#so it just sucks that this is the semester when i am struggling the most physically bc i’m missing out on being around them fully | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

junedenim · 6 days

Text

2007

beneath the boardwalk, part 5 (series masterlist)

my mistakes were made for you

warnings: angst, fluff, smut, robert, etc.

word count: 12.3k

I had my hair cut just above my shoulders but it was not a bob, I am adamant about this. I got a light fringe that I never wore full-frontal on my forehead. I was inclined to pull the two sections apart like a curtain or, regrettably, have them as side bangs.

After New Year's, I returned to London and left many things behind in Wakefield, most notably my journals. I was starting fresh and wanted to claim independence. Stacey gifted me a stack of Moleskine notebooks for Christmas that I wrote in and I began babysitting two girls (5 & 7) who lived in the building with their single mother, Lee, who was 6 years older than me. Georgia and I refused to turn on the heat because we weren't overflowing with cash, especially after my father and I agreed I would start paying rent after the three-month grace period he gave me.

The other reason was we felt more like struggling artists, piled under blankets, wearing two pairs of socks, and heating meals in the microwave because they had grown too cold too quickly. Georgia would write poetry in her room then meet me in the living room and recite it. I was without an editor since Alex and I's parting. So, I began to share my writing with Georgia. After we traded pieces, we would crack the window open and smoke cigarettes out of it.

I was aware I was using Georgia to refill the Alex-shaped hole in my life. What Georgia and I were doing was what I dreamt for Alex and me. I had overwhelming happiness for Alex but I felt disappointed (and certainly jealous) that we didn't experience the struggling artist phase together. But Georgia was what I needed: a friend.

Madeline Critchley, who helped me submit to Granta, got me a position with the University of Greenwich's literary magazine, Anthology. It felt dumb to start at the magazine a few months before I was finished with school but she told me it didn't matter how much time I put into it but what I got out of it. It was cheesy but it ended up being true. I wrote endlessly, trapped inside that building. I was overcome by some being and she never let me stop.

I was invited to a secret gig at The Leadmill in February. Arctic Monkeys's tour director emailed the invitation. I thought about going but used the excuse of babysitting and RSVPed no. Georgia, her new girlfriend, Kyle, Dianna, Robert, and I went and saw Amy Winehouse instead. Obviously, I don't regret the decision.

Not speaking of Alex seemed an unspoken rule but I couldn't help but think of him when Amy came on stage. Not because I related her songs to Alex and our relationship but because the bastard got to meet her and didn't fucking introduce me to her!

Robert's place was a close distance from Astoria so we all, except Dianna, went back and crashed at his place instead of taking a 40-minute ride home on the underground late at night. Georgia and Kyle would sleep on the pull-out and Robert would share his bed with me.

Before we went to sleep, Robert and I smoked a joint in his room. It didn't do much for me, only making me tired-eyed. Robert was in a constant state of haziness. He wore leather pants and a turtleneck. His hair was overgrown and every movement he made bounced his curls.

"Heard about you and Alex." It was the first time we had seen each other this semester. I had only told Georgia, she informed everyone else for me.

"Yep."

"Sorry 'bout that."

I shrugged. It wasn't something I wanted to talk about.

"Sucks we can't get free concert tickets now."

I huffed a laugh. "I didn't think you were much of a fan anyway."

"Well, you know, it's a good place to pick up girls." He eyed me. It was obvious.

"I didn't pay attention to that kind of thing."

"Oh, come on, like you weren't watching every girl there who could steal your man."

I shrugged again. I was never threatened by that idea or maybe I was just uncaring towards it.

"Your ambivalence is a man's greatest dream."

"He never did anything for me to not trust him."

"What about me?"

"Oh," I exaggeratedly rolled my eyes. "I'd never trust you."

We shared a laugh and the joint had reached its butt. He put it down. "So, shall we just get to fucking?"

I pushed off the wall and walked over to what had been deemed my side of the bed. "God, Robert."

"Come on. It's been a long time coming. We're here. We're single. It's our last year. We're never gonna be here again."

"You just want to get yours wet."

"So, you're wet? And hell yeah."

"Shut up."

"Let me kiss you."

"I'm going to bed."

"Fine. Me too."

We laid side-by-side for a minute before I kissed him and then we fucked. I don't remember much. I wasn't that drunk or high. It just wasn't very memorable.

Robert and I had a transactional relationship. Before we began hooking up this was the case and now that we were spending our nights together, we shared awful things with one another, none of which were words. Drugs seemed to be the biggest thing. A joint after sex was expected and by March, Robert and I were snorting coke with one another. It was quite enjoyable. For the time.

We ended up in Regent's Park one night. We sprawled across the vast grass. He called people—they weren't friends—on his Motorola Razr and switched between rambling with them and rambling at me. I brought my notebook and thought about writing but he was too loud.

I searched through my bag for something I never found and remembered when I came with Alex. I hated the infection of him but something about that night and picturing him on a bench next to me made me smile.

I thought of guards changing. My first trip down to London when I was 10 and how Stacey and I stood, faces squeezing through the gates of Buckingham Palace to watch the New Guard replace the Old Guard. I couldn't understand how anyone would want to stand outside on sentry duty for hours. The relief when the New Guard showed up must have been such an enormous relief as their bladders ached and their shoulders begged for mercy. I wondered about the relief Alex felt as the New Guard replaced him. Or did he wish to continue to stand still by the palace's side? But the Old Guard becomes the New Guard eventually. They all just go spinning around.

I wrote about the places we attribute to people. The corners of the world that just belong to them. (Alex, unbeknownst to me, had already done the same [505]). I left Alex's fingerprint out of the piece but it had him all smeared over it. I wrote about the Guard and Stacey's little head nearly trapped in between the metal bars. It was my favourite piece I wrote for Anthology.

I sent it to Alex. He responded:

Buckingham Palace still has guards???? Are people still trying to actively kill the Queen?

I responded:

Diana's ghost.

Alex never sent me any of his work. I dreamt of a book one day appearing on my car roof. But my car stayed in Wakefield and Alex stayed nowhere. It was a rotten daydream.

In April, days before Favourite Worst Nightmare was released, the band played the Astoria for two nights. I hadn't heard any material yet, besides the recently released single "Brianstorm" and its b-sides, I had heard none of the album. It was unsettling not to know the songs. To not have the entire setlist memorized, front to back.

My goal was always to be friends with Alex and going to the concert felt like solidifying this notion. Georgia found my need to befriend Alex so quickly after we had ended bizarre and unnecessary. But it had been months and I was ready to rip the Band-Aid. Georgia came with me. Robert insisted too.

It did end up being bizarre. I was unacquainted with going to an Arctic Monkeys concert and not talking to Alex beforehand. When they came on stage, their appearances were much like when I saw them last. Alex hadn't changed one bit, but his demeanor had. He was stiffer, not in a good or bad way, just an indistinguishable way.

New additions met my ears well with the bass of "Balaclava" ringing through me for days to come. I shifted around "Do Me A Favour" as details became obvious that the subject matter was concerning us and our teary eyes. It made me fidget but I loved it so I couldn't quite complain about the feeling of irk I got. My opinion changed when it was followed by "Mardy Bum" where I knew all of this was a conscious choice. It was an attack on my heart whose walls were still susceptible to incursion.

I found myself relating to songs that weren't written for me like I was the average listener. "Leave Before the Lights Come On" had a different meaning standing next to Robert. I felt ashamed for that and that made me enraged by Alex because without moving a muscle I felt like he was dictating my life through my hippocampus only.

After the show, we waited outside for the band. Georgia also found this insane. Robert said it was tragic but in a poetic way. I said they could go but both refused.

Jamie came out first with Katie who wrapped her arms around me which could be deemed as a threat to my life if it wasn't so loving. She did the same to Georgia and I laughed at the way Georgia flailed her arms around.

The rest of the band followed with Alex's eyes wide and looking between the floor and me, unable to process the sight in a simple glance. "Alright! We're heading back to Robert's place!" Matt shouted. His eyes on Alex became clear he was teasing him.

Regardless, I chuckled and hugged Matt. "No. I was hoping to join wherever you were going if you don't mind the intrusion."

"Never," Nick said, giving me a hug. Nick and I didn't know much about each other other than what Alex told each of us. I liked him because he had always greeted me with a wide smile, welcoming to all. He often seemed like he was just happy to be along for the ride wherever that ride took him. I like that quality very much.

As we walked out further into the street, the paparazzi snapped away, more at the band than the 3 dimwits following them, nevertheless, Robert began a potent rant against the invasion of paparazzi and how it was Big Brother and flexing that he had read 1984 as if it wasn't required reading for everyone in high school. He continued this the whole ride until we arrived at the pub.

It was premier service for a place that felt so unchic but I knew nothing about how the status of celebrity worked. Alex and I didn't go out enough for me to witness it. I had no qualms about using the complimentary service for my drinks.

In the booth, Robert sat with his arm around me. Our displays were often limited to his flat but when he stood to go use the restroom and kissed my cheek I knew what he was doing. I had to laugh, it was impossibly amusing.

I left for a cigarette. Alex followed a minute later. My back was against the wall as he approached. "Hi."

"Hi." I unconsciously handed him one. It was second nature.

He blew a puff out and asked, "You got a review for me?" That was also second nature.

I chuckled and shook my head, looking down at the floor. "Excellent as usual."

"Dry as ever, come on, Janie, you've got to give me more here."

I gave what I could. "I liked the new songs."

It seemed less jokey now as his laughter fell but he smiled at me sincerely. "Thanks."

"I'm sure the album will be great." I never doubted that. Even if he wrote the most scathing things about me, I would love it because he’d word it in such a way that I simply could not hate it.

Our conversation was like hitting a tennis ball back and forth but each time one of us hit it the other wouldn't hit it back. I thought about going inside. Then, he asked me, "You and Robert together?"

His bluntness had taken me aback and I focused on my cigarette to process the question. "Does Robert strike you as the boyfriend type?"

It made Alex laugh, which was the only relief in the world I would need. "I suppose not. Kissing you on the cheek and all—I'm sorry, not my business."

He was flustered, which made me laugh. He was small and cute when he was flustered, messing with his hair and shaking his head. "You know, he gets a kick out of making you jealous."

"Really?" Alex chuckled at the idea. I think Alex, for many years, viewed himself as the underdog, even if he was more famous, richer, cuter, and kinder than nearly anyone else I knew.

"I think you make him feel insufficient. I'm not sure why but he's always felt a need to overcompensate when you're around."

"So, he doesn't do stuff like that usually?"

I never liked lying to Alex. "No. But in full transparency, we are doing the hook-up thing or whatever."

