#mostly cause like. as a norm bias i really don’t want this to turn into another fan war 😭😭😭

[kaseyskat]

episode finished. stares into the abyss

[perspective-series]

Pet Perspective (11/19)

By: @arc852 and @hiddendreamer67

Warnings: Degrading roles, moral quandaries galore

First Chapter || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

————————————————————————————–

 Patton grinned as he set Logan down on his desk. “So! What did you want to do? Because I’ve got games, we could watch a movie or maybe just talk?” Patton listed out.

“I don’t have a particular preference.” Logan assured him. “I am willing to participate in most activities but now that I have the capacity to do so I intend on informing you when an experience becomes unpleasant.”

 Patton nodded. “Sounds good! I think a movie would be good then, just to wind down from all that sun and sugar.” Patton chuckled and opened his laptop to pick out a movie on netflix. “Are you okay here, or do you wanna move to my bed? It might be more comfortable to lay down and watch it.”

“I’m comfortable here.” Logan answered.

 “Okay!” Patton said and then looked through the movies. He hummed until he came across one he had seen before but figured Logan might enjoy watching. He pressed play on it and leaned back. “This is a good one.” Patton commented with a grin.

“What is it?” Logan raised an eyebrow.

 “It’s kind of similar to the first one we watched yesterday. But different, of course.” Patton chuckled. “Just watch, it’s starting!” Patton turned his attention back to it.

 As the movie progressed, it was clear that, just like the first movie, this was also had a pet borrower in it.

“I did not understand the first film, just as I do not understand this.” Logan looked somewhere between confused or unsettled. “Why do they feel the compulsory need to drag their borrowers along? No one wants to witness all of this courting.”

 Patton shrugged. “Well, that’s what people do with their pets. They don’t want to leave them alone, so they bring them along.” He explained.

“That seems impractical, as well as demeaning.” Logan huffed. “And on the human side of the plot, it’s unrealistic. They only knew each other for a short amount of time before confessing their love and beginning an arduous journey.”

 Patton chuckled. “Heh, yeah, a lot of movies do that. There’s only so much you can put in two and a half hours, after all.” He paused, glancing down at Logan. “And why would that be demeaning? Wouldn’t you want to be included on a trip instead of stuck at home by yourself?”

“It depends on the venture; I would much rather be left to my own devices than dragged along as an accessory for a romantic getaway.” Logan clarified.

 “I...guess I see your point.” Patton said before turning back to the movie. As it turned out, the borrower had a bigger role to play as he was tasked with delivering the wedding ring to the girl. “Oh, see! There was a reason the borrower came along!”

“Even from a cinematic point that doesn’t make sense.” Logan furrowed his brow. “They made no indication that this would be vital to their relationship- why are they highlighting it? It’s just an excuse to have the borrower in the background for the rest of the film. Not to mention, a ring of that size would be far more strenuous to carry. It’s clearly a fake.”

 “It’s romantic?” Patton said, though unsure. “And really?” It didn’t seem like it would be that heavy.

“Do you see the amount of gemstones on that ring?” Logan pointed to the screen. “And you must account for that weight of the band itself as well. Besides, the action isn’t ‘romantic’ if the borrower is not an important part of the romance itself.”

 “I mean...he’s their pet. People do that with pets all the time since they consider them part of their family and all. I’ve seen a ton of movie where dogs gave the ring. It’s not...uncommon.” Patton explained.

“It may be a common action, but that doesn’t ensure that it’s moral or practical.” Logan argued. “Is it truly acceptable if the borrower is uncomfortable or in pain?”

 Patton’s eyes widened. “N-No! Of course not...but wouldn’t the borrowers have said something then?”

“I imagine they would, but humans seldom listen.” Logan explained. “It’s why I was collared in the first place. And again, in this particular instance, I believe the act is merely staged.”

 Patton looked down, fidgeting with the sleeves of his cat hoodie. “You didn’t deserve to be shock collared.”

“That is a correct statement.” Logan agreed. “It was a violation of my basic rights and a restriction of my free speech, although there are no legal consequences for such unethical actions to my knowledge.”

 No, no there wasn’t. Patton paused the movie, turning to Logan. “Logan...do borrowers like being pets?”

Logan frowned, surprised by the question. “No, I hardly think anyone would enjoy this demeaning treatment.”

 Patton deflated and looked down. “And...I’m guessing that includes you as well?”

Logan was more confused. “Of course, it would only be natural that I would draw my conclusions from personal experience. I’ve lived my seventeen years completely in entrapment, either of a cruel or neutral nature. A borrower existence is not particularly pleasant.”

 Patton felt tears prick the corners of his eyes. “W-We were always taught...that borrowers needed to be looked after. That they liked being pets...I never thought twice about it…” How could he not have?

Now Logan was downright startled, with no knowledge of how to possibly approach this situation. It was a clearly ridiculous belief, but Logan worried if he stated such he might send Patton further into this worrying spiral. “Why are you crying?”

 “B-Because…” Logan’s question only caused him to cry more. “I...I should have realized sooner. We-We all should have! I don’t...you aren’t…” Patton could barely get any words out as he wiped at his eyes. Was the world really so cruel that it had convinced so many people that this was okay. Even...even him.

“Patton, what are you attempting to communicate?” Logan pressed.

