

By Alec Bojalad

TV

12 Best Movie and TV Quarterbacks of All Time

By Chris Longo and 1 other

Then we come to the high school level of football. Longtime viewers of American teenage dramas may have a pretty good idea of what a U.S. high school is now but here’s a primer for those who don’t. High school is the highest level of free public education in the U.S. before the more academically (and financially) strenuous college system. High school follows eighth grade (which together with seventh grade usually comprises of “middle school”) and consists of freshmen (ninth graders or 14-15-year-olds), sophomores (tenth graders or 15-16-year-olds), juniors (11th graders or 16-17-year-olds), and seniors (12 graders of 17-18-year-olds).

In some areas of the country, high school football is a bigger deal than college football or even the NFL. Though this level of the sport is played by essentially children, a high school football team may be the only competitive sports enterprise within hundreds of miles for some communities. This is particularly true in the massive U.S. state of Texas. Every region of the U.S. loves football, but passion for the sport is particularly acute in the Southeast, Midwest, and Texas. West Texas, where Friday Night Lights is set, is really high school football mad. The region is distinctly rural and far removed from the state’s three big cities – Houston, Austin, and Dallas. As such, high school football is the singular cultural force that many oil-drilling West Texas communities rally around.

High school football leagues across the country differ considerably, but like in college football, schools are generally grouped together by size and funding. Public and private high schools are able to compete in the same sports conferences as long as they have similar enrollments and budgets. Typically a high school football season consists of only 10 games (football is a physically brutal sport and as such plays far fewer games per year than other sports like baseball, basketball, or soccer). The regular season is usually followed by a bracket-style playoffs culminating in a state championship. There is no country-wide tournament, which is why “winning state” is the ultimate goal in Friday Night Lights. 

The Rules of American Football

I won’t lie to you: this is going to be difficult. Explaining any sport from scratch is a tall task, let alone a sport as complicated as football. Let me attempt to do so from the ground up and please be patient. There will be some visual aids as well.

First, it’s probably helpful to know about the field that football is played on. There’s a reason why in some European markets that the sport is known as “Gridiron Football” and that’s because the field resembles a cooking utensil known as a gridiron.

Every American football field consists of 100 yards (split into two sides of 1-50 yards). At the end of each side of the field is an “endzone.” A player entering into the endzone with the football is called a “touchdown” and nets a team six points. At the back of each endzone are the goalposts – yellow tuning fork-like structures that the ball is occasionally kicked through for more points. These are akin to rugby’s goalposts but slightly differently shaped. Let’s table the whole kicking thing for now and focus strictly on the action on the field.

The goal of football is to enter into the endzone with the ball to score points and have more points at the end of the game than the other team. A football game is 60 minutes, split into four 15-minute quarters (with a lengthy halftime break after the second quarter). Eleven players take the field for each team, one side on “offense” and one side on “defense.” A coin is flipped at the beginning of each game to decide who gets to start as offense and who gets to start as defense. The team who began the game on defense will get to be the offense at the start of the second half.

The offense is charged with advancing the ball 100 yards down the field into the end zone, while the defense is tasked with stopping them by tackling the person with the football to the ground. The offense is granted four tries or “plays” to try to score. The action isn’t continuous in American football like it is in European football. After a team runs a play to attempt to advance the ball, they get a 40-second break to plot their next play. A play simply refers to the action on the field that the offense takes to get down the field. It begins with the “center” “snapping” the ball to the “quarterback” behind him and ends when the offense either scores (rare) or is foiled in some way – whether that means being tackled in bounds, stepping out of bounds, or throwing the ball out of bounds. Here is a chart of the typical football positions.

The offense’s two most reliable ways of advancing the ball downfield are either throwing it or running it. On a running play, the quarterback (Jason Street or Matt Saracen in Friday Night Lights) will receive the snap and hand it off to a running back (Smash Williams or Tim Riggins) who tries to run the ball upfield while his teammates block for him. Alternatively, the quarterback can throw the ball to an open wide receiver as long as the throw originates from behind the line of scrimmage (the area on the field where the play originated). 

Four tries to reach the end zone are rarely enough opportunities for the offense. Thankfully, that’s where “first downs” come in. If the offense advances 10 yards, their “downs” or attempts to score reset back to the full four. That’s where terms like “1st and 10” or “2nd and 7” or “4th and 1” come from. The first number refers to which “down” or attempt the offense is on (1, 2, 3, or 4) while the second number refers to how many yards they need to reach to achieve another first down. Due to penalties or a player being tackled well behind the line of scrimmage (called a “sack” or a “tackle for loss”), the number of yards needed to reach a first down can exceed 10. One time in 2012, the Washington Football Team even had a “3rd and 50”, meaning they needed to move 50 yards for a first down. 