He verged on saying something but closed his mouth and scuffed out his cigarette. I joined him in dropping mine. "Lucky him."

I pushed him light-heartedly. "Shut up."

We returned inside and Robert's arm returned around me. Later, when we were saying our goodbyes for the evening, he was loud in his exclamation that we were leaving together and returning to his flat. I had to hide my laughter. Robert's usual too-cool-for-school conduct faded at the sight of Alex. It made it funnier when Alex pulled me aside while everyone was saying their goodbyes.

"Are you coming to the show tomorrow?"

I shook my head.

"Come."

"I can't. I've got to babysit."

Matt interjected, "They let you around children?"

Before I could say anything, Alex told him, "Will you shut it, Matthew?"

When Matt moved away, Alex grabbed my hands. "Just come tomorrow. Another night of free drinks if you want."

I giggled at his earnestness. "I would if I could."

"Cancel. Come on."

"Al."

"Look, how many nights am I in town for? Come on, Janie."

His eyes wide, his mouth saying his name for me, and his hands clutching mine. I didn't say no.

My arms are crossed and my head is shaking the first time I hear "505" because I don't know what to make of it and I don't know what to make of this. Alex was dressed in a sky-blue Lacoste (this will be more relevant in a few years) and he pressed down on the keys as he pressed down on me.

I was having a hard time wrapping my head around it. I wasn't sure if I should cry or smile. The song left me uneasy and I felt I didn't know what was true anymore. That wavelength between us had been severed and I imagined Alex felt sad about our break-up but I never thought he was rethinking his actions and pining for that hotel room again. I had been the one to lament over our break-up and send it to him. He had stayed reserved in all his opinions and hid away his emotions. It wasn't a new thing by any means. But I did feel a sense of betrayal when I heard the information with 2,000 other people instead of under blankets and sheets, whispered in the dead of winter.

But I didn't want to talk about it so after the show I didn't bring it up. His mannerisms shifted from his awkward movement to more deliberately positioned as he hugged me after the show like he had done so many times before, sweaty.

"Drinks?" I asked him.

He moved back and forth between his left and right foot. "I was thinking I could see this new flat I keep hearing about."

Everything was intentional and obvious. "It's not very fabulous."

He waved me off. "I'm sure you've gushed the place up."

"Gushed the place up?" I questioned his verbiage.

Alex rolled his eyes and squeezed my upper arm. "Come on. Let me see the grounds."

Off we went on the underground to my flat, just the two of us. He kept jumping in his seat on the way over, citing excitement. "It feels out of place that I haven't seen your place," he said.

"Yeah. I know what you mean."

On our way up the stairs to my flat, Alex tried to challenge me to a race but my feet hurt and I couldn't believe he still had enough energy after performing concert after concert. My back was slumped and Alex was standing up perked as I unlocked the door.

"Georgia home?" He asked as we made our way through the door.

"With Kyle."

He nodded, tight-lipped. I could see the scene unfolding before him in his mind as we stood in the living room/kitchen hybrid. He looked around the room like he had actual interest in it before his eyes landed on me with a smile.

"Do you do this in every city?" I asked.

"Huh?"

"Al. You're easy to read."

He stuffed his hands in his coat pocket as he tried to fight that grin bursting across his face. "I wanted to see your place."

I rolled my eyes and walked toward my bedroom. "Yeah, sure." He followed behind like an obedient puppy.

He was attentive in looking around the room, nearly all those trinkets he had memorized from my old room had been replaced with new ones. The poster flier from one of Georgia's poetry readings, the Amy Winehouse ticket stub, and the dumb joke from Alex's Christmas cracker were pinned on my mini bulletin board. The paper crown and mini deck of cards sat displayed on my desk. A slight upturn came to Alex's cheeks at the sight.

His gaze moved back to me. "A lot smaller than your room back home."

"Yeah. Rent's expensive and I'm paying rent now."

"Out from under your dad's thumb." Seeing him as pleased with this as I had been was a happy sight. Those long chats in hidden coves where we'd be independent together. But as always Alex was happy for me even without having him as codependence.

Alex faked looking around my room more as I sat on the edge of my bed. He'd bend down to look at things like he was at a museum. His hands stayed in his pockets the whole time and he examined the corners and details of everything as if he'd be quizzed on it.

"Are you looking to see what you're going to steal from me?" I asked him.

He chuckled. "No, sorry. Just curious." He picked up the mini deck of cards, tossing it in his hands. "Round of Gin?"

"Alex." I wanted to be clear. "You came over here to play cards with me?"

His eyes were stuck on the deck's package, fiddling with the cardboard lid. "I just..." He shrugged multiple times and bounced on his feet. "I guess, I missed you, you know."

"Yeah." It was an easy sentiment to agree to because I feared I'd miss him for the rest of my life.

"We were in Tokyo a few weeks ago and I wanted to go see that Buddha you wrote about that, that, that—"

"Kamakura Daibutsu."

"Yeah." He looked down solemnly. "Wasn't there long enough to do it. I don't know. It just had me thinking about you and I know the relationship thing has sailed."

I didn't believe that. I didn't want to believe that. I had held on to those hidden beliefs that after all the madness we'd return to each other's side and all would be well. An abyss grew in me that Alex didn't believe that too.

"But," he continued. "But just all that shite that I'd done to make it worse and I vowed I'd never do that and I'm sorry for being a total dickhead."

"I did things too that I knew would hurt you."

"You did nothing."

"I slept with someone in Aruba."

He froze, his stare on me as he processed the information. "Uh, that's fine."

I shook my head. "Don't do that. I don't want to start acting like my parents."

"I don't want tonight to be this depressing," he laughed wetly.

"What did you want tonight to be?"

"I, I, to be—to hang out, to be with you."

"We could have done that at a pub. Why'd you want to come to my flat?" We looked at each other, both knowing the answer but waiting to see if the other would verbalize it.

He put the deck back on my desk and sat beside me. He stared forward at the wall for a moment before falling on his back. He rubbed his face as if to scrub it off, not wanting me to see the sight of it. My eyes never stopped following him. I was afraid to blink.

"My plan was to be all cute, tha knows."

"Aren't you always?"

The comment seemed to drop his guard a bit as he placed his hands on his chest. He took a deep breath and looked at me. His smile slowly grew as if it was being watered by the sight of me. "If you want to kiss me, you can."

I rolled my eyes and turned away from him but my smile was unavoidable.

"Come on." He tugged on my wrist. "You wouldn't let me endure one of the most embarrassing moments of my life."

I slapped away his hand's grip. "Quit mocking me."

He sat up. "I'm not mocking, Janie. I'm making the bad good." His face was right next to mine and it felt like the best move was to kiss him because kissing Alex could never be wrong even if he was leaving tomorrow and I would be left here.

So, therefore, having sex with Alex could never be an issue even though I slept with Robert the night before and I would sleep with him tomorrow. I wanted relief. The only solution was Alex in me. It was memorable.

His excitement worried me. "You're graduating in a few months. You could join us for festival season. It'll be in all those incredible places you want to go with beautiful weather. It'll be perfect. Where do you want to go? We'll go."

Lying in his arms had always been a comfort but now I felt this inevitability of hurting him with the false hope I had given. We lied on our sides, looking at each other, his hand draped over my waist.

"I don't know what kind of job I'll have after school. I might have to stay in London."

"We should hire you. You'll be our on-the-road journalist." His smile was infectious and I wished to have similar sentiments that once the obligation of school was done then we'd be fixed. But I wasn't going to kid myself.

I fell onto my back and clutched the bedsheet to my chest. "I think I'd be a bit biased. I don't want to be a journalist anyway."

"What do you want to be then, Janie?"

I shrugged. "I'll know when it's here."

Alex propped himself up on his elbow and quickly hovered over me. "You can't lie to me, Janie. You're a writer."

"Everybody's a writer," I argued.

He bit back a chuckle and shook his head. "Don't give me that shite for 4 years ago. You're a writer. I've seen it with my own two eyes."

"Well," I bite my lip, "there's this magazine, Granta, that I've submitted pieces to. I don't know if I want to do the whole freelance writer thing but I like writing what I want to write."

"Do it," he urged. "I'm not just saying that because you'll be able to come on the road with us."

I side-eyed him. "Sure."

"Have faith in me. I'm always looking out for the best for you. I'm always in your corner, Jane Cavendish."

It hit me. I knew it was the truth and he had always rallied for me so deeply even when we were far away from each other. "Ditto."

Alex rolled onto his back and looked at the ceiling. "Plus, you'll be able to see us headline Glastonbury."

I laughed but he didn't correct himself. I looked over and that smug bastard smirked at me and slowly nodded his head. "Fuck off. You're joking." He wasn't. Obviously.

Alex left for Liverpool at 6:30 AM. He shook me out of sleep saying he'd see me in a few weeks and kissed me.

Hours later, when I woke up, I would've figured I'd dreamt it if he hadn't written a note and placed it on my nightstand.

Come to Leadmill on the 21st & 22nd. I want a formal review. —A.T.

A couple of days later, Favourite Worst Nightmare dropped, including my—to this day—only songwriting credit on "Fluorescent Adolescent." I sent a text to Alex calling him a plagiarist. He told me to look out for the royalties check.

My relationship with Robert had remained unchanged but he gave the impression he knew what I had done with Alex. We never talked about it and when I left for Wakefield on the 20th he told me to tell the band he liked the album. I kissed his cheek. He was an annoying piece of shit but he was my friend. Few people understood it but we related to one another in a way I've never related with anyone. We were twin flames and it's why I couldn't handle him for more than a night at a time. We lit each other's fires but a fire is still a fire even if it keeps you warm on a cold night and burns you the next.

In Wakefield, my parents informed me they were moving. It had little to no effects on me other than sentimentality and having to clean out my childhood room. Stacey, however, would be uprooted and for that, I hurt.

My parents' guilt-tripped generosity allowed Stacey to attend The Leadmill show—her first Arctic Monkeys concert. She was slightly aware of the ambiguity of Alex and I's relationship and over the winter had prodded me for more. No one can claim to be a bigger fan of Alex Turner than Stacey, not even myself.

I wore my Arctic Monkeys tour T-shirt purchased at the London shows and Stacey wore the one I had purchased for her (I bought them at the merch table because it felt too awkward to ask Alex or the band for one. I used to just steal them. I decided to not hold the poor merch girl at gunpoint for a shirt). I drove my car there so Alex couldn't persuade me into drinks after. Stacey's coming eliminated any funny business. I wanted to get through school before starting anything up with Alex again. If I was even going to do that. I wasn't sure yet.