 Patton’s heart beat rapidly inside his chest as he lowered his hands and stared openly at Logan. “You’re...You’re a person.” And saying it out loud, something he really should have known all along, caused him to cry again.

Logan’s eyes darted around, desperate for a way out of this uncomfortable situation. “Given your reaction, I assume this is a new revelation then?”

 Patton nodded. “I know...that’s so bad! I...I should have realized...from the beginning.” He met Logan’s eyes. “I’m...I’m so sorry, Logan.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Logan felt exasperated. “And was it not obvious from my identical anatomy, ability to speak and rational thought?”

 “It...should have been, huh?” Patton continued to wipe his eyes, slowly calming himself down. “I’m apologizing...because yeah, I should have realized it sooner. Like...forever ago. But I...didn’t. And a part of me wants to blame the world but...it’s also on me too, isn’t it?” He sniffed.

“Perhaps; it’s a complex issue of societal norms and personal bias- I’m sorry, what exactly does this mean?” Logan asked. “I understand and appreciate your delayed epiphany that I’m hardly different from a human being, but how does this affect this relationship going forward?”

 Patton blinked, that was a good question. “Well...what do you want? Like, truly want. If...If that’s letting you go and living free then...I’ll let you go. Because you deserve to make your own decisions now.”

Logan blinked. That was… a lot of pressure. Logan had never even considered what he wanted for his future, knowing it was not his choice to make; rather, Logan was content to fight his battles moment to moment. 

“I...would not know the first thing about survival if I were released.” Logan admitted, slowly remembering his conversation with Roman earlier.

 “Oh...right, I guess you wouldn’t, growing up in captivity huh?” Patton bit his lip. “You could...stay with me?”

“Up until now I had assumed that was the default.” Logan scuffed his shoe against the desk. Was that what he wanted? It wasn’t terrible here, but Logan had never been given such a choice before. He had no idea what options were available.

 “You don’t have to! This is your decision after all and you don’t have to answer now but if you do stay...I promise to not treat you like a pet anymore.” Patton promised, putting his hands over his heart.

The complete 180 change baffled Logan. “I honestly do not know what I want… but I was content to stay here before your revelation, and my position on the matter has not changed.”

 Patton nodded. “Okay...Just let me know if you ever change your mind. And! Feel free to speak your mind. Whenever. Don’t think of yourself as a pet anymore but like a...a roommate!” Patton exclaimed with a grin.

“A roommate.” Logan tried out the term. It was certainly odd- the only arrangement like that Logan could have pictured prior was if Patton got a second borrower and had them share an enclosure.

 “Yeah! It’ll be fun! And I...I won’t lock the enclosure anymore. It’ll just be your room. I could...I could even move it into the guest bedroom, if you wanted more privacy.” Patton suggested. He wanted Logan to feel as comfortable as possible.

“There’s a guest bedroom?” Logan seemed surprised by this knowledge. 

 “Yeah! We like to have it in case any family or friends come over. Although that rarely happens and we mostly use it for storage.” Patton laughed, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “But we can turn it into your room if you wanted!”

“I do not require that much space… the privacy might be intriguing but it would likely be most convenient to stay here, if I’m not intruding.” Once again, Logan was at a loss as to what to choose.

 “Of course you’re not. Like I said, it’s all up to you. I’d be happy to have you stay in here with me.” Patton grinned. In fact, he was happy Logan wanted to stay at all.

“This is… a lot to process.” Logan admitted. “Change can be overwhelming. For now, I think it would be most ideal to stick closely to the routine that was in development.”

 Patton slowly nodded. “Okay. I think we can do that.” He grinned. “Did you want to watch another movie?” Patton suggested. “One without borrowers acting as pets?”

“That would be acceptable.” Logan agreed. “Although preferably one with a more intriguing and believable plot.”

 Patton chuckled. “I...think I might know of one.” He searched netflix and chose Big Hero 6. He grinned and pressed play. 

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

 When Virgil got back from his second exam, he was ready to never go to school again and to stay in his room forever. The test had been hard and he was just happy it was over. He went up the stairs, hearing the sound coming from Patton’s room and smiling slightly at the tell signs of Big Hero 6. He rolled his eyes fondly before entering his room.

 “Roman, I’m back.” He said as he set his bag down by his desk. He looked into Roman’s enclosure. Frowning when he didn’t see any lights on. “Roman?” He pushed the button to unlock the house but instead, he heard the click of it locking. His eyes widened.

 He hadn’t locked it before he left.

 Worry coursed through him and he unlocked it again and opened the enclosure up. “Roman? Come on dude, where are you?” He looked in every room, even took a peek in the bathroom despite himself but there was no one there.

 Had...had Roman actually left. Even after he had promised? No...No, maybe Roman was just with Patton? Yeah, that had to be it! Patton must have come in and offered Roman a chance to get in on the movie marathon him and Logan planned on having. He’ll walk into Patton’s room and Roman will be there. Virgil was overreacting, as always.

 But when Virgil went into Patton’s room and looked around, the only borrower he saw was Logan. 

 “Kiddo?” Patton asked, gaining his attention. The movie had been paused and Patton was now focused on him, eyebrows furrowed. “What happened? Is something wrong?”

 “I…” Virgil ran a hand down his face. “I think...I think Roman is gone…”

 Patton blinked. “W-What?”