If the offense fails to score or get a first down while on fourth down, possession of the ball is granted to the other team on the same spot that the offense failed. This is called a “turnover on downs.” The team that was previously on offense will bring their defensive unit into the game while the other team will bring their offensive unit. At the collegiate and professional level, players usually only play on one “side” of the ball – offense or defense. In high school, where the level of talent is more inconsistent, it’s not uncommon for several players to be on both the offensive and defensive units. This doesn’t come up much on Friday Night Lights though – for the most part the offensive players stay on offense and the defensive players stay on defense.

It is possible for the defense to force a turnover in other ways beyond just a turnover on downs. If the offense drops or “fumbles”’ the ball and the defense recovers it, it belongs to them. If the defense catches a ball thrown by the offense it is an “interception” and the offense suddenly becomes the defense and the defense suddenly becomes the offense. This situation factors prominently in Friday Night Light’s first episode. 

Turnovers are awful, so the offense has a couple of tools to combat them. At any point during their drive down the field, the offense can choose to “punt” the ball. This means that if they’ve reached 4th down and are unlikely to convert a first down (if it is 4th and 10 from their own 30 yardline for instance), they can choose to have a kicking specialist called a “punter” enter the field. The punter receives the snap, tosses the ball up in the air, and punts the ball far down the field to the other team to catch and try to advance. This is a surrender from the offense but at least they’re making things a bit more difficult for the other offense by pushing the new offense further down the field. Punts rarely factor into Friday Night Lights as they aren’t particularly interesting. 

Alternatively, if the offense is close to the end zone but not close enough that they’re confident they can reach it, they can attempt to kick the ball through the aforementioned goalposts for three points. A “kicker” is brought onto the field and attempts to kick the ball through the goalposts from the ground. A “holder” is allowed to hold the ball upright for the kicker but the ball must be touching the ground for the attempt to count.

Let’s delve a little further into the scoring system. We’ve mentioned that kicking the ball through the uprights is a field goal and nets three points while carrying the ball into the endzone is a touchdown and nets six points. But there are a couple other ways to score in football as well. After a touchdown is achieved, the offense is immediately granted the opportunity to score again. They must choose whether they want to kick the ball through the uprights from extremely close range (which nets one extra point) or to try to reach the end zone again from extremely close range (which nets two extra points). Additionally, if the offense is tackled in their own end zone, it nets two points for the opposing team and they receive the ball back via punt. This is called a “safety.”

To recap: 

Safety: 2 points

Field Goal: 3 points

Touchdown: 6 points (+1 for a field goal attempt, +2 for a scoring attempt).

This means that football scores can generate pretty much any result other than 1-0 or 1-1. Typically a “normal” scoring game will be somewhere between the 20-40 range in divisions of 7 or 3. A score of 35-28 is a pretty usual final football score.

Still confused? That’s understandable. Football is a fairly confusing sport at times. But hopefully you are a little better equipped to understand the action on the field in Friday Night Lights. The show certainly isn’t trying to present a complicated depiction of football. Armed with the basics, you should have a rough idea of what’s happening during all the football action. 

If you feel like you’ve mastered the basics, feel free to move on to the final section of this piece.

The Strategy of American Football

The only constant in football is change. The rules of the sport are tweaked every single year and sometimes the sport undergoes truly massive alterations. In fact, the forward pass itself (now a staple of the game) wasn’t even legal for the first few decades of football’s existence. As such, the offensive and defensive strategies of football are in a constant state of flux. 

What’s interesting to note about Friday Night Lights is how old-fashioned its depiction of football appears to be at the series’ beginning. Keep in mind that this story began with the 1988 Permian Panthers. So despite premiering and taking place in 2006, the Dillon Panthers offense looks quite antiquated at first. 

The Dillon Panthers open the series as a run-first offense in a “Wing-T” formation. Running back Brian “Smash” Williams is the cornerstone of the Panthers’ strategy because back in the ‘80s and ‘90s, athletically superior running backs were usually the most dominant force in any high school offense. The Panthers plan of attack is to have a fast tailback (colloquially called a “running back” because they begin the play in the backfield and then…run)  and a strong fullback in the backfield alongside the quarterback. The Panthers’ plan is to snap the ball, give it to the fast guy, have him follow the big blockers, then rinse and repeat.