The setlist had a few new inclusions and Stacey jumped around freely. It was a beautiful sight of youth to see. It's the first time I really felt old at the thought that used to be me. Then, I felt stupid. I was a fresh 21, I had no clue how old old would really feel.

After the show, we congratulated the band on a good show and said good night. Alex told me to come to his parents' house before the show tomorrow. I accepted. I missed David and Penny. They would also be a good prevention buffer.

Up in his room, we sat on his bed and talked like the old days. There was much that had happened to talk about. Alex took the news of the house selling harder than me. I guess my sentimentality had rubbed off on him but I never viewed that house in the rose-coloured view that Alex did. But moments in my room I've locked away in my heart for just him and me. Things for only my ears to hear, my eyes to see, and my flesh to feel and vice versa for him.

After the show, we sat in my car.

"I feel like we're back to being 18," I told him.

"Why?"

I laughed to shield the seriousness with which I was speaking. "These trysts of ours."

"I already told Miles so." He had come out and performed "505" with them that night.

I rolled my eyes and chuckled. "Of course you did."

He shrugged helplessly.

"I'm still—well, I continued my thing with Robert. I'm not gonna lie to you."

"I kind of figured."

"I don't know how I feel about starting this again. Always being so far."

Alex sighed and leaned forward on his elbow on the center console. "After you've graduated that might not even be an issue."

"I'm not gonna follow you around like a puppy dog for years, Alex."

"I don't expect you to. But it could be fun this summer. After that, there'll be a break and we'll go wherever you pick. Swear it." He stuck his pinky out.

I bit the inside of my cheek and looked at his sweet face, always seeing so much with those big eyes. I loved him to pieces. Through all the struggles, there was that sweet face. So, I wrapped my pinky around his.

Alex was in Orlando when I graduated. He sent me a long email that is too long and personal to be printed in full here but here's an excerpt.

I think you should be a food reviewer that way we get into all the best restaurants that I'm not elegant enough to get into. Or you could just bat your eyelashes. Either would work I'm sure.

Be whatever you want. You'll be the best at it. Unless you want to do my job then stick to your day job otherwise I'll be out of one. Call me after, whenever you can. I wish I was there so imagine I am. It'll make me feel better.

He sounded like a dad. Some version of Atticus Finch morphed into a buffoon. I thought for hours about how to respond to the email. My eyes began to hurt so I just sent him photos from the day that Georgia had taken.

Georgia hid her discrepancies with me over abandoning the flat to "run off with Alex" as she said every time I brought up my summer plans. I sublet my room with full intentions of returning in September.

Robert was messier. We mutually seemed to agree that our sexual relationship would come to an end in May when we graduated. Robert held plans of going to New York and being a vagabond and I felt settled in London. Our activity had grown sparse after my trip to Yorkshire but didn't cease.

Two nights before graduation, I told him of my plans for the summer. He nodded along but laughed when I finished. "Whatever, Jane, be a fucking groupie all your life."

"I'm not."

He laughed maliciously at me. "I think you're scared of what comes after uni so you're clinging to this rich, successful ex-boyfriend. Play second fiddle to him. That's fine."

He was jealous. But I worried he was right.

I met up with the band in Dublin, which seemed fitting. It was easy to fall into the old habits of 2005 when I joined the band during the summer. However, Alex and I's relationship hadn't returned to what it had been. I slept in his bunk due to lack of space but that wasn't difficult. We struggled more with communication.

Their two shows in Dublin were messy and fanatical in the crowd. I stood backstage and listened to people singing along to a song I wrote. It didn't feel as out-of-body as I imagined and I wondered if Alex felt the same way when he heard the crowd singing along with him.

In between their first and second show in Dublin, Alex and I escaped to Wicklow, much to the annoyance of his management who worried the whole day that he had ditched the show. We returned in time, although we did cut it close.

We hiked the Glen Beach Cliff where the ocean kissed the mountains and I knew Alex wanted to complain the whole time but he didn't. His shoes were old, the seams nearly ripped open as we hiked the 3 miles. Below us, on the beach, were seals. It felt like a different world compared to the one we had experienced last night.

As we walked downhill, Alex wrapped his arm around me and despite nearly tripping several times and knocking me down with him, I refused to let him remove the arm.

"Are we dating again?" He asked.

It had been a largely neglected topic, mostly because I hadn't made my mind up about it. It was easy to be with Alex but being with Alex when we weren't actually with each other was frustrating. My biggest worry had always been ruining our friendship over the failure of our romantic relationship. Still, I wasn't sure of anything. "I guess."

He lightly chuckled. "That was enthusiastic."

"I'm sorry. I guess my question remains about what will happen after summer." The wind swirled around us and I tried my best to keep my hair out of my face.

"That's more a question for you than for me. You know what I want but I'm going to be happy for you whatever way you go. You know that right?" Alex has always been insistent on making sure I know he's steadfast in his support of whatever direction I decide to head and he has held true to that (mostly).

"Then, I'll need time to think about that. See what opportunities come my way this summer."

He nodded and tugged me closer. "This is over in December and then I'm all yours. Besides, I've already called you me girlfriend so you can't go back on it now."

In my sarcastic nature, I tossed my head on his shoulder, sounding, "Ugh! Don't be presumptuous, Al."

I got my favourite pair of sunglasses stolen at Glastonbury and I will hunt down the thief until the day that I die. Not that sunglasses were required for much of that day. The sky was dim, the ground was muddy, and it rained the whole weekend. We got there a day early to settle and like any night before a big show, it was spent drinking and horsing around late into the night.

Alex and I didn't get to bed until way past midnight and even then we had left Jamie, Matt, and other mates still fucking around. As we got ready for bed Alex had grown quiet, slow in his movements, and shrinking down into the small bed.

We laid down together and silence was awkward and he felt stiff. "You nervous?"

"Yeah," he laughed out in an effort to mask his nerves.

I curled my arm around and hugged him. I did my best to comfort him the way he always did for me. I held him tight and tried to possess a shoulder to cry on the best I could. "You know, I'll still love you even if you make a fool of yourself."

"Thanks." I leaned back to look at him as he struggled with a smile. His hand reached up and pushed my hair behind my ear. He held my cheek and it felt like his muscles had finally relaxed. "I'll try my best not to. I know you don't want to be stuck with a fool."

"Aren't you already?"

He rolled his eyes and was relieved with a laugh. "Maybe only for you."

"That's so cheesy. You should be put in jail."

"As long as you were there."

I slapped a thunk onto his arm. "Stop it, you. I'll imprison you. Shush!"

He resisted my push away from him, wormed his arm under me, and landed the other over me. He wiggled us close and he felt like a preheated oven as my bones were left out to defrost. "Are you happy? Excited?"

Alex often needed me to reassure him during this period of our lives, especially after we got back together. That summer our relationship was ambiguous and it was easy for Alex to fear that at the first sign of unhappiness, I would ditch him. He wasn't exactly wrong. I wouldn't have left if Glasto sucked but if I became unhappy with Alex, it was an easy out for me. I've always appreciated easy outs.

"Yeah. I wish I had a camera. Then, I could sell them all to The Sun and make a killing."

"Is all this okay with you?" More questions. Another valid one. An undiscussed topic had often been I, an at-the-time unknown, being pulled into the public eye for my attachment to Alex. It's not like he was some tabloid superstar but it didn't leave me as a virtual unknown, especially with the band only getting bigger.

I nodded, my ear rustling against the pillow. "No stalkers. Except maybe you." He hadn't left my side since we arrived. I couldn't complain one bit. For once, I wasn't the clingy one.

He mused, "What can I say? I love you."

"Stop." Too cheesy, too cheesy.

Alex laughed into his pillow. He softened up and inched closer to me on our tiny bed. "Why didn't you bring your camera?" My photograph production had declined since college but I still held onto the habit.

I frowned. "It broke right before graduation."

"The ol’ Canon finally bit the dust,” he joked. It had been the only camera I ever owned. I used my mother’s old cameras when I took that photography class with Matt. I never bothered investing more in it than what I could borrow. “We can pick up another one."

I sighed. "Too much money. I'm an independent woman now."

"Oh, damn, you need me to be your daddy now."

I pushed him off the bed.

We mudded up our wellies the following day to see Amy Winehouse before the rain poured in full force again. I think it relaxed everyone to feel like we went to Glasto just to enjoy it and not actually headline it. We nodded our heads along with the songs and stood with our hands stuffed into our pockets.

Opposing Alex's nerves, I was wracked with excitement. I went off into my own world during Glastonbury and wanted to enjoy the hippie nature and the history. I loved the whole weekend. The nights after watching The Killers and The Who and I'm pissed with Arctic Monkeys to this day for having me miss Björk to watch their stupid headline set.

Dressed in their overcoats and Matt with his Adidas track pants, their set went off without a hitch and I had fun dancing with Katie and briefly with Dizzee Rascal before he joined them onstage for "Temptation Greets You Like A Naughty Friend." The road had and would be lonely but it was eased a little bit by having another girl by my side. When Miles came out and joined the band for "505" I thought of Eva. I hadn't talked or heard about her since The Little Flames disbanded. I shamed myself for it. I had become a person who held onto objects that reminded you of a person as an excuse to no longer see them. The thought crossed my mind that Georgia was my only friend and I hadn't talked to her since I joined the band on the road. Then, Katie hugged me to her side and I felt a little less lonely.

I had grown desensitized to the meaning behind Alex's songwriting. I never stopped and thought about how he was singing songs that were rooted in our break-up because it no longer seemed important because we were together and how the past could affect the future. But there was this moment during "Do Me A Favour" where he had seemed rather emotional, furiously strumming his guitar and rushed singing close to his microphone. I felt ashamed for not having the same reaction as him. I felt like I was missing a gene by not crying at "Mardy Bum" or not swooning at "I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor" but I suppose night after night, I just became numb to the meanings of those songs. I wish I hadn't. I wish I enjoyed it more but everything felt fleeting so I made no effort to cherish moments at that age.

When they got off stage the thought had floated away and we were ready for a night of exhausted celebration. The weather was rough and the band had their casual round of press before we enjoyed drinks and party favours in the camper. Alex and I made out against the door of a porta-potty at one point. It was very disgusting.

I fulfilled more travel fantasies with this tour. The limitations no longer sat in Great Britain and Ireland as we moved up to Scandinavia, first stopping in Oslo. I was set loose and skipped their concert, instead visiting the Akershus Fortress and seeing "The Scream" at the Munch Museum finally returned to its home after being stolen in 2004 (although, I'm partial to Munch's "Madonna" but that's neither here nor there). In Stockholm, I continued this by going to the Vasa Museum and in the evening hiking up to Skinnarviksberget and watching the sunset, but, sadly, no Northern Lights.