“Gone?” Logan furrowed his eyebrows. “Gone...where?”

 “I don’t know!” Virgil admitted. “I-I forgot to lock his enclosure but he had promised that he wouldn’t leave and now he could be anywhere and-”

 “Whoa! Kiddo, calm down.” Patton interrupted, standing up and placing a comforting and grounding hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “Maybe he just decided to take a walk around the house?”

 Virgil let out a deep breath. “Y-Yeah...maybe.” That could be it.

 Patton nodded. “We’ll help you look for him. Right, Logan?”

Logan paused, suddenly remembering the brief and confusing interaction he had with Roman earlier in the day.

“Do you want to get out of here? … You, me, freedom… we can live our own lives, away from all the humans…”

Logan felt conflicted. On the one hand, Roman was quite obnoxious and he didn’t owe Roman anything. On the other hand, Patton was beginning to prove himself trustworthy but he was still human. Should he tell Patton what he heard? But wasn’t it cruel to drag Roman back here if he wanted to go? Patton had been willing to release Logan, and just because he was incapable didn’t mean Roman was- in fact, Logan felt almost a bit hurt Roman hadn’t brought him along because Logan would have wanted to be a valuable ally.

 When Patton didn’t hear anything, he turned to look at Logan. “Logan?”

Logan jumped, realizing he had forgotten to answer. “I don’t see how I would be of much use.” Logan decided. “You two can certainly cover more ground than myself.”

 “True but you are the only one of us to be able to fit in places Roman would be able to fit in.” Patton said. Virgil, for his part, was bouncing back and forth on his feet. He was both impatient and panicking. 

 “I’m going to start looking.” Virgil announced and went back to his room to scope it out. Patton wanted to help but he turned back to Logan first to see what he would say.

“I can certainly investigate where you see fit.” Logan agreed hesitantly, feeling uncertain if he had a moral obligation to ‘out’ Roman should the borrower be found. “But I still see little to no point.”

 Patton smiled and held out his hand for Logan.

Logan climbed on, wondering why he felt such a pit of dread in his stomach. He hoped Roman would remain undiscovered so Logan wouldn’t have to make a decision.

 The three searched the entire house. When Virgil found no sign of Roman in his room, he scoped out the rest of the second floor, Patton sticking to the first. Logan helped a little with places like underneath the couch and behind the bookshelf but still, Roman wasn’t found. 

 It had been hours at this point. The sun was starting to set and Virgil paced back and forth, pulling at his hair in worry. “Where could he be?! We searched the whole house and he isn’t…” He wasn’t here.

 Patton frowned and looked around. “Do you think...he got outside?”

 Virgil snapped his head over to Patton. “I...well, I mean, if he isn’t in the house…” Where else could he have gone? Virgil’s heart fell as he realized Roman really did escape. Breaking his ‘promise’. 

 ...Could Virgil really blame him though?

 “Maybe he’s still near the house? We could look outside before it gets too dark?” Patton suggested and Virgil nodded numbly. He had a feeling Roman wouldn’t be found, though.

 They went to the front door and Virgil cupped his hands over his mouth. “Roman!”

“How will we spot him in the darkness if he does not want to be found?” Logan asked quietly.

 Patton bit his lip. Logan did have a point.

 But Virgil just shook his head. “No, we...we have to find him. It’s...it’s not safe out here.” There were a number of dangers, including other humans that could just up and pick Roman up and then Virgil really would never see him again.

 “Come on, we’ll use our phone flashlights.” Virgil said, already taking his out and crouching to search through the bushes. Patton sighed but took out his phone, and started searching too, still holding Logan in his free hand.

 Two more hours passed...and Roman hadn’t been found. The humans and borrower piled back into the house as night had fully taken over. Patton looked over at Virgil sadly as Virgil through his hair, pulling at it harshly.

 “Virgil-”

 “I just don’t understand. I thought we were getting along! Why would he...why would he just leave like that?” Virgil yelled, placing his head in his hands.

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

Logan tensed, the raised human voice putting him on edge. “What… what gave you the indication you were getting along?”

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

 Virgil glanced over at Logan. “We talked, he told me things about his past...and we had fun playing games...at least, I thought we were having fun.” But if Roman had still decided to escape then maybe it had all been an act. The thought made Virgil’s heart drop.

“And when did all that occur?” Logan asked, trying to piece together the timeline to see where his conversation this morning fell.

 “Last night was when we talked. Earlier today we were playing uno and talking a bit more.” Virgil revealed. “Which is why I’m so confused. Was Roman just...acting then?” Could he even believe anything Roman had told him? But...he had sounded so sincere.

 “I’m so sorry, kiddo.” Patton said, placing his free hand on Virgil’s arm.

Logan bit his lip, uncertain. It was clear Roman was an excellent actor, given the performance he would put on for the humans versus when they were alone. Not to mention, he had a habit of making some jest at Logan and then turning around and acting all innocent to cover up. Logan didn’t know what to believe about his fellow borrower. 

 “I think...I think we should head to bed. It’s getting late.” Patton suggested gently but Virgil still whirled around to him, eyes wide.

 “What? No! We have to keep looking!” Virgil tried to pull away but Patton held onto him.