Interestingly enough, the show uses the primitiveness of the Panthers’ offense to its advantage in later seasons. When some parents and Panthers boosters (literally just rich people that support a high school or college team) want to oust Coach Eric Taylor, they point to his inability to change with the times and create a sophisticated passing attack as one reason. Coach Taylor does eventually attempt to implement a “spread” offense. 

Spread offenses were all the rage at the high school and collegiate level in the early aughts. The “spread” strategy refers to “spreading” three to five wide receivers on the line of scrimmage to force the defense to cover them man-to-man. Defenses are always strategizing just like offenses, and by forcing the defense to spread out and guard many receivers, it takes away a lot of their more sophisticated coverage options (like double-teaming or divvying up the field into “zones” of coverage). 

In later seasons, when Coach Taylor gains access to a fast, dynamic quarterback, he incorporates a bit of the “option” into his spread offense. This is where the QB uses the spacing from the spread to scan the field, analyze certain players’ positioning on the defense, and decide to pass the ball, hand off the ball, or run the ball himself.

Based on all this, it sounds like Eric Taylor is a pretty brilliant coach, right? Well, not exactly. The internet is littered with breakdowns of Taylor’s strategy from smart football minds. Most of said articles criticize him on two big fronts. The first is his tardiness in adapting to a pass-heavy offense. The second is his absolutely abominable clock management. Since the clock counts down in American football and there is no stoppage time, managing time is a huge part of a coach’s responsibility. 

Since the show naturally wants to inject some drama into its football scenes, the Dillon Panthers as coached by Eric Taylor often have next to 0 clock awareness. This breakdown even notes than in the pilot episode, the Panthers somehow only move the ball 30 yards in five minutes of gametime. That is…pretty curious. 

Also, while it’s not uncommon for a head coach to specialize in either the defensive or offensive side of the ball, Eric Taylor’s is particularly offensive-focused. Defensive plays aren’t as exciting to depict on television, so Coach Taylor is rarely shown coaching up the defensive half of his team. That’s a pretty big blindspot when it comes to head coaching. 

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Now that you’ve read through this full breakdown of American football, give Friday Night Lights a watch or a rewatch. Who knows – you may even be a sharper football mind than Coach Taylor at this point.

The post Friday Night Lights: A Non-American’s Guide to American Football appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3lnaaMj

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #100: Helena Blavatsky

It’s finally here, the one hundredth build of this series! I wonder what big-name servant we’re making for the milestone! Merlin? Skadi?

Alright, we can work with that.

Today on Fate and Phantasms’ 100th episode, we’re making the pint-sized powerhouse Helena Blavatsky! With the help of her Mahatmas, Helena is a useful all-around caster who can also blast enemies with beams of light from unidentified flying objects.

Check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!

Next up: Chaldea’s next top backpack

Race and Background

Like most servants, Helena is probably a human (or revenant, if you want to nitpick), but you’re small for an adult, look way younger than you really are, and are something of an eccentric, so all that points to being a Gnome. Specifically, Rock Gnomes are tinkerers and geniuses, and that will give you +2 Intelligence and +1 Constitution; Darkvision; Gnome Cunning, giving you advantage on all intelligence, wisdom, and charisma saves against magic, Artificer’s Lore, doubling your History proficiency when figuring out magical, alchemical, or technological items, and the Tinker ability, which lets you spend an hour to make small clockwork items. The Clockwork Toy that you can make this way will make your first Colonel Olcott, but we’ll get more impactful ways to make them later.

You’re a Cloistered Scholar, giving you proficiency in History so your Lore can actually be used for something, and Arcana because you’re literally a caster.

Ability Scores

Your highest ability score should be Intelligence- You get a lot of your power from the Mahatmas, but you still have to do your fair share of studying to make it work as well as you do. Second highest is Charisma. You study the world, but you also have your own way of seeing the world, and it’s so pervasive it actually effects how things work. After that is Dexterity; you’re small and clearly don’t wear armor. After that is Constitution, mostly because everything else is worse. Your Wisdom is pretty low, having your own filter on the world kind of skews your ability to see the hard facts. However, you’re really bad at Strength. We don’t need it, and you don’t have it.