We continued the festival run going through Germany and then Rock Werchter where at this point I should have broken the world record for seeing Lily Allen live as I once again watched her on the Pyramid Marquee before seeing my boys on the Main Stage.

A festival or so later, a day off was given before their Paris show, and, in a way, I finally got my Parisian dream. The hotel was nice and the toilet worked like how a normal toilet works but Alex and I shared a room. Privacy for the first time since his room in Sheffield. We did the obvious, a few times.

It's weird to put it how sex works with Alex and me. It's like a weird recalibrating device. I suspect it's because our relationship started through it that whenever we need to get back on the same page fucking seems to help. It was late and we shared a cigarette after because you can do that then in Paris. I would talk, he would smoke it, then he would talk, I would smoke it.

"You and Katie have become best mates," he said. Katie had returned back to England a few days prior and I once again was the lone girl.

"I like her a lot. She's a calm presence amongst the chaos."

"Yeah, she's done Jamie a world of good. Calmed him a bit." That was undeniably true. Jamie had always been a kind and caring guy but he had an uncontrollable craze at times and a mouth that poured at things that maybe shouldn't have been said. Katie seemed to kick him and keep him in check.

I have always been fascinated with how people change people. Somewhere at our center these people worm their way in and change your hardwiring or maybe they just expose what has always been there. "Have I calmed you?"

Alex chuckled. "Quite the opposite I think."

"Hey!" I became jokingly affronted. "I can be a calm presence. You lot are the ones who are messing around so much."

He continued to laugh at me. Eyes bright and smile light. He reached over and began to pet my hair. "I don't think calm would be the right word." I thought about hitting his chest but that would prove his point. "I just think you've made me more confident."

It was a peculiar thought to me. I didn't feel confident most of the time and I was nowhere near the confidence of going on stage and headlining festivals as a band's frontman. "How?" I asked.

He reached back to stub out the cigarette on the ashtray on the bedside table but he kept his hand steady on the side of my head, rubbing smooth circles. He returned closer and with a soft smile. "In a lot of ways. Your encouragement." I couldn't argue with that. Alex had done the same for me tenfold. "I feel like if you believe in me, even if I fuck up out there, you'll still be here." I wanted to always be there. I hated how life got in the way and people stayed and others went and I just wanted to stay in little corners of the world with Alex forever. But in those early years, it was an impossibility. We tried our best.

"Plus, you're smoking hot." I rolled my eyes but I was, of course, charmed by the comment (I mean, I wrote it here for a reason. I want everyone to know he finds me smoking hot). "Do you know the power I have by having you as a girlfriend? For god's sake, Robert almost kicked my ass over you."

I pushed away from him. "Ew. Don't talk about Robert when I'm naked."

"Why? You've been naked with him."

Forces froze and I waited to see if he had more to say or if I had anything to say but we both felt chilled by the awkwardness. I slowly sat up more against the headboard and rested back against it. "Were you hurt by that?"

"What?"

"Me having sex with Robert because you don't really have a right to be pissed." I was defensive because I was in the right but I also framed his words as an attack.

Alex was slow in his response, I guess he was trying to find the best way to say what he was thinking without me biting his head off for it. "No. I mean, you're right. There's no reason to be pissed."

I wanted to know his real feelings. I knew he wouldn't shame me for doing it but I wondered if he felt the act of Robert and I's relationship was an attack against him. I played with my fingernails and we didn't make eye contact. We were two planks beside one another. "But were you?"

I peeked over. His shoulders shrugged and he looked down at his hands. We were mirror images of each other. "I don't know. I mean, I don't like the idea of you being with anyone else. Truthfully, Robert annoys me so I guess that confused me or upset me more. But I love you, you know." He looked over. Insistent on this part. "And that's not going away. I figured that out a long time ago. As much as I love the idea that I get to be with you for...you know, I know that I can't get everything I want. But I want you to get all that. I want it more for you than for me. You got that?"

It took me a while to regain control. I was stuck between smiling so wide my face ripped into two and crying until my eyes fell out. I took a shaky breath. "Yeah. But I want all that for you too so you're right back to getting everything you've wanted again because I want that."

"You're always forcing me to take care of myself, Janie."

I hugged him. I needed to touch him. To hold him. I whispered into his neck, "It's 'cause I love you, you know."

When the tour went on break I went with Alex to Black Box Studios in Maine-et-Loire, France where he and Miles recorded the first Last Shadow Puppets album. The whole album was recorded in a matter of 2 weeks but nothing about it was rushed. The landscape was lush and the downtime felt like something out of an Eric Rohmer film.

On the last few dates of the tour, we ended up in Sydney. It was the only time during the tour that I got the urge to call my mother. I didn't because my Nokia couldn't call that far but I sent her and my father a postcard and I bought Stacey Uggs, authentic Uggs. We had a day off where we went to Bondi Beach where Matt and I braved the cold water. Afterwards, we visited the zoo where I got to hold a koala. I felt like holding a baby, except with the softest fur imaginable. Afterward, I pouted about not being allowed to own one so Alex bought me a koala stuffed animal.

A week after, the band went to play Summer Sonic in Osaka and Tokyo. I went back home for a week. It wasn't intentional, the dates just lined up that way but it felt best to skip such a rough place. Alex has a habit of embodying the mood of places based on memories. This behavior can likely only exist for a guy who has been to so many places.

I joined The Last Shadow Puppets a few days into recording. When I arrived, Miles and Alex had just returned from riding their bikes together. They looked like twins, shaggy-haired and brown-eyed boys. Alex threw his bike down and tossed his arm over to me like we were two buds, just getting off our shift at work. It filled me with endless excitement. Then, Miles came over and cupped my face, pinching my cheeks. I slapped him away and we went inside and had dinner.

At that dinner table, I could picture a whole future. Ones where Alex and I had Miles over our house, our little stray puppy. Nights where we all went out drinking and he crashed on our couch. Miles and I would both be hungover and Alex would give us painkillers and make us scrambled eggs.

Side-by-side, Alex and I brushed our teeth. It was a greater act of love than a marriage proposal.

I had begun to videotape these Shadow Puppets. On the morning of my second day there, Alex and I were lounging around in bed when he told me he had a little present. He came out with a camera, a Pentax 17.

"For me?" I pointed to myself, holding the delicate thing, cradling it like my baby.

He snorted a laugh. "Who else?" He petted my hair back and he was the sweetest man who ever lived.

In those two weeks, I didn't have many subjects. Most of the footage and pictures were of Miles and Alex. James Ford, who produced and drummed with the Puppets, made some appearances. I slipped by in a couple too. I began to develop this plan to make a documentary on the band. It fell through, mainly because when they went to do the orchestral parts of the album in December, I couldn't go, and I was also lazy. They used some of it for a 4play documentary but it wasn't the vision I had. Alex says I would have won an NME award (I have desperately wanted to win one solely for the middle finger trophy. Alex has plenty, only one on display for joking sake, but I would beg to win one. It might have been my only chance). It probably would have sucked. I've never worked with actual film to make a movie. I never worked with anything to make a movie because I've never made a movie. I will never make one either. Because I am lazy. But, I guess, I'll get through the rest of this book and stop interrupting the flow of the story by telling you I'm getting ready to write more of this book which you will read now. Or now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now.

Now, I have filmed much more on that camera other than Miles and Alex skipping through great fields and picking daisies, although I still shoot that too. If I could submit home videos for the NME Awards, I would have won one by now.

Most afternoons we rode bikes around the tiny town. I would occasionally drop into the studio out of pure boredom but I spent the majority of my downtime writing or exploring. One afternoon, the trio of us biked by Château d'Armaillé. It was a lofty manor contrast to the farms and livestock breeders we usually biked by. I stopped and stared as I usually do.

"Can you believe people lived in that thing?" I questioned, completely mesmerised.

Alex laughed, already pleased with his joke. "Yeah, isn't that the size of your family home?"

On our last night there we had a little dinner party with everyone we had come across at Black Box Studios in the two weeks we had been there. Since this was pretty much the middle of nowhere, there were very few people. But it felt celebratory to end this little project with gloriously catered French food and playing dress-up. It was mainly an excuse for me to wear a vintage dress I had found at a used clothing store in Nantes when I was waiting for a car out to Black Box.

It was a white drop-waist dress with a little bow on the side of my hip and a skirt with a light lace overlay. It was paired with a cloche hat that I regretfully didn't buy, but I still have the dress. Alex wore a button-down and slacks but Miles and I talked him into wearing a stupid top hat that had been lying around Black Box for the 2 weeks we were there. Alex ended up taking it home with him, although he does not still have it. Miles wore shorts, a grey T-shirt, and a bowtie.

The food and conversations were far more important with the most delicious potatoes I've ever tasted that were mixed with a sauce that I might forever be wondering what it was but my tongue can still feel the taste. The wine was white and Alex dropped his glass on the floor halfway through the dinner, which he doesn't want me to mention, which means I totally will be mentioning it (obviously).

His arm rested on the back of my chair and our plates had long been cleared and the dessert, Gâteau Nantais (a delicious almond pound cake, soaked in rum, and topped with glaze—I really, really liked these meals), had been picked away at. I was still eating the crumbs of my second slice and Alex drank from his new wine glass. I could see futures, but for the first time, I felt like this was the future. Friends, old and mostly new, surrounded us and we drank and ate and talked and laughed and the warmth of Alex radiated on me. I was in love with everything.

"Will Jane be heading back on the road for North America?" James asked Alex.

He turned to me with his teeth showing, smiling enough for sparks to come off it. Pride radiated off of him; it still makes me want to cry. "As of this morning, Miss Cavendish has a job with Simon & Schuester."

When I told Alex, I was cautiously concerned that his worries would overshadow the news, but I never doubted he'd be happy for me. I got the call when he was brushing his teeth. I told him when he returned to our room and he grabbed my hands and made me jump on the bed with him. (Shall I avoid the Monkeys Jumping on the Bed joke?).

The table cheered loudly and drunkenly. "Oh, shit, I know those two boys!" Miles, sooooooo drunk, exclaimed. I bashfully tucked my chin down, avoiding the attention.

Alex's hand skimmed over my left shoulder. He bent down to kiss my downturned cheek and it was like my crush just kissed the spot—my cheeks flushed red and my heart pounded on the gates of my ribs.

I waved for the noise to quiet down. "It's just an editorial assistant position."

Alex squeezed my shoulder, looking over at me, and rolling his eyes. "Cut it with that rubbish, Janie. It should have been the first thing we cheers to when we sat down."