 “Virgil, it’s already late. I hate it as much as you but there isn’t anything we can do. Not at this hour. Maybe in the morning you can call the shelter?” Patton said with a gentle smile. Virgil stared at him for a moment before deflating.

 “How do you even expect me to sleep?” He was still so worried.

 Patton winced. “I know but...please just try? You won’t find him if your exhausted.” 

 Patton, of course, had a point but that didn’t mean Virgil liked it any better. But he sighed and gave in. “Fine. But I’m getting up early.” Patton nodded. That was fine by him, as long as Virgil got a few hours of sleep.

 “Alright, goodnight Virgil.” Patton said, before heading up the stairs with Logan in hand. 

 Virgil thought about following him up but he glanced towards the living room he was in. It...was possible they could have missed a few places? Virgil took out his phone flashlight, silently apologized to Patton and proceeded to continue his search.

[sanguinariae]

I was tagged by @muddyviolets - thank you so much!

1. NAME: Brianna

2: NICKNAME: Bree, mostly. I think I prefer it sometimes! But I’m too shy to start going by it.

3. ZODIAC SIGN: Capricorn (someone who’s more well-versed in astrology explain to me how that’s possible. Hard-working? Determined? Where?)

4. HEIGHT: 5′ 3″

5. LANGUAGES SPOKEN: English.

6. NATIONALITY: American.

7. FAVOURITE SEASON: Spring or fall - mostly spring.

8. FAVOURITE FLOWERS: There’s so much context this depends on. Flowers I find growing on a walk? Flowers I’ve been given in a bouquet? Flowers I’m turning into a perfume or pressing into cookies? Now that I write this all out, I realize the obvious answer is violets. My instagram name is a species of violet - they tick all my boxes. But it’s worth adding the other flowers that capture my heart: bloodroot (wondering where my blog name comes from?), goldenrod (one of my tattooos), carnations (birth flower - my parents sent me a bouquet on my 16th birthday, and I kept those dried flowers for weeks and it solidifies by love of plants), grape hyacinth, roses, skunk cabbage (this counts, this fucking counts - and there’s really two species I’m thinking of called skunk cabbage, but both of them have crazy inflorescences). 

9. FAVOURITE SCENTS: Old paper, vanilla, dry leaves. The air after a storm. And this mystery cologne that I’ll forget about until I catch a whiff of it on somebody on the street - I’d do blood magic to find out what it is. I can’t even describe it, but I wanna smell like it all the time.

10. FAVOURITE COLOURS: Burgundy, green, black.

11. FAVOURITE ANIMALS: I don’t even know if I can pick! I love them all. I’m sure I’ve got a vertebrate bias - particularly mammals and reptiles. If I had to pick one I guess I’d say the tuatara - the first time I saw one I started sobbing. Mason bees are a close second.

12. FAVOURITE FICTIONAL CHARACTERS: I’m gonna go with the characters I’ve been a fan of for years: Poison Ivy, Black Widow, Morgan le Fay, Ophelia. I guess I’m a fan of eccentric detective-type characters, too: Dale Cooper from Twin Peaks, Will Graham from Hannibal, Sherlock Holmes (favorite versions: Basil Rathbone, Matt Frewer and Johnny Lee Miller. I wanna fight about it)

13. COFFEE, TEA, OR HOT CHOCOLATE: Coffee. I used to be a big tea drinker, but now I’ll find myself brewing a pot of coffee in the evening just ‘cause nothing quenches my thirst like that bitter bitter bean juice.

14. AVERAGE SLEEP HOURS: Phew, we talking before COVID-19 or now? I usually fell asleep by midnight and slept until 10:00 on days I didn’t have a class to teach or something. Now it’s all over the place - I’ve been oscillating between waking up at 8AM and waking up at 1PM, which then influences whether I fall asleep at 11PM or 3AM. It always seems to settle in about ten hours a night (which I tried to fight tooth and nail until my therapist suggested that maybe that’s just my norm. Now I’ve just gotta settle which ten hours)

15. DOG PERSON OR CAT PERSON: I’d say dog person, just because I’ve been around dogs most of my life - both my parents were allergic to cats. My dog and I are so similar it’s distressing.

16. NUMBER OF BLANKETS YOU SLEEP WITH: One, technically? A flat sheet, a thin blanket and a comforter if it’s cold out. I’d love to drown in fabric every night but I sweat in my sleep.

17. DREAM TRIPS: Fuck, I don’t even know. I have some places I know I want to go, but if the sky’s the limit I don’t know if they’re the dream. I’d love to do a tour of all the national parks in the US. But the only country I’ve been aside from the US is New Zealand, and there are plenty of other places I want to go.

18. BLOG ESTABLISHED: This one specifically? Probably in 2017. I had a blog on here around nine years ago, but I deleted it in a depressive fit. Unwilling to share any of my former blog names here because I have shame 👀

19. FOLLOWERS: 65

20. RANDOM FACTS: A cat gave birth in the passenger seat of my car once; none of her kittens made it and I didn’t get to keep her. I had a twin but we were two months premature and he died a week after we were born. (I just realized these are pretty dark). I have a scar on my abdomen and a birth mark on my ankle, three tattoos and thirteen piercings. I’m working on a Ph.D. in ecology - time will tell if I actually earn it.

I’ll tag @purzelbaumm, @mooonborne, @odetowanderers, anyone who’d like to fill this out.