Class Levels

1. Warlock 1: Congratulations on signing on with Mahatma Inc., your leading source for arcane power! Lorewise, the Mahatmas would probably be Archfey or Great Old Ones, but we need a patron that can make you fly and fire massive flaming blasts of light, and that’s the Efreeti to a T. When you sign up with them, you get Pact Magic, spell slots that regenerate on short rests. You can use these slots to cast Spells using your Charisma as the casting ability. You also get a Genie’s Vessel, a tiny object you can vanish inside of once per long rest thanks as a Bottled Respite. While you’re holding the item you can also use your Genie’s Wrath to add fire damage to an attack roll-based damage equal to your proficiency bonus once per turn. Finally, you get proficiency in Wisdom and Charisma saves, as well as Nature and Religion checks. You study the world around you to find more signs of the Mahatmas, so you’ve gotten pretty good at it.

Like most casters, Helena’s spell list shouldn’t be taken as gospel- she’s a very versatile caster, so feel free to mix things up. Really, this is true of every part of every build we make, but especially your magic.

Anyway, grab Eldritch Blast for some caster balls, Mage Hand to move the colonel around, Comprehend Languages because I doubt the Mahatmas speak common, and Burning Hands for a bit of fire power.

2. Wizard 1: Warlocks are great, but they don’t really get many spell slots. Wizards are way more your speed right now anyway. At first level, you get Spellcasting, another set of spell slots that can cast Intelligence based spells. The number of spell slots you get here don’t mix with your warlock slots, but your wizard slots can be used for warlock spells and vice versa. You also get an Arcane Recovery- once per day, you can recover a number of spell slots with a combined level total of half your wizard level rounded up. I know this is a wild concept, but don’t worry, you’ll be fine.

For wizard spells, grab Fire Bolt, Ray of Frost, and Magic Missile for even more caster balls, Prestidigitation, Silent Image, Feather Fall, and Detect Magic for utility, as well as Sleep, and Silent Image to avoid combat where possible.

3. Warlock 2: Now that we doubled your spellcasting ability, we should be able to sling a few more spells as we work with the Mahatmas. Second level warlocks get Eldritch Invocations, which you can use to customize your workplace experience. Save one for later, but pick up Armor of Shadows now to save you a lot of spell slots down the road.

You also get Cause Fear, instilling fear in a single creature that fails a wisdom saving throw (its DC is 8 plus your charisma modifier plus your proficiency bonus). This is more of a “why not” spell than anything else, but it’s more things you can do.

4. Warlock 3: Third level warlocks get a Pact Boon, and the Pact of the Tome gives you a fancy new spellbook. This gives you three cantrips from any spell list, and act like warlock spells for you. Grab Guidance and Spare the Dying for even more versatility, as well as... hm, let’s say Thorn Whip, why not. You can also grab the invocation Book of Ancient Secrets, learning two ritual spells from any spell list, but you can only cast them as rituals. You can add other ritual spells to the book as you adventure, but it will cost you time and money to do so. Grab Find Familiar to make a more magical Colonel, and Unseen Servant for another way to carry your clockwork colonel around.

If you don’t want to wait around 10 minutes for one Colonel, you can also cast Flock of Familiars using your regular spellcasting to make up to three of them instead.

5. Warlock 4: Use your first Ability Score Improvement to power up your Charisma for better warlock spells. Speaking of, you also get Minor Illusion as a cantrip this level, as well as Scorching Ray.

6. Wizard 2: You didn’t think we were done with wizard, did you? The Mahatmas may have given you a cool book, but your hard work will take it to the next level as an Order of Scribes wizard. You can make a Wizardly Quill to magically erase your writing and drastically shorten the time it takes to copy spells, from two hours per level to two minutes. You can also use it to make an Awakened Spellbook. I’m pretty sure this could be the same book your warlock spells are kept in, but the final say’s up to your DM. This spellbook can act as your focus, swap damage types between wizard spells that share a level, and speed up a ritual cast from the spellbook once per long rest. 

You also pick up Charm Person and Catapult this level.

7. Warlock 5: Your spell slots go up a level and you pick up a new invocation. Grab Eyes of the Rune Keeper to make sense of the Mahatma’s teachings, and Magic Circle to protect an area from extraplanar forces. Or lock said extraplanar forces in place.

8. Warlock 6: Sixth level warlocks get a new spell, and Thunder Step gives you some extra mobility and damage. You also get an Elemental Gift from the Mahatmas, giving you resistance to fire damage, and a flying speed that you can use for 10 minutes per long rest per point of you proficiency bonus. It doesn’t say you can fly thanks to a UFO, but it doesn’t not say that, so go with what your heart says.

9. Wizard 3: Third level wizards get second level spells. Enlarge/Reduce and Web are great ways to control enemies, either shrinking them down to near uselessness or sticking them in a trap while the rest of the party sets up for hurting them.