He reached for his wine glass and I shoved his arm away. "Stop it. You're flustering me." His breath smelled of Chardonnay and his behavior spelled out drunk—his bubbly drunk phase, which is the most flattering phase. He leaned over kissing my cheeks repeatedly making the table erupt in noise again. I took a grip on his face and tried to push him away.

"I've made you all red," he boasted. Alex's face was all red too but it was likely more to do with the alcohol than me. "It's time to cheers, Janie." He motioned toward my almost empty wine glass. I shook my head. "Time to cheers, Janie," he insisted.

"You sure you aren't going to drop your glass again?" I teased.

"Oh, shut it, you," he said, but he laughed and tugged me close to him. I almost thought he was going to give my head a noogie.

He drank all the wine out of his glass before raising it. "To Jane Cavendish, Simon & Schuester Editorial Assistant."

I started on a Wednesday and I did little editing in my editorial position. But Helen, one of the editors, gave me old drafts they hadn't published and the book and told me to pick all the differences out and she would be quizzing me on it the next day. I went out drinking with Lee and Georgia and came in hungover the next day. Helen said I was the first editorial assistant she had that didn't fall for the quiz prank. That endeared her to me and she became my mentor.

Alex was off doing interviews about virginity for the Virgin Fest and I had never been more thankful I didn't lose my virginity to him. I used to wish that and tell Stacey when assuring her not to lose it so young. But it's probably best since I'd associate the time I lost my virginity with an interviewer from AXS Uncut asking Alex to name virgins.

I had moved back in with Georgia and her new girlfriend, Kyle, who was always a sweetheart, even if she didn't do the dishes. They weren't the annoying kind of couple to live with. They weren't loud and I never felt like the third wheel around them. It was easy for my mind to drift to Alex. I would relive the way Black Box felt. While the majority of it felt like a vacation, at its core, we were coming home each night together. The home is what we lacked on the road and the togetherness is what we lacked at home. I just thought of him being in my bed, sleeping. I always liked the way he looked sleeping.

Alex called more than he did on the last tour. I guess he had learned a lesson. Being in North America was a bit easier than when he'd been in the Eastern Hemisphere since he was only 6 hours behind. He'd call me when I got off work before he'd perform his concert and we would talk of the monotony of my day. A couple of hours later, usually while I was sleeping, he'd text me about how the concert went. It was usually only one word: "Good." "Great." "Best." "Sucked." "Wanker." "Drunk."

We had fallen into a pattern and although it seemed dull, it was successful. My heart still ached and sometimes the sight of Georgia and Kyle made me want to stick my head in the oven, but he was there when I needed him, even though he couldn't be here.

Working felt comfortable and, for once, I eased into that comfort. I got after-work drinks with editors and fellow editorial assistants. I'd joke around with superiors at work and I'd go home to Georgia and Kyle, who had made dinner for me. Georgia was working various gigs, but still heavily focusing on poetry. Kyle worked as a set developer, which meant our living room looked like a craft store had exploded. I didn't mind. I spent most of my off-time in my room and would only venture to the living room when we watched TV together.

However, when the North American leg finished at the beginning of October, Alex dropped by, and with a clicking of his tongue and the shaking of his head, he said, "Oh, Janie. You've got glitter everywhere." He said this in front of Kyle, so I hit the back of his head and dragged him to my bedroom.

Alex's stay at our flat during October was never agreed upon, he just showed up and I'd never turn him away. A week in, however, Georgia asked me when it was just the two of us in our kitchen, early in the morning before I headed off to work, "So, is he like living with us now?"

I shrugged. "No. I mean, he'll be back on the road before the end of the month."

"How do you feel about that?" What a good therapist she would be.

"Better than last time. I'm occupied now. I don't have to worry about lying around all the time thinking of him."

"You're a big girl now, Cavendish. But if he stays past a month, he will have to pay rent."

I laughed out loud. "I doubt he'll be living here with us."

"All I’m saying is rich rockstar can pitch in on groceries."

I told Alex of this conversation and he took me to the store to point out all of Georgia's favourite food goodies and bought them for her. Georgia felt bad after that until she had Jelly Babies. Then, she insisted Alex buy groceries every week.

On Alex's last night at the flat, he bought takeaway for everyone and watched I'm a Celebrity...Get Me Out of Here! with us. Several jokes were made about Alex doing the show, but I don't think Alex could eat a bug or be stuck with Katie Hopkins for a month. After dinner, Georgia and Kyle left for a "late-night poetry reading" or more likely avoid-the-lovebirds game.

Alex and I showered, changed into pajamas, and brushed our teeth together. In two parentheses, curled to bookend one another, Alex brushed his hand down my side. I told him, "I hope you get a good tan in South America."

"I'm too pale for you, Janie?"

"Maybe your butt," I giggled. It was some form of drunk-in-love. I felt rush through me every time he looked at me. It was like taking a hit.

"Wish you could come with us," he said. He was sober in his tone but his eyes were glazed over.

"Me too, but I'm happy here. I love my job and it sucks to not be with you but—"

He smiled—beamed bright and overwhelming. "But you're happy." He curled into me. My manners had transferred to him as he curled his arms around me and dug his face into my neck. "I'll be back for a week in November."

"And you'd come back here?" I questioned. There was a touch of uncertainty in everything we did that year, mostly because we had never even said we were back together and the other part was the reason for our break-up.

Alex lifted his head, his smile still showing. "Yeah." He sounded so happy and sunny. It was a cocoon of bliss. The young love I had always wanted. His fingers traced over my shoulder, making little finger drawings. His eyes looked down on his creation, avoiding my eyes. "And then we've got two shows here in December and then that last show in Manchester, which I thought maybe you could take off work and come up for. It's on a Monday so understandable if you can't."

I smiled at him but I'm unsure if he saw it due to his shy gaze dodging my face. "I'll try my best. I'll definitely be at the London ones."

His face was aglow but attentive to his finger tracing. "And then I was thinking, maybe—I don't know—maybe I'd come back to London."

I lightly chuckled. "You're not banned from the city. You're always welcome here. Georgia and Kyle like you a lot."

"I like them too but I was thinking we could stay somewhere else."

"What? Like a hotel?"

He finally looked me in the eye. "No, maybe we move in together. Like, get our own place. Maybe. It was just a thought."

It pleased me to no end. The thought wrapped its way around me the first time we slept together and over three years later to encounter the reality of it, I couldn't believe it. "A flat for just the two of us?"

"Yeah. I know you like it here but maybe we could find somewhere that I'm not finding specks of glitter all over my clothes."

I giggled all over him. "Yeah, yeah. I'd like that too. I'd like anywhere as long as you're there."

Alex shook his head with a big smile like he couldn't believe it. He hugged me, kissing my cheek, and then...then we did other stuff, you know.

People have asked me if Alex plays songs for me. They've imagined a world in which Alex sings me a lullaby every night. And I guess the answer is "yes" but I'd say more of a "sort of" situation. Alex would often strum his guitar to me but not in a dedicative format. It was something he would have done if I was there or if I wasn't. So, I would say he never did it for me.

Except once.

He was back in London and he had arrived late the night before. I was in my jammies and my slippers when he arrived and he made fun of me for my pajama pants that had Christmas elves printed on them.

I was waiting on my bed for him to return from the bathroom. He came back, chilly from the lack of heating; Georgia and I weren't turning it on again this winter. He paced around my room before he asked, "Can I play you something?"

I furrowed my brows. "Like a song?"

He nodded and picked up his guitar. "I'm gonna do it on Radio 2 tomorrow. Like a little teaser for what's to come."

"So, this is a song for the next album?"

He shrugged. "Maybe." We never talked about the next thing, which was a problem and not a good choice for our reunited relationship.

Alex adjusted his guitar on his lap and sat in front of me, playing "Fire and the Thud" to me. He had never been that overtly romantic in a song before. Songs on the previous two albums never felt like love songs, but rather songs of longing or infatuation. But it felt like he had written this song for me as he played it for me.

It would be one of the sweetest things anybody has ever done for me if he didn't go on to do even more songs for me. Not to brag or anything.

After he put his guitar down, I curled my arms around his neck and yanked him down with me to lay back on the bed. "You like it?"

"Loved it. I love everything you write."

"Yeah, but you really loved this one right?"

"Sure."

A few weeks later, when Alex and I returned from the final show of the Favourite Worst Nightmare tour, we moved into a new flat. Together. I had picked the flat out. Alex said whatever I liked he'll like and I wasn't going to argue being the sole picker.

We moved in at a record speed, mainly because I had very little stuff and Alex had nothing, everything still back home in his childhood bedroom. My parents had officially moved down to Bath and I had received scathing phone calls from Stacey. I still feel sorry for that poor teenage girl.

Alex and I got a studio, which I liked because it felt artsy and a total adult thing to share a studio with your boyfriend. Later, it would be the start of many fights between Alex and me because I never had any privacy.

We had our bed in one corner, the kitchen in the other, and a small bathroom down the hall. Plus, it was in Clerkenwell, which was closer to work. We had his record player on the floor and a shared dresser. It was a greater act of love than sex or writing songs. It was his things mixed with mine.

We weren't there for very long. We each went back to our family's homes for Christmas, which suddenly was no longer the same area. Our time apart was short and when we returned we cleaned up the rest of our shared apartment and decided to have a New Year's Eve party.

It was wild debauchery from start to finish. Though we provided liquor, it seemed like every guest came with their own stash. I hadn't realized how many friends Alex had in London. His number of guests heavily outweighed mine but it didn't have much of an issue. Everything was communal and it was truly a night where everyone seemed free. Maybe it was the New Year's part or maybe it was being in the start of our early 20s. When I look back on this time, I forget how young I was. 17 and slutting up the streets at Barnsley and how in 4 years, I had obtained an establishing job and lived in London with my boyfriend. It was a dream book experience and like most things it was a small portion of our lives. But I felt straight out of a movie with this ending to the year I had received.

Katie and I hid in a corner to talk close together to avoid all the noise. We shared a drink and both drowned in heavy alcohol consumption but we loved each other very much and I knew we'd be friends forever (I was very drunk when I thought this and slurred this to her but time has held this statement to be true. Drunk words are sober futures). "I'm going to marry him," I told her. We were watching Jamie attempt to throw Alex over his shoulder, fireman-style. Alex was a sweet ragdoll, laughing about and swaying.

Jamie was the loyal rescuer. "I'm going to marry him too," she slurred back to me. "We'd be like band sisters-in-law."

"Aw," I cooed. "I don't have a sister-in-law." (I mean, I do, my brother's wife, but I was referring more to Alex being an only child and I was wildly drunk. Forgive me, Cecilia).

"Then I can be yours!"