[dontshootmespence]

The Beauty in the Library

A/N: A request from @1-insert-name-here-1 for a fic where Spencer asks out the reader by using a specific line, and then cute fluff happens. I haven’t done both reader and Spencer being super awkward in a while, so that’s what needed to happen. lol. @coveofmemories @sexualemobitch @jamiemelyn

                                                               ----

You were...awkward - to say the least. Honestly, it was a wonder you managed to do your job as a librarian with your awkward mannerisms. The upside of your position was that you mostly worked with children; it was much easier to be yourself around them than adults. On the off chance you got an adult reader in the library, you’d hand off checking them out to the nice old lady you worked with or you’d avoid eye contact and give them a mousy, quiet goodbye as they headed out the door. 

For the most part, you didn’t have consistent patrons - with the exception of a couple of local teachers, some elderly people, and one man. Through overhearing phone calls, you surmised he worked for the government, but on the rare occasions he’d sit in the library, you noticed the speed with which he read. It was fascinating; he could literally devour two or three lengthy books in a couple of hours. As a reader yourself, it made you like him more.

Once, he’d come in with a man as tall as him, rippling the muscles and shining a brilliant smile. That man, Morgan you believed, had called him Reid, which could’ve been a first or last name, but either way it suited him. Since you were super awkward, you hadn’t had many romantic relationships, or even casual sexual encounters - you were just so awkward it was rare that people paid attention to you. And honestly you were content to sit on the sidelines of romance until someone really struck your fancy.

He had.

At least physically even if you didn’t know him otherwise.

Reid was tall and carried some slight muscle. His jaw was soft yet angular and his smile sent butterflies through your stomach. Whenever you did manage to catch his gaze, his eyes shone, even under the dimmed lights of the library, and much to your joy, his voice was soft - at least he had what you called library voice. You had to confess you’d imagined him reading to you with that voice on more than one occasion.

Today was a day like any other day. Signing for packages, taking phone calls about how many cents someone owed on a late fee, and checking out the occasional DVD were the norm for you, so it took you by surprise when the lanky, geeky man known as Reid came in one Saturday morning. 

As he always did, he walked into the classics section, picking up books he’d read countless times before and sat at the table he frequented. There was no one else here for a few hours, so if he needed to check something out you would need to take care of him. 

Nearly two hours later, he stood up from his table and tucked a strand of long, light brown hair behind his ear before heading over toward you. “Hi,” he said softly, placing a book on the counter. It was a copy of War and Peace that someone had donated years back. It was in Russian, but you’d found the cover so interesting you’d put it on the shelves despite it not being in English.

“You can read Russian?” you asked impressively, trying so hard to hide the blush forming on your face.

He gently nodded his head. You opened the book and checked it out, sliding it back to him. You noticed the name on the card inside. It was Spencer Reid. So that was his first name. “I hope you enjoy your War and Peace in Russian, Spencer Reid.”

“I will,” he smiled, turning away before stopping in his tracks. “I have no idea how to go about things like this, but do you happen to be in a romantic or sexual relationship at the moment?”

Taken aback, your mouth dropped open. “No, I’m not. Would you like to know my name first?” He was as awkward as you. Thank god. You extended your hand and introduced yourself. “I’m not going to lie, I’ve been hoping you’d ask me out for a while now. Maybe we could go grab a bite to eat in a couple hours when I get out?”

The fiercest rosiness spread across his cheeks as his lips scrunched up into an embarrassed smile. “I’d like that,” he said. “I’ll see you in a couple hours then?”

You nodded and watched as he walked out the door with his book in hand. Once you were sure he’d stepped out you did a little dance in front of the computer. The next two hours needed to go by quickly. It was barely a half hour later that Spencer returned with a paper bag in hand. “When I left I realized I didn’t want to wait, and I know you don’t have many people in on a Saturday.” He placed the bag on the counter and opened it, passing you a bowl of creamy soup from the diner down the street, as well as a bottle of Snapple ice tea - the kind you liked. After noticing the look on your face, he explained himself. “I’m in here a lot and I know you like the diner, so I figured I’d grab some food and we could get to know each other now.”

“That sounds great to me,” you said, forming your hands around the styrofoam bowl and taking in its warmth. “Can I ask how fast you can read? I can’t help but notice how many books you devour when you’re in here?”

“I can read 20,000 words per minute,” he said. That little fact nearly caused your eyes to pop out of your head. He went on to tell you about his eidetic memory, his IQ, his job with the FBI (so you had been right about a government job) and all of the killers he’d helped to track down.

During your entire back and forth about his job, you only needed to check out a DVD for an older man before returning your attention to Spencer. “Well I have to confess my job isn’t anywhere near as interesting, but I love books, so I’m comfortable here.”

“You remind me of my favorite Disney princess,” he smiled. “The beauty in the library.”

“Belle?” You blushed.

Spencer nodded, a nervous laugh choking out of him before you broke the silence again. “I get that a lot, not the beauty part, but the Belle part, and she’s definitely in my top three. They tend to change depending on the day. So I’ll take that. I love reading, being read to - it’s just soothing. I’m rambling. Sorry.” 

“What’s your favorite book?” he asked. “Do you have it here?” 