10. Wizard 4: Use this ASI to become an Elemental Adept. You’ve got a lot of different kinds of spells, but your biggest and flashiest are Fire damage based, so this will let you ignore fire resistance, and all damage dice rolled count as at least a 2. To celebrate, grab Flaming Sphere for an Unidentified Flaming Object, as well as Hold Person and Gust to keep people over the fires and fan the flames, respectively.

11. Wizard 5: Fifth level wizards get third level spells. Clairvoyance gives you even more utility, and Counterspell is just a good spell in general.

12. Wizard 6: You can now Manifest Mind, creating another kind of Colonel that can telepathically share information with you, and can act as the source of your spells a number of times per long rest equal to your proficiency bonus. You have to use your bonus action to move it around, but it’ll remain operational at a range of 300′. You can make a Colonel this way once per long rest, or by spending a spell slot to do so.

13. Warlock 7: Seventh level warlocks get fourth level spells. There isn’t any pressing need here, so grab Phantasmal Killer, why not. You also get the Far Scribe invocation, allowing you to cast Sending to creatures who have written their name in your book without spending materials or a spell slot. You can save a number of names in your book up to your proficiency bonus.

14. Warlock 8: Let’s get Blight for the hell of it. You also get another ASI, round up your Dexterity and Intelligence for stronger wizard spells and a higher AC.

15. Warlock 9: For your fifth level spell, grab Flame Strike for a very solid UFO beam that deals fire and radiant damage. You can also make an Ascendant Step to cast Levitate on yourself at will. It’s a concentration spell, but at least it can break your fall if your Elemental Gift runs out at an inopportune time.

16. Warlock 10: Tenth level genie warlocks make a Sanctuary Vessel for themselves and allies. When you enter your Bottled Respite, up to five willing creatures can come with you. Also, staying in the vessel for at least 10 minutes acts as a short rest, and they gain additional healing if they spend hit dice in the vessel.

17. Warlock 11: At eleventh level, warlocks get a Mystic Arcanum, letting them cast a sixth level spell once per long rest. Grab True Seeing to unlock the mysteries of the world around you.

18. Warlock 12: Use your last ASI to bump up your Charisma for stronger warlock spells, and grab the invocation Eldritch Mind to make concentration a bit easier on you.

19. Warlock 13: Thanks to your seventh level Mystic Arcanum, you can now Plane Shift to the realm of the Mahatmas (Genies)!

20. Warlock 14: Your capstone level allows you to make a Limited Wish, thanks to the Mahatmas. You can cast a spell though your Vessel without using a spell slot or any components. The only requirements are that is is 6th level or lower and takes 1 action to cast. You can use this every 1d4 long rests.

Pros:

You are an unparalleled spellslinger, especially among warlocks. You can cheat spells out with wishes and rituals, regain more than your fair share on short rests, and mess around with how your spells work by swapping damage types or casting them through the colonel. You can also make some funky travel arrangements by combining mage hand, the colonel, and your Genie’s Vessel. Multiclassing with Wizard also comes with the added benefit of being able to copy spells down on top of learning them normally- thanks to your warlock slots, you can still copy wizard spells up to 5th level.

Mixing these casting classes together, plus your normal Gnome abilities, make your Intelligence, Wisdom, and Charisma saves very solid, preventing you from being charmed, frightened, or thrown into another plane.

Being able to fly is awesome. Being able to fly as a squishy wizard is even better. Being able to fly without concentration is nearly broken.

Cons:

Mixing spellcasters also leaves you without 9th level spells. Jury-rigged transport is cool and all, but it doesn’t beat just getting wish normally.

You have Low HP, so if you end up fighting someone who can shoot you out of the sky, you’re going to have a bad time. It’s also really hard to not look like the biggest target when you just burned a hole in the world with a UFO.

You rely on a lot of fragile knickknacks to make this build work- your vessel and all three kinds of colonels (mind, clockwork, and familiar) all have even lower HP than you have, and affect your ability to function to varying degrees.

[tigerkirby215]

5e Rainbow Dash, the Element of Loyalty build (My Little Pony: FIM)

(Artwork by 14-bis on DeviantArt. It’s remarkably hard to find “regular” artwork of Rainbow Dash, but it probably helps that I’m looking on DeviantArt.)

From DOTA to garbage brony shit! Anyone who’s been around either my YouTube or DeviantArt (no I’m not linking them) would know I’m a brony. It’s been awhile since I’ve watched the show but I do still genuinely love the community. Say what you will but the brony community is dedicated, artistic, and genuinely friendly.