Before midnight, only a minute or so before, Alex and I huddled up in the kitchen with our closest friends of the bunch. Matt and Jamie were arguing about who had drunk more and we all watched on laughing. I was burrowed under Alex's arm. He was the cave I chose to hibernate in this winter.

"Don't forget the beer you had before coming here," Alex egged Matt on.

"Yes! And the beer I had 'fore coming here!" Matt sloppily shouted to Jamie.

I pulled on Alex's hand he had thrown over me. "Don't they know I'm the drunkest?"

Alex chuckled. "Yes, with that breath you probably are." He was quite sober compared to the rest of us. Mostly because he knew how drunk I would be getting and somebody had to make sure our new place didn't get destroyed.

I pulled back, offended. "It is not that bad."

"Yes, it is," he laughed.

"So bad you won't kiss me at midnight?" I hung off of him. You'd think we were in some basement in Wakefield.

He moved his hand down to the arch of my back to steady me. "I could never not kiss you."

My eyes snapped over to him, and I raised my eyebrows with a smirk. "Really? I don't recall that being the truth."

He laughed again. "Fair enough." But then he leaned in and kissed me until way after midnight, making out in the kitchen. It was disgusting and I loved the whole thing.

Nick knocked into us as he moved through the kitchen. "I'd tell you to get a room but we're all in it." He laughed, pleased with his joke, and moved to grab another beer.

Later in the evening, Nick threw up on our bed. Nick was the drunkest.

Somewhere around one in the morning, I sat on Alex's lap and his arms were around me, holding me close to him as I talked to Georgia on one side of the couch and Alex talked to Miles on the other side of the couch. We held separate conversations about separate lives but he held me to him and he held me tight.

a/n: sigh, this is all i can think about writing as of late. i am a series girl after all.

#alex turner fic #alex turner x fem!reader #alex turner x oc #alex turner x reader #alex turner x y/n #alex turner x you #alex turner #alex turner smut #junedenim #beneath the boardwalk

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jezabelle9299 · 3 months

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Stress Baking pt.3 S.R x fem!Reader

Quick Notes- More super cute fluff, Reader's boss sucks. Reader is taking an art-focused chemistry class, and is kind of struggling. (I wish I could be good at science so bad but I am endlessly confused.)

1 hour left. Then you get to go home, shower, and way overthink everything Penelope said to you. You were just finishing some of your paperwork when your boss came up to your desk. You plastered on a big fake smile in greeting.

“Y/N. I don’t know what you did, but those BAU boys seem to like you.” Oh cool, he wasn’t going to yell at you, just condescend. And write off the accomplishments of the female agents. Great.

“That’s nice.”

“Well Maria called in sick, and honestly, it’s probably best if they can keep going with the same person all night. So I need you to pull a double shift, alright?” Awesome. This is just awesome. He wasn’t really asking. Saying no would get you a lecture on being a team player, and an hour of hell while he tries to make you feel guilty. Staying would mean exhaustion, but in addition to being able to afford your tuition for the semester, you could splurge on some online shopping. Plus at least the overnight shift was quiet, not much call for a receptionist at 1 in the morning. You grit your teeth and pretend this isn’t a huge inconvenience as you reply.

“Sure! Shift ends at 3am right?” He gave a vaguely affirmative shrug and walked off. Nice, really feeling the appreciation. You were in for the long haul now, so you walked over to the break room for some more coffee.

You were alone in the breakroom, so you popped in some headphones to try and get your energy up. With music blasting at eardrum-rupturing volume, you tossed one more look over your shoulder to make sure no one else was there. Confident you were alone, you started quietly singing along as you got the coffee started. Then you reached for your favorite mug, which someone had unfortunately put on the top shelf, just barely out of reach. When you got up on your toes to try and reach it, a hand came from behind you, and grabbed it for you. Your balance was not great in this position, and that startled you just enough to knock you off balance. A strange man’s hand coming out of nowhere, right in your space, then before you knew it your ankle gave way and the same hand that startled you was wrapped around your waist as you let out a frankly embarrassing yelp. That was followed by an even more embarrassing fit of manic laughter as he touched the ticklish part of your hip when he props you back up.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I thought you heard me come in, I didn’t mean to startle you- and then, uh-touch. I’m so sorry.” He was freaking out about his, actually very welcome touch, so you attempted to be cool and reassuring. Even though you were totally freaking out too, for a completely different reason.

“It’s ok! It’s really-it’s fine. I was just distracted, and was listening to some loud music so I didn’t hear you.” But it was totally awkward now, both of your faces redder than a tomato. He backed away quickly after making sure you were back on balance, but you could still feel the heat of his closeness. And oh my god he smelled good. You searched for a change of subject while he got the mug down and set it gently on the counter in front of you.

“So-um Dr.Reid, how are things going in there with you guys?” You started pouring some coffee, grabbing one of the precinct mugs for Dr.Reid and pouring some coffee for him as well.

“Oh! Thank you that’s really-you’re really-nice. It’s going alright, I think we’re getting close. Our boss is filing a warrant request now, and we hope to find a pretty good break. Also you-uh you don’t have to call me doctor, just Spencer is fine.” Well if that wasn’t the most perfect name.

“That’s nice, Spencer, it’s a good name for you. And, I’m glad the investigation is going well.” He blushed at the complement as he passed you the sugar.

“Not that I’m not happy to talk to you, but haven’t you been here a while? I figured you would’ve had a shift change by now.”

“Oh yeah, the reception desk has a different shift schedule than the officers, so it’s easier to pass on messages in stuff. My shift was supposed to end in an hour, but the next girl called in sick. So it looks like you guys are stuck with me until 3!”

“That’s great us-I mean you know the team, because you know you’re very- very good at your job” You couldn’t help but smile, both at the compliment and his flusteredness. You really liked him, and after your conversation with Penelope you thought maybe he liked you too. Now you were near certain.

“So-um, what are you working on?” It took you a second to realize what he meant, as you’d gotten distracted by the very urgent matter of staring at his forearms while he stirred his coffee.

“Hm? Oh, I’m just studying. I’m working on my degree right now, but I have this chemistry class as part of it and it is not my strong suit. The class I’m taking is chemistry in art conversation, so super cool, but super difficult.”

“That is really cool, I could help you, if you like. I have a PhD in chemistry. And engineering. And mathematics. But I could help you study.” He looked more nervous with every accomplishment he mentioned, even though that only made him more compelling to you.

“Really? That would be amazing, but I don’t want to tear you away from your work.”

“It’s fine, we have to wait for the warrant request to be approved before we can do anything else anyway. So I’m…all yours for the next half hour or so.” All yours? You couldn’t help but smile at that idea. Even though the reality was probably going to be you two, sitting a professional distance apart, as you fumble through flashcards in the middle of the precinct for all to see. But the chance to spend more time with Spencer was well worth that particular embarrassment. You looked up at him so he could see your appreciation of the offer on your face.

“That would be great! Thank you so much, Spencer.” you just had to try out his first name again, it just felt…right saying it.

“I’ll pull up an extra chair to my desk and meet you there?” you offered, grabbing your mug from the counter.

“Yeah, I’ll be right there as soon as I check in with the team, just to let them know where I’ll be.” You gave a quick nod and started the walk back to your desk. This was your chance if there ever was one. You just wished Penelope was close enough for you to ask her advice before he came back.

______________________________________________________________________

You wanted him to help you. You thought his name suited him. You were wonderful. You were single.

He got most of that from just being near you for the past hours, the last part however, came straight from Penelope. After plenty of relentless teasing from Derek and Emily after your first meeting, she pulled him into her makeshift cave for the ensuing interrogation.

“Boy wonder, finally, you’re here. I only have like 3 minutes until this program is done, since this ancient system is keeping me from doing anything else in the meantime. So let’s hurry this along. You’re like in love with that sweet little receptionist right?”

His cheeks flamed and he knew he was caught. Derek teased him about almost every woman he talked to, but Penelope had never done this before. He had to make some attempt to be cool.

“What? Garcia, no?” He squeaked it out at twice his usual speaking pace though, with his voice even cracking halfway through. She saw right through him, rolling her eyes, and setting down the pen she was holding.

“Ok, I may only be a profiler by association, but you totally love her. And thanks to my fantastic sleuthing I found out she’s single. So go forth and live happily ever after, thank me later.” With that her computer chimed and she shoved him back out the door just in time to see you disappear into the break room.

He was walking back to the conference room to tell them where he'd be as quickly as he could without raising suspicion. He didn’t tell them about what happened in the break room, in an effort to minimize the teasing so that he could get back to you quickly. Although Derek still clapped him on the back for his “game”.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #dr spencer reid

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qrosewinter · 8 months

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Toxic

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Description : Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3... To be continued.

Summery: Where a girl from New Zealand goes to brooklyn to live with her Auntie and Uncle, mets a brooklyn boy with secrets and a voice like honey with pretty hazel green eyes.

Where a brooklyn boy mets a girl from New Zealand with an accent he's never heard before, who he can't seem to forget.

And a Polynesian girl struggling to find who she is in the concrete jungle of NYC so far from home.

The start of the most unlikely relationship between two people starts to bloom, between a brooklyn boy who's just a little misunderstood.

Will this relationship bloom or stay untouched? Maybe we should let fate take the lead for this one.

Fic summary: slow burn, obvious to flirting, a little bit of angst, romance, revenge, anger.

WARNINGS ⚠️: Horrible attempts at slang, Horrible attempts at Spanish, Swearing, Weapons, Gore, Drugs, Alcohol, Mature themes, Spelling mistakes.

Chapter 2: Am I seeing shit again.

Are you hearing voices again? -Unknown

It's been about 3-4 days since I went to Visions and walked right into someone making a damn fool out of myself, but then again, what's new?

Not gonna lie it wasn't one of my best moments how awkward I felt I mean like, why in hells name did I say 'Have a good day' so god dammed awkwardly, why the fuck did I even say it at all!?

Could have said something like, "Well, sorry about that, but I gotta go, see ya. But not you had to go and say".

'Have a good day?', if I could punch myself so hard right now to make myself forget I ever said that I would, in a heartbeat.

But too bad you can't now can you :/

I'll be starting at Visions next week though, so I guess I have more chances to male myself out to be a fool, they did tell me during my little interview thing or whatever you wanna call it.

They didn't have any dormrooms ready for me at the moment.

so I won't be moving to the dorms anytime soon, which is fair.

I did so happen to start up at that school. What? A little past first term or semester, I think they call it here in America?

I don't know. I'm still trying to wrap my head around the education system here, and I still don't understand a damn thing.

But anyway, I won't be put in a dorm room yet until they find an either an empty one or someone without a roommate, which I don't think will happen anytime soon.