“That’s like asking a parent to pick a favorite child!” you exclaimed, clapping your hands over your mouth when you realized how loud you were. Spencer laughed and said to name a few. “Again, it changes depending on the day, but I love Lord of the Rings, One Thousand and One Nights, A Bend in the River, anything by Arthur Conan Doyle, Tess of the D’Urbervilles...” You rambled on and on, watching his smile grow wider and wider. 

You continued to recount the myriad of books you loved as Spencer ran up the stairs and returned with a book - Tess of the D’Urbervilles. There was a special place in your heart for that one considering you’d done your undergraduate thesis on it. “You said you like being read to?” he questioned.

When you nodded, he smiled and opened the book to the first page, the soft, library voice emanating from his perfect pink lips. You got lost in the feathery lightness as he started to speak. 

On an evening in the latter part of May a middle-aged man was walking homeward from Shaston to the village of Marlott, in the adjoining Vale of Blakemore or Blackmoor. The pair of legs that carried him were rickety, and there was a bias in his gait which inclined him somewhat to the left of a straight line.

[realtalk-princeton]

I'm very feminine (dressy, long hair, etc.) and am in classes with mostly guys/ male professors. They don't take me seriously (i.e. they objectify me as the token girl and act like I need academic help or dismiss my comments).I'm really studious/ nerdy but I feel like no one around me is willing to see this because of my looks. Instead, they make assumptions that I'm dumb, and academically weak. Without completely changing my style/ vibe what can I do to assert myself better in class?

Response from Sulpicia:

Sexism: you love to see it. Unfortunately, in situations like these, your efforts to e taken seriously are coming up against years (and sometimes decades) of misogynist societal conditioning, which is reinforced by the fact that your field is (presumably) very male-dominated. In environments that are more gender-balanced or where women are the majority, men who work every day with smart women eventually *have* to recognize that their gender biases are dumb (hopefully, at least), while men who don’t are in spaces where their implicit/explicit biases can fester, especially because they’re not necessarily seeing a daily contradiction to their belief that “women can’t do X.” While there are really noxious people in these fields, I don’t know if everyone is always a bad-faith actor; obviously bias is often not explicit, and it may be that they don’t understand how their behavior is hurting you.

One of the most challenging things about being the only person of a given identity group in a room/department/other environment is the pressure to be perfect. For those whose identities are marginalized in a given space, exceptionalism has to be the norm. Of course, there are lots of exceptional people from “majority” groups, but there are also so many more mediocre people as well. It shouldn’t even matter how smart you are in a given classroom; you deserve to be there every day, even when you don’t get the homework or the lecture or are just not feeling 100%. I’m not going to suggest that the guys in your class don’t feel imposter syndrome, but it should be okay for everyone to be mediocre sometimes (or all the time).

Unfortunately, I don’t know if there are any real answers, because women (and people of other marginalized identities, although I don’t want to speak to those experiences) experience this in many fields. I think one concrete thing you can do is try to assert yourself in conversation. If somebody turns to you as the “token girl” or makes a sexist comment (politely) challenge their position. If somebody makes an assumption about you not understanding something, ask them “Why do you think that?” If somebody repeats your contribution to the class or tries to cut you off, you can say something like “Thank you, that’s what I just said,” or “Please let me finish.” It sucks and it’s hard (not to mention scary when professors can have a big say on your grade/future in the field) but just bluntly calling out incidents of bias can sometimes cause people to reconsider themselves.

I would also potentially try to find a female role model in the field and ask her what her experiences have been. Some women in male-dominated fields adopt a more androgynous aesthetic, while others lean into a very feminine one (I remember reading once about a geologist with an all-pink field kit); there’s no correct answer, and also there shouldn’t be one because people should dress how they dress. Also, if this is a big pervasive thing, you can always gather evidence and make a formal complaint to the university. Sadly, these complaints don’t usually change things, but could potentially cause some forward progress for the department.

[cooltyrantface]

Hit me below the belt

One of the rules of the Gentleman club is: Find you a girl that is a Times Roman in the streets and a verdana in the sheets.

That girl was (supposedly) Nelly (like the rapper). [there was quite some resemblance between her and Nelly the Rapper, otherwise my brain was playing tricks on me(again) on some cause-relate bias]

We met at Rotaract, but I initially saw her at AIESEC. It was her first time, and probably her last time. She told me: “I found it boring”, which personally was kind of ironic considering how actually boring I think Rotaract is, and as a former AIESECer, id say those were the good times. It was lit.

These things are relative, and had she stuck around the MSS, her experience might have been different. She was also the VP of Rotaract so brand loyalty? She had to root for her team and disparage the other (competing) team.

We saw each shortly after that during the Journey meeting. The one that had an African theme. The Thursday Jeremy had come around for a sleepover, and I had either deliberately or circumstancially (I don't know) showed up anyways in the Leopard print coat, the grey shirt and the SONY headphones.

It was chance. I was dressed up for the party. I was oozing in confidence and totally had a time of my life. I cheered, rather too loud for my norm. I sat on the writing board on those JKUAT seats with this girl, appraising the models, judging the performances, watching everything.

After the event, there was a small sort of after-party. There was a DJ turning tables, then the rest of us on the dance floor (the cleared center stage of CLB 00-something) were in two crews, facing each other like a dance-off, though it wasn't a competition. We were just having fun, from the hype guys on the front row showing the rest of us the dance styles to move to the songs. I was on the front row but more like a cheerleader.