I came up with this concept awhile ago on r/whatwouldyoubuild and once again in an attempt to branch out from League of Legends I figured I’d take a crack at probably the most iconic pony of the show. Yeah suck it Twilight you may be the main character but do you have spectrum hair?

GOALS

10 seconds flat - Rainbow needs to fly fast; fast enough to make a sonic boom of color.

Time to take out the adorable trash - SUPER ACTION HORSE; SHE REALLY KICKS!

Egghead - Rainbow’s got a colorful personality, with plenty of quips in the heat of the moment.

RACE

Pegasi fly. You know what D&D race is known for flight? Aarakocra! Flight is basically all you get as an Aarakocra, but you get to fly a whopping 50 feet as early as level 1! Other than that you get some Ability Score increases: a +2 to Dexterity but I’d suggest moving that Wisdom increase to your Charisma instead thanks to Tasha’s. The only other important thing of note is that you get Talons that do a d4 slashing damage; perhaps more of a gryphon thing but if you DM lets you deal bludgeoning damage instead you could consider these to be hooves.

If Aarakocra isn’t allowed: Flight is kinda a requirement to play Rainbow Dash, but it’s not a requirement for the build. Feel free to use whatever race you want and adapt this build to it.

Chances are if your DM isn’t allowing Aarakocra then they won’t allow other flying races like Winged Tieflings. Though I would perhaps suggest asking your DM if you can nerf the  Aarakocra’s fly speed down to 30. Because yeah: 50 foot flying speed at level 1 is kinda crazy.

ABILITY SCORES

15; STRENGTH - Applejack may be the workerpony but it takes a lot of body strength to kick the clouds into shape!

14; CONSTIUTION - Dexterity would be more in-character but Constitution is far more useful. Feel free to swap CON and DEX for better roleplay but worse health.

13; CHARISMA - I’m pretty sure RD has a solid 70% of the fan content made about her specifically.

12; DEXTERITY - Who would’ve ever guessed that flying fast takes dexterity?

10; WISDOM - Rainbow Dash can be a bit of a hot head at times, acting without thinking when her ambition gets the better of her.

8; INTELLIGENCE - Finish studying for that exam yet?

BACKGROUND

For someone who uses the Athlete feat in far too many builds it’s rather surprising that I don’t use the Athlete background from Theros more! As an Athlete you get proficiency in Athletics and Acrobatics for all sorts of aerial sports, along with a language of your choice (pick your fancy) and while you’d normally get Land Vehicles see if your DM will perhaps allow Air Vehicles?

Your main feature Echoes of Victory makes it more likely that ponies all around Equestria have heard of the great Rainbow Dash! It also allows you to participate in some sporting events to earn a living when you’re not at work clearing the clouds.

(Artwork by nightcreepmax on DeviantArt.)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - ROGUE 1

Starting off with Rogue levels because skill proficiencies are always nice! Take Perception, Persuasion, Insight, and of course Performance with a backing track by Daniel Ingram! You also get Expertise in two skills: Athletics and Acrobatics will help with Wonderbolts-tier stunts!

You learn Thieves’ Cant as a Rogue, which is like a language... but awesome, and only shared by other awesome Rogues. But of course the main appeal of a Rogue is their Sneak Attack, allowing you do an extra d6 of damage through the power of friendship! (Or having advantage on your attacks.)

You can only sneak attack with a finesse weapon but I’d suggest wielding something like a rapier and flavoring it as a really sharp horseshoe. See if your DM will allow you a bludgeoning finesse weapon.

LEVEL 2 - ROGUE 2

You’ve heard of Rainbow Dash, now get ready for Rainbow Disengage! Cunning Action lets you Dash, Disengage, or Hide as a Bonus Action.

LEVEL 3 - BARBARIAN 1

I hope you didn’t expect Rainbow Dash to be the sneaky type! Barbarians get Unarmored Defense at level 1, so you can ditch the leather jacket and instead get AC equal to your Constitution plus your Dexterity!

But of course the main appeal of playing a Barbarian is the ability to Rage with the power of friendship! You can enter a Rage as a Bonus Action for advantage on strength checks and saves, extra damage on melee attacks using strength, and resistance to bludgeoning, piercing, and slashing damage. Your Rage lasts 1 minute but ends early if you are knocked down or go a full round without attacking or being attacked.