But the good news is I don't live very far from school. The bad news is I'd have to wake up earlier to get ready and be out the door before school starts, which sucks ass.

But beggers can't be choosers, so I'll take it, means I won't have to share a room with someone I don't know that's a plus, I guess.

Still don't know how I'll handle seeing that guy. It'll be awkward. That's for

《 ○ 》

"Y/N!" My Auntie lily yelled from the kitchen, and I snapped out of my thoughts and looked away from the little notebook I was writing in seated at my desk.

"Yeah?" I called back out to her as I leaned back in my desk chair, tilting my head towards the door and waiting for a response.

But when I didn't get one, I groaned, frustrated, and rolled my eyes.

I hated when people did that. Even when parents did that, call out your name to get your attention, but don't say a damn thing, so you gotta get up to see what they want.

Only to be asked to do the most simplistic things ever, like pass them the TV remote.

But it's right in front of them on the coffee table, or they don't even remember anymore and tell you never mind.

I got up grumbling to myself under my breath as I walked out of my bedroom.

in the simplest outfit of an oversized black hoodie with a small red and white mushroom on the front over my left breast and two bigger ones on the back, with the words 'Let's take a trip' and just some simple army green shorts that used to be pants before I cut them up into shorts.

My hair was pulled back messily into an attempt at a bun before I gave up and left it as is.

I walked down the hallway towards the kitchen, my bare feet barely making any sound on the carpet until I got to the kitchen.

And I leaned against the doorframe. "Yeah?" I said to my auntie, lazily raising an eyebrow at her with my hands stuffed into my hoodie pocket.

"Ah there you are, Me haere koe ki te toa maku ki te tiki i etahi mea maku, he rarangi takuKa taea e koe te haere ki te toa maku, ki te tiki etahi mea, he rarangi taku me etahi moni hei tiki." my Auntie said to me as she said to me as she picked up a list she had written out for me and held it out for me to take, along with a few bills to pay for everything on the list.

I groaned tipping my head back "ko te iwa i te po ka hiahia koe kia haere ahau ki te toa ko ahau anake" I said back to her as I dropped my head forward and took the list and money reluctantly.

"Yes, you'll be fine. Just take a knife and put it in your pocket." My Auntie huffed at me, waving my words off as she turned around to finish putting the dishes away.

I grumbled but didn't complain openly at least as I plucked a semi-sharp knife from the knife block and shoved it into my pocket as I turned and walked back to my room to get my jandels (Flip flops for the Americans :) )

I slipped them on, pulled my hood up over my messy hair shoved the list and money into my pocket along with putting my phone in my back pocket and taking just one earbud out of my JBL case and putting it in my ear.

Before I left the apartment, after going down some stairs out of the apartment building.

I tapped the side of my earbud about two times to skip through the songs I didn't want to listen too until I settled on 'Never enough by Six60' a classic song from a band back home.

"Still can't shake the feelin' in my bones, it won't leave me, it won't let me go," I sung under my breath to myself as I kept walking down the dark empty streets to the store about three blocks away.

It was dark besides a few lightposts lining the streets, some flickering others doing just fine. Brooklyn in the daytime was so different compared to the nighttime.

At night, it was dangerous. You had to keep your guard up, and I wasn't stupid. I knew crime ran wild at night in brooklyn.

I'd seen enough of it on TV, hearing people tall about it, and so on. It's the reason this city had a curfew, and why it kept getting early depending on just how bad it kept getting, and so far, it was getting worse before it's ever going to get better.

The once lively streets looked so much darker, like something out of a horror movie, not a sound besides the faint buzzing of streetlights.

feral cats digging through trash, the odd whisper of something in the alleyways and the sound of TV's playing from inside buildings.

But I wasn't completely dumb, I knew as quiet as it was, as empty as everything seemed around me.

I wasn't actually alone out here tonight, there was others out here, none with good intentions and anyone who did.

well, let's just say they wouldn't be there for long.

which is the reason my aunt made me take a knife with me for self-defense.

And what I knew I had to do was keep an eye out so I was, I kept an eye on my surroundings.

but made sure to make myself look relaxed and not all tense knowing that I'll just draw attention to myself if I did.

I glanced up and around me, though the streets were dangerous at night. I couldn't help but find them strangely beautiful too.

The way the stars just barely, peeked through the clouds in the sky under the pollution in the air, the way the street lights cast light on curtain parts of the streets and slowly left the others bathed in darkness.

The way the colours played off of everything around me was just in a strangely weird and beautiful. It's in its own dark twisted kinda way, of course, but still had a certain charm to it.

"There was a time when you would've given me everything that you own, The only thing you left me was alone.." I sung to myself under my breath as I kept my hands in my pocket.

my right hand gripping the handle of the knife loosely judt in case.

I sighed softly, sqinting my eyes as i looked in front of me.

I was tired from not sleeping properly the past few nights.

for some reason staying up until five in the morning then going to sleep, which yes I know is fucking stupid.

But I just couldn't get to sleep, for some stupid reason or another.

But still, I kept walking. I had just 2 more blocks to go before I hit the store to grab a few things, and then I could go home, collapse in bed, and die until tomorrow afternoon hopefully.

~I guess our time is up, I've given you too much, I just need to keep on movin', cause I still crave your touch, why won't you fade to dust?~

~so I can line you up, enough is never enough (ooh-ooh), enough is never enough(ooh-ooh), with every single does (oh-oh-oh), losin' all control (oh-oh-oh), never is never enough(ooh-ooh)~

( Miles's POV)

Meanwhile, with Miles....

~as I walk though the valley of the shadow of death, I take a look at myself and realize there's nothin' left, 'cause I've been blastin' and laughin' so long that, even my mama thinks that my mind is gone~

Miles hummed along to the music playing in his ears from his earbuds plugged into his phone shoved I his front pocket, as he he slipped on his jacket, a a dark purple nearing black in the low light of his Uncle's apartment.

Just another night as the prowler, and another night of getting his Mami the supplies she needed for the hospital she worked at.

so underfunded sometimes patients who needed their medicine who didn't get it in time, didn't make it.

~but I ain't never crossed a man who didn't deserve it, me be treated like a punk, you know that's unheard of, you better watch how ya talkin' and where ya walkin'~

Music was one of the ways Miles pumped himself up as he got ready to go out there with hi mask on, on the streets that he remembered used to be so beautiful before the corruption sunk its claws into his city and with it his Dad.

~or you and your homies might be lined in chalk, I really hate to trip but I gotta loc, as they croak, I see myself in pistol smoke, fool, I'm the kind of G that little homies wanna be like, on my knees in the night, sayin' prayers in the steertlights~

Miles clenched his jaw and shook his head, rolling his shoulders.

'Naw ain't got time to think like that, get your in the game Miles' he thought to himself as he finished suiting up, he took one look at himself in the reflection of the windows in his Uncle's living room and stood a little straighter.

~we've been spendin' most their lives livin' in a gangsta's paradise, we've been spendin' most their lives livin' in a gangsta's paradise, we've keep spendin' most our lives livin' in a gangsta's paradise, we've been spendin' most our lives livin' in a gangsta's paradise~

'I'm gonna make you proud Dad, swear it' Miles thought as he took his earbuds out and unplugged them from his phone the music of 'Gangsta's paradise by Coolio, L.V' spilling from his phone as his mask smoothly slid over his face.Lookingng back at Miles was the prowler in his reflection.

"Ay Neph time to ,go," Uncle Aaron called out from the door, and Miles nodded.

"On my way, Unc," Miles said to Aaron, his voice distorted by the voice changer in his mask as he made his way to the door.

Long since having paused his music as he put his gloves on with a Sharp click.

~look at the situation they got me facin', I can't live a normal life, i was raised by the stripes, so I gotta be down with the hood team, too much television watchin' got me chasin' dreams, I'm an educated fool with money on my mind, got a ten in my hand and a gleam in my eye~

Miles followed Aaron to the rooftop of the apartment, building his clawed hands clenching and unclenching as he walked.

"You remember the plan?" Aaron said, walking in front of miles looking through his phone at the time, before he tucked his phone back in his pocket

"Mm, I remember get the shit be in be out," Miles muttered to his uncle as they made it to the rooftop, and he looked over the buildings around them.

Some had fires going on top of them, others didn't, but you could see the gleam of neon lights of tall skyscraper buildings in the distance and people moving around under the glow of lights shining though there apartment windows.

~I'm a loc'd out gangsta, set trippin' banger, and my homies is down, so don't arouse my anger, fool, death ain't nothin' but a heartbeat away~

"Got yo earpiece?" Aaron asked Miles before he got ready to leave, handing Miles a black backpack.

"Yeah, it's in," Miles replied as he shrugged on the bag, Aaron handed him.

"Eyes sharp," Aaron said to Miles, nodding at him, standing back and tapping his earpiece in his own ear to turn it on.

"Mind steady," Miles said back with a nod before he was off using his grappling hook in hand to swing odd through the city under cover of the night towards the docs where a new shipment of medical supplies were waiting.

~I'm livin' my life do-or-die, uh, what can I say, I'm 23 now, but will I live to see 24?, with way things is goin', I don't know, tell me why are we so blind to see, the ones we hurt are you and me~

Miles weaved in and out of alleyways High above on the air, flipping through the air and rolling along the side of buildings to build momentum as he headed for the docs using his titanium claws to grip onto the ledges of buildings to throw himself forward.

~we've been spendin' most their lives livin' in a gangsta's paradise~

//////////

(Y/N's POV)

Seeing the store up ahead, I signed in relief.

"Thank fuck man" I grumbled under my breath as I pushed the door open and walked inside taking the list out of my pocket pocket I picked up a basket nearby from the door.

And started on my walk around the store for the items on the list my Auntie gave me.

"Dried chilli's, tortilla's, milk, bread and a juice" I mumbled under my breath reading over the list with a nod to myself as I repeated over and over in my head what was needed as I shoved the list in my pocket.

I walked around the store, throwing what was needed into the basket, and then, lastly, the juice.

I grunted softly, feeling how heavy the basket was now. The juice was in it.

"Damn," I muttered under my breath, gripping the handles of the basket just a little tighter as I walked towards checkout.

I paused, looking down at a shelf with some lollies on it- sorry, correction candies, my bad, I forgot I was in America.

I snorted softly to myself, amused as I picked up an interesting looking candies I'd never seen before or tired.

"Milk duds? Looks interesting, " I muttered to myself, and with a shurg, I dropped the box in the basket, a little treat for myself when I was walking home.

Making it to checkout, I set my basket on the counter.