We danced like crazy, and I especially, with my two left feet and sedentary lifestyle was making a fool of myself and sweating through every pore and every hole. Nobody seemed to care, especially me. I was watching her on the other side and she was sweating too. She was smiling too, with those demonic eyes that make me want to do some very bad things to her. (Cue in MGK and Camilla Cabello).

Since then I had seen her around, on various occasions, around my place in Gate A. She lived nearby. We passed each other on the streets, barely a word being said between us, only exchanging looks that hinted recognition. That went on for months, until a few weeks ago…

It was a Monday evening. I had been invited for the Rotaract meeting by Fatuma (more about her later) who was also an official at the club. I accepted the invitation.

I entered the room half an hour past seven; a little tardy by all standards; a little drunk after a drinking session with my bud Ron. I sauntered into the room like a Russian spy and sat quitly on the closest a available seat. I sat for close to an hour and a half, listening to this guy talk about his fashion business, then through a Q & A session (I asked him the current state of the fashion industry and how it can be improved, but my brain was too intoxicated to absorb anything close to unrehearsed mumble-jumble of a reply. He was a cool guy though, and his outfits were terrific!), then followed the procedures to the conclusion. I ended the matter in a style and a fashion, a little sobered up, contrary to my late entrance.

After the meeting was over, I tapped this girl on her shoulder and began making a conversation.

“Hi”

“Hi”

“ You had a question for the presenter of the day? I saw you raise your hand but he didn't pick you out. What was that question?” I went on.

She told me, though I can't quite remember. Something generic.

The idea was to take her hand and take her to the Fashion guy, and after she asked away, I'd add some some smart talk and impress her, then take her home. No. Take her number and ask her to come and see me sometime. My mind was on some other girl.

The Fashion Guy had disappeared.

“My name is KK, what's yours?”

“Christine”

“That's a beautiful name…

[“Thank you”].

[We exchanged contacts].

Let's get out of here. It's kind of noisy.”

“ I'm sorry. I have something I have to do before I leave.” She declined.

“Are you an official here? Like do you have club responsibilities?”

“ No, actually. I just help serve the coffee.”

“ I want some…” I blurted out.

She sold me coffee, then a few seconds later announced that it was on-house. The fuck! “You sold me free coffee!” I didn't really mind though, it was just ten-shillings for some shitty tasting coffee in a miniscule plastic cup. A coffee tot.

The girl that was on my mind had been at the center of the room posing for pictures all this while. Then next thing I knew, she was gone. It was time to go. I was outta there.

I got out of the room into the cold air of the night, stepped onto the veranda and circled around the staircase to the other side of the complex and then I saw her! I hopped. I flagged her and her friend.

“Hey. It's you that I wanted to talk to.”

She turned her head ever so gently and gave me the most lady-like smile I have ever received in my life.

She stopped walking and I stood in front of her, looking into her eyes. Then,

“This is going to sound like the corniest thing you have ever had, but you look very familiar. Have I seen you somewhere? I just want to get you out of my mind.”

That smile. That damn smile. We started walking again, talking. I told her my name. She asked, “KK stands for?”

“Kennedy Karanja,” I answered, putting the accent in the right place, like a true son of Mumbi.

“Shee.”

“Haha. Like S-H-E? She?”

“S-H-E-E!”

“yeah, right. Is that your real name or your stage name?” I teased.

“My name is Magdalene Wanjiku(no accent), but my friends call me Shee”

I asked her what she did for fun. Apparently, Netflix and Chill is the most fun she has for days, semester in, semester out. I had other ideas, so I put my arms around her to drive a point. Touching.

She backed away slightly, but then kept coming back. I told her I was a rapper. She was impressed. She asked for a sample, which I had to produce. We had to stand as I scrolled through my Twitter for my SoundCloud. Umm...tweets from last year...mostly rants. Tweets from some past I was depressed. Tweets from a remote history when I didn't have an idea what Twitter was for...then I found it! CABBAGES!

That was a banger. By Kenyan standards. If it was well mastered and mixed and promoted, by all standards.

That's how I got my number one fan. She complemented my voice and I saw in her eyes she was falling for me. She was tripping for me. She said she could sing too.

“Well then, try this:

1-2-5 tuko 4-2-0,

Juja-maica tuko maji tuko H-2-0.”

“125 tuko 5-2-oh!

Juja-maica tuko maji tuko H-2-O”

Impressive!

That's was just her first take. I imagine the future would lit for this gyal should she decide to pick music as a career. But she sings in the choir.

“I was choir-one in high school” she chimes in just as I am about to blah-blah-blah my complements.

We were so long lost in conversing that realizing we had finally reached Gate C came as a rude shocker.

“This is where we say goodbye. But before you go there is something I'd like to say”

I took a breath and gave the conversation a breather.

Then I said the most absurd words she has ever heard come out of a human mouth. I spoke like a dragon of a human,

“ I want to fuck you and make you my bitch.”

She stepped back in shock. I had lifted some rapper's lyrics and quoted them verbatim. I said those words so casually, in the midst of witnesses and eavesdropping passers-by. She retreated back to her shell; no longer smiling; no more of those eyes. Those damn eyes!