You may note that you can only use strength for Rage’s damage bonus damage, which of course conflicts with the Rogue’s requirement for Finesse weapons... Guess what! You can use strength with Finesse weapons, meaning you can Sneak Attack with your strength!

LEVEL 4 - BARBARIAN 2

Second level Rogues get to play with danger! Reckless Attack lets you give yourself Advantage on your attack rolls at risk of enemies having Advantage against you. Now here’s where you cheat the system: if you have advantage on an attack... you can sneak attack! “Oh yeah; that is awesome.”

Additionally: do you know what helps with death-defying stunts? Looking forward. Danger Sense gives you advantage on Dexterity saving throws against effects you can see coming. So if someone throws a ball of fire at you just dodge out of the way!

LEVEL 5 - BARBARIAN 3

Third level Barbarians get to choose their Primal Path, and to smite your foes with the power of awesomeness the Path of the Zealot will let you channel a Rainboom into every hit! While raging, you can channel Divine Fury into the first target you hit to do additional damage equal to a d6 plus half your Barbarian level. The damage can be either Radiant or Necrotic; Radiant makes more sense but if you think Necrotic damage would be more useful it’s nice to have that option.

You also have the power of plot armor thanks to Warrior of the Gods. If you die you can be revived without the use of expensive diamonds, because My Little Pony is a kids’ show. Man can you imagine if they killed off one of the main characters in a kids’ show? That would be wild.

Additionally Tasha’s provided Barbarians with Primal Knowledge for some more skill proficiencies. I’m sure you picked up on some Survival skills at Wonderbolts camp; it’s good to be able to survive if you break your wings and get stranded in the wilderness.

(Artwork by radiostarkiller on DeviantArt.)

LEVEL 6 - BARBARIAN 4

4th level Barbarians get our first Ability Score Improvement: as much of a meme as taking Athlete is Resilient (Strength) is far more useful for keeping alive and avoiding danger.

LEVEL 7 - BARBARIAN 5

5th level Rogues get an Extra Attack, so you can attack twice in a round! So awesome! Additionally your movement speed increases by 10 feet thanks to Fast Movement, so you’re a little closer to reaching Sonic Rainboom speeds!

LEVEL 8 - ROGUE 3

Third level Rogues get to choose their Roguish Archetype. Man I wish there was a Rogue that was based on moving fast and taunting their foes... oh hello Swashbuckler! Swashbuckler gets two features at third level but it’s basically 3 features in total: Fancy Footwork lets you dash move normally away from a target you attempted to stab, making them unable to attack you with a reaction.

Rakish Audacity meanwhile lets you add your Charisma to your initiative rolls, and it lets you Sneak Attack an enemy in melee if they don’t have friends nearby, even if you don’t meet the requirements to Sneak Attack! Of course you could just use Reckless Attack for Advantage to Sneak Attack, but at least your Sneak Attack increases to 2d6!

LEVEL 9 - ROGUE 4

4th level Rogues get another Ability Score Improvement: more Strength will let you “kick” (read: stab) harder.

(Artwork by Skitsroom on DeviantArt.)

LEVEL 10 - ROGUE 5

5th level Rogues get Uncanny Dodge to be as potent as a pony. If you get hit on your turn by an attack you can see you can use your reaction to take half damage instead! Additionally your Sneak Attack damage increases to 3d6.

LEVEL 11 - ROGUE 6

6th level Rogues get Expertise in two more skills: Persuasion will be useful in the future, and Perception will help you mind your head.

LEVEL 12 - ROGUE 7

7th level Rogues get Evasion for some truly death-defying stunts! If you succeed on a Dexterity saving throw you’ll take no damage instead of half damage, and even if you fail your save you’ll only take half damage instead of full damage! “Danger is my middle name!” Additionally your Sneak Attack damage is now 4d6.

LEVEL 13 - ROGUE 8

8th level means another Ability Score Improvement: cap off that Strength so that you can succeed at any athletics contest. “Look ma; no wings!”

LEVEL 14 - ROGUE 9

9th level Rogues can make quips that bronies will buy tee-shirts of. Panache lets you taunt, or lets you charm! As an action, you can make a Persuasion check contested by a creature’s Insight. The creature must be able to hear you, and the two of you must share a language.

If it’s an enemy it���ll have disadvantage to hit anyone who isn’t you, which is good because you’re a bulky Barbarian girl. The effect lasts for 1 minute but ends early if one of your friends hits them.

Alternatively if that person was just some average everypony, you can charm them! Everyone’s friends with Rainbow Dash, after all! Unless you’re not, obviously. Then you can have a 5d6 Sneak Attack!

(Artwork by Dawnf1re on DeviantArt.)

LEVEL 15 - BARBARIAN 6

6th level Zealot Barbarians gain a Fanatical Focus. Once per Rage if you fail a saving throw you can reroll it, because you’re a main character and you’re just that awesome.

LEVEL 16 - BARBARIAN 7

7th level Barbarians get Feral Instinct: so you know how you’re adding your Charisma to your initiative? Well now you have advantage on initiative checks too! Additionally, being around Pinkie Pie means that you know how to react to surprises: and that reaction is to RAGE!

Additionally Tasha’s gives you Instinctive Pounce, letting you move half your movement speed when you Rage. So it’s like half a dash!

LEVEL 17 - BARBARIAN 8

8th level Barbarians get another Ability Score Improvement and I’ll leave this up to you: more Charisma will give you better initiative and an easier time taunting your foes, but more Constitution means more health and armor.

Just decide if you want to be an awesome fighter or have awesome one-liners. Either way you’ll be awesome!

(Artwork by Underpable on DeviantArt.)

LEVEL 18 - BARBARIAN 9

You know how you’re probably rolling most things with Advantage? Well Brutal Critical allows you to add an extra weapon damage die to any crit you might make. So instead of 2d8 + 12d6 + 4, it’ll be 3d8 + 12d6 + 4. “Another great feat of heroism!”

LEVEL 19 - BARBARIAN 10

10th level Zealot Barbarians are so awesome everyone else can benefit from their awesomeness. Zealous Presence will let you use your Bonus Action to give all allies within 60 feet advantage on attack rolls and saving throws until the start of your next turn. You can only use this ability once per Long Rest, so save that Rainboom to truly turn the tide!

Additionally Tasha’s Primal Knowledge gives you another skill proficiency, so take Animal Handling to take the Tank as the tank.

LEVEL 20 - BARBARIAN 11

11th level Barbarians get plot armor, because they’re in a kids’ show. If you’re knocked down to 0 HP Relentless Rage allows you to make a DC 10 CON save while raging to instead drop to 1. You can make this save multiple times but the DC increases by 5 every time and well... your Constitution isn’t exactly earth-shattering, so you’ll probably get two uses out of this at best. Still: defying death twice is more than enough to beat the bad guys! I mean probably.

FINAL BUILD

PROS

I liked it... A LOT - So. Your weapon does a d8 + 5 of damage, your Sneak Attack does 5d6, your Rage does a d6 + 8, and if you crit all your dice get multiplied and you get to add an extra d8 on top of that. In short: you can do a total of 1d8 + 6d6 + 13 damage with one hit (average of 42 damage), or 3d8 + 12d6 + 13 damage on a crit! (Average of 76 damage!)

Seriously; I’d do it for anypony - You work fine alone but the Elements of Harmony work best with friends. Panache helps you keep your friends safe and Zealous Presence lets you make them awesome!

I hate losing - You’re certainly tanky with nearly 200 health, but you know what’s exceptionally fun? Cheating death near constantly. You’ve got two chances to go down to 1 HP instead of 0 while raging, and if they do happen to knock you down Rarity won’t have to sacrifice any diamonds to bring you back! No need for a robotic Rainbow Dash today!

CONS

If I go down, I’m going down flying! - Your AC isn’t great, as you had to invest everything into Strength to be able to smash people big time. Well at least you can wear Medium Armor right? Oh wait you can’t because armor will stop you from using your wings.

Want to know the opposite of agility? That! - So I like level 1 in Rogue for skill proficiencies (by the way you have a surprising amount of them thanks to Tasha’s), but while DEX saves are really nice with both Evasion and Danger Sense you’re lacking Constitution saves. And I mean, let’s not address the elephant in the room of your pitiful Wisdom and Charisma saves.

This competition isn’t for the weak - This build is rather MAD, requiring high Strength, Constitution, Charisma, and at least 13 in DEX. I’m just saying that this might be a build you want to point buy for: put 12 into DEX (+2 from race makes it 14) and 14 in Strength, Constitution, and Charisma. Heck, you can even get one of them up to a 15 with Point Buy!

But ponies aren’t just born awesome. (I mean, they are. Have you seen that mane?) You’ve gotta work to be awesome! Fight the good fight for your friends and save Equestria from both basic friendship troubles and world-ending villains! Participate in a few races while you’re at it and maybe try to find a pet too. Heck, maybe read a book too while you’re at it. You egghead.

(Artwork by JaDeDJynX on DeviantArt.)