I was left to my own mental space, finally realizing the gravity of my stupidity yet ambivalently confident in my aggressive approach. Little did I know that this woman that I was prospecting to fuck and do bad things to was born-again. Jesus Christ, who is the freak now?

I had to hastily say my goodbyes and leave with my tail wagging between my legs, the defeated dog that I had turned into. Back into school, back to CLB - I had to claim my prize. My final option. It was her.

Remember how I implied that she was a Times News Roman in the streets but a Verdana in the sheets? I had to find out. I trekked at a marcher's pace and trotted at a runner's pace.

When I made my re-entry, I was lucky she was one of the few people that had been left, and had I been a few seconds later she would have vanished. I went straight to her and we hit it off.

“i wanted to nominate you for the Fashion adjudicator's award. You're minimalist, but you still look stylish. Real stylish.”

She looked down, half inspecting her outfit, half blushing at this stranger’s kind words, then rebuffed with a “ ah! I dont know.”

[mobileautorepairpros]

Road Tests: 2018 Audi TT RS

Vital Statistics

Engine: 2.5 liter

Horsepower: 400

Torque: 354 lb-ft.

0-60 mph: 3.2 seconds

1/4 mile: 11.7 seconds @ 118 mph

EPA: 19 mpg city / 29 mpg highway

Energy Impact: 15.0 barrels of oil/yr

CO2 Emissions: 6.5 tons/yr

It seems that ever since the Audi TT debuted, it has been trying to break free from a cute and cuddly stereotype. Indeed, Audi has put a lot of effort into making the TT a legitimate sports car, adding supercar elements from the R8 along the way. So we might even call the latest TT an R4! But Audi went with TT RS. Regardless, it is the most powerful production TT yet. 

The 3rd generation Audi TT arrived for 2016, on Volkswagen’s then new MQB architecture. It was undeniably more fun than ever, yet still more of a Golf Coupe with all of the trimmings than an outright performance car. 

And while we can still see shades of Beetle cuteness, there is ever more high-performance menace lurking beneath all of the RS’s still adorable curves. 

Exterior RS add-ons are relatively minor, but very noticeable; including oval exhaust outlets, a big fixed rear wing, red brake calipers, and matte aluminum optic trim; unless of course you choose to replace it with our car’s gloss black trim. 

The smooth-running 2.5-liter turbo under the hood is technically not a new design, but it does feature an aluminum block now. Thus, the 5-cylinder weighs less and outputs more; 400-horsepower and 354 lb.-ft. of torque. We’ll stop short of saying it sounds awesome, but with the available sport exhaust system, it truly has a unique roar that is mostly pleasing to the ears. 

No manual transmission is available, but the 7-speed S tronic DCT comes with paddle shifters on the wheel, and works well enough to keep us from complaining about that too much. 

The TT RS’ Haldex all-wheel-drive system is similar to the one found in Volkswagen’s Golf R, which means less front bias and less tendency to understeer. 

In somewhat of a reversal of the norm, it’s the magnetic ride dampers that are standard; the Dynamic Plus upgrade does away with them, going back to conventional shocks with fixed-rate springs. I guess Audi wants to make sure you are up for the lower ride height and stiffer ride that comes with the improved handling aspects. 19 or 20-inch wheels don’t really help the comfort cause either. 

Even ceramic brakes are available. Our car wasn’t so equipped, but still brought us to a halt from 60 in 112-feet, with laser-like stability. 

We could have used a little more feedback trough the pedal, as well as from the front end when we took to our cone course. Here, it stays noticeably flatter than the TTS, and is perhaps a little more eager to turn in; understeer has been eliminated, but otherwise not a vastly different TT experience. 

What does set it apart, is the additional power. A flawless Porsche-like launch mode had us effortlessly hitting low three second 0-60s all day without breaking a sweat; including a best run of 3.2.

Firm, all-business gear transactions result in non-stop torque delivery until you finish the ¼-mile in 11.7-seconds at 118 miles-per-hour. 

And you don’t have to be guns-a-blazin’ for it to put a smile on your face, any quick break in traffic can do that; and while firm, the ride is certainly not a teeth jarring one. 

There is plenty of Audi awesomeness inside to appreciate. Besides the usual virtual cockpit, climate control integrated into the circular vents, and quilted seats; you’ll find a new flat-bottom steering wheel with the start button and drive select mounted right on it, carbon-fiber trim, and red accents.

One small gripe, with the backup camera display located in the gauge cluster, it tends to get blocked when you’re working the wheel. 

Government Fuel Economy Ratings are 19-City, 29-Highway, and 22-Combined; so our 25.9 miles-per-gallon average on Premium was not bad at all. Though there’s a slightly below average Energy Impact Score of 15.0-barrels of annual petroleum consumption, with 6.5-tons of CO2 emitted. 

The TT RS Coupe is total fun, until you realize you can get a mid-engine Porsche Cayman S for about the same base sticker of $65,875. And sorry Audi, we think the Cayman’s even more fun.  

And that may not be a coincidence, as both companies do come under the same corporate umbrella, and perhaps they don’t want an Audi overshadowing a Porsche. And it’s not only the Cayman they have to deal with, as there’s a wide variety of other performance cars near its price point. But, no doubt the 2018 TT RS is a more serious car than before, and clearly belongs in any sports car conversation.

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