"Hi, just these, please," I said politely to the casher, who looked like she'd rather be anywhere but here right now.

I shoved my hands in my hoodie pocket, standing there a little awkwardly as she checked them out for me.

'Mood, I feel you, my G', I thought to myself, glancing up at the girl at the counter, checking out my items for me.

She was actually really pretty, dark skinned with cornrows, and really pretty blue eyes that contrasted beautifully with her skin.

"That'll be $36.50, cash or card?" The girl spoke up a little drly, sounding tired, which is fair, so I didn't hold it against her.

"Cash, thank you," I said to her with a small smile as I counted out two $20's from the cash my Auntie gave to me and handed it to her.

"You wanna a bag?" She asked me as she counted out my change, which came to $3.50 as she handed it to me, and I took it, putting the change in my pocket.

"Yes, please," I said to her as she bagged up my items and handed me the bag.

"Thank you, have a good night," I said to her before I left, more in habit really from growing up in New Zealand, anytime.

"Mm," the girl muttered as she went back to playing on her phone, what she had been doing before I got to check out.

And I once more started on my walk home, glancing up at the sky every once in awhile hoping to see stars but only really managing to see planes or helicopters flying around

I frowned in disappointment before shrugging it off with a sigh.

With the bag of stuff in my left hand, I reached into my pocket with my right hand for my phone and used my fingerprint ID to open it.

I scrolled through my playlists, looking for a song to listen to as I walked, something I was in the mood for.

I scrolled for a bit as I walked every once in awhile looking up to make sure I didn't walk into anything, as I kept scrolling not finding a song I was interested in as I switched between another playlist had.

And when I thought I found a song, I heard the rustling of clothes, pained grunts, and low voices speaking coming up ahead from an alleyway.

I kept walking curiosity peeked, even in my tired state. i couldn't help but be nosey.

I shoved my phone back in my pocket, coming to a stop next to the alleyway, and I turned my head to look down it.

And there was a man being pinned to a wall, an arm against his throat making it hard to breathe for the overweight white man, a hand pinned to the wall by metal claws gleaming in the faint moonlight.

And the one holding the overweight man, he was interesting, to say the least.

Purple and black dominating his outfit, from the shoes to the accessories on his clothes, a mask over his face, like pixels on an old ass box TV, the kind before flat screen TVs, but not really as pixilated as yours think.

And two braids running down the back of his head that looked familiar stopping just past his shoulders.

They both seemed to pause after hearing my foot steps and turned to look at me.

But me being tired, overly exhausted, blinked at them lazily and confused, my brows frowned.

"Fuck I need to sleep more I'm starting to hallucinate again" I grumbled to myself my voice echoing a little down the alleyway as I started walking away rubbing at my eyes unimpressed at myself.

Just chalking what I saw up to my imagination fucking with me for not sleeping properly, honestly wouldn't be the first time, always had a shitty sleeping schedule.

Very few times I'd get the maximum eight hours of sleep, I'd either go to bed between 11pm to about 5am, cause I'm that stupid to stay up that late, only to be pissed off and tired the next day.

I shrugged and let my hand drop from my eyes.

I walked slightly hunched and legs feeling heavy, it felt like my legs were gonna give out on me, but well mama didn't raise no bitch, so we keep on going.

I didn't realise when I started daydreaming, or maybe i was dissociating again?, who knows.

But by the time I snapped out of it, I was home, standing in front of my apartment door, before I ever realized where I was.

"Mm," I mumbled to myself, paying it no mind as I opened the door and stepped inside, kicking off my jandels by the side of the door.

"I'm back," I called out as I walked into the kitchen and dropped the bag on the kitchen counter, digging through it for my milk duds I got.

Once I had the box in hand, I shoved it into my pocket and wondered off to my room.

"Any trouble well you were out, bub!" Lily called out from the living room.

"Nah, it was algoods, Auntie!" I called back out to her as I crawled into bed, flinching just a little when I felt something sharp poke my stomach.

Reaching into my hoodie pocket, I dumped out everything that was in it, from my phone, the change and extra cash I was given, my milk duds, and finally, the knife I forgot I had.

"Forgot about that," I mused to myself as I dumped the change and knife on my bedside table, picked up the box of chocolate covered lollies, and opened the box.I dumpedng a few in my hand before popping them on my mouth and chewing.

I scrunched my nose up at the taste. It wasn't the best candy I'd ever had or lollie for that matter, tasted too well fake to me, far too artificial then anything I'd ever tasted before.

So I dropped the box of sweets on my nightstand and picked up my water bottle. I always left on my bedside table and took a swing to wash out my mouth with a small grimace.

"Well that was disappointing" I muttered to myself setting my water bottle back down, as I picked up my phone and slid down more in my bed to get comfortable as I pulled the blankets up to my neck.

Turning it on, I went onto Tiktok and used the automatic scrolling feature, as well as plugged my phone in as I propped my phone up against the wall.

Watching the random videos that played as my eyes grew heavy.

Before sleep finally claimed me, and I was out like a light.

(MILES POV)

Miles had just gotten home after taking a bit of a detour after dropping off the supplies at his Mami's hospital.

He grunted as he kicked off his shoes, and dropped his jacket on the floor, taking off the black collar around his neck that held his mask and dropped it into a box he kept all his dad's all accessories and his own.

He stripped off the layers of his Prowler suit and replaced it with his own tank top and some sweats before putting on his purple durag that had little gold crowns on it over his braids.

He then picked up the pieces of his suit and dropped them into a box he took aw, y hidden in his closet.

He then dropped onto his bed with a si. Onene had taken behind his head as he picked up his phone to check for any messages from his mami.

He tapped on his Mami's contact after seeing an unread message from her.

'Gonna be working late again tonight, leftovers are in the microwave, Te amo duerme dormido ❤️'

Miles signed softly, another night shift. Made him glad he cleaned the house before heading over to his uncle's.

He pulled his hand out from behind his hand and started to type a message.

'Te amo Mami, no trabajes tan duro ❤️'

He hit send, plugged his phone in, and shifted to pull his blankets over himself as he rolled over to go to sleep.

'That girl again, huh shame I still ain't know her name,' Miles thought to himself amused.

Remembering how those sleepy tired eyes had looked at him tonight, or should he say the prowler.

How she had looked at the prowler had convinced herself what she'd seen was nothing but hallucinations cause she was so tired.

He was sure he'd see her again, and he knew just like the first time, and the second it'll just be as interesting as the first.

Then maybe, just maybe next time he'd know where she was from, know what that accent she had was.

Until then, he'd sleep. He had school tomorrow after all.

So he shut his eyes, got comfortable, and let himself relax enough to maybe, this time, sleep a full night.

And if not, well, he'd deal with it in the morning.

Hi! Sorry for the delay in this chapter, I'm gonna try and write at least two before I post another and work on a schedule to be able to post them.

I try and work on them when I'm not busy at home, and when I'm not busy at work, I'll let you guys know now. Until then, happy reading.

Translation:

Ka taea e koe te haere ki te toa maku, ki te tiki etahi mea, he rarangi taku me etahi moni hei tiki. = can you go to the shop for me, and get a few things, i have a list and some money to get them.

ko te iwa i te po ka hiahia koe kia haere ahau ki te toa ko ahau anake = it's nine at night and you want me to go to the store by myself

Te amo duerme dormido = I love you, sleep tight.

Te amo Mami, no trabajes tan duro = I love you Mommy, don't work too hard.

#Spotify #42 miles morales #earth 42 miles x you #miles g morales x reader #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x female reader #prowler miles #42 miles morales x reader #miles g x reader #miles x y/n

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isalisewrites · 25 days

Text

A ramble on writing where August granted me Godhood

If you’ve been following me, then you know just how much June and July sucked. They sucked really bad. They MONUMENTALLY sucked. My classes were killing me, causing me so much stress. I learned just how much I fucking hate business, good lord. I never wanted to talk about a PESTEL assignment for as long as I fucking live. I was struggling and at a really low point in my year. I spent my days just trying to get through it all. I could barely take care of myself outside of the classes, too.

And then I got covid during the final week and a half of my classes.

Fuck this shit, I thought.

What the hell am I killing myself for?

I mentally tapped out. I was done. I stopped caring and, oddly enough, I managed to get through my final week of the semester without dying of stress. I got all As in my classes. Yay, I guess.

But since then, my overall heart rate has dropped by 15 points. I’m so much calmer and my anxiety is completely gone.

And I started writing again.

If June and July were my lowest points in the year, August has been the highest point of the year. It has been my most fulfilling month of the year and I’m so grateful for it. I desperately needed a month to transform myself.

August is now the month with the highest word count of the year.

I had one goal going into this month: return to my 700 words a day. As I began to write each day, it was hard getting back into the swing of things. I’d gotten covid at the end of July, so recovery from that was still going on in the beginning of August. Mornings were exhausting, but in the evenings, I’d get some writing done.

And then, something changed.

At 3am in the middle of the night, I went to bed with a little brainworm of Voldemort saving Harry from the Dursleys, a Dadmort story. I woke up without really planning on doing anything for it. That afternoon, I was chatting with my friend, AJ, about our other story, Badger Prey, and getting excited again about the Tom Riddle/Newt Scamander pairing. When I told her my little brainworm idea, I paused for a moment and asked, “What if I added Newt to this?”

And that’s when Elysium's Sanctuary sparked to life.

My ability to write exploded.

You can visibly see the spike since August 13th. I’ve written exponentially more each day since that Tuesday. I was on fire. I felt alive once more. Not only that, by creating the habit of writing every day and writing more, I was able to get writing done on some of my original stories, too. I reached 5k one of these days, a feat I haven’t been able to reach in years.

This has been an amazing month.

Sometimes people will say that you don’t have to write every day or you shouldn’t write every day, but I disagree a bit. If I stopped writing every day or took entire days as a break, I’d lose momentum. I’d lose the excitement and spark that’s alive within me. Writing every day is healing and cathartic. I never want to stop, even on the days where I’m struggling.

I never want to stop.

I updated 14 times this month. Every one of my stories has been updated at least once. I've made progress on Terrible, But Great, too. I posted a new story and updated it 9 times. My confidence has returned. I feel invincible in my writing. It truly feels like I’m alive again.

Best month of the year.

Let’s see if September can beat August~

Until next month.

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code-es · 1 year

Text

Last day of school (first day of break)

ft pics from my walks

let today = new Date(16 June 2023);

Today was the last day of school, and now I am officially done with all the "studying" part of my education and I am very conflicted in how I feel about it.

Next semester is going to be individual projects, and then internships, and in approx 9 months from today I will be getting my diploma and hopefully land a job. 9 months is less time from today to when I created this blog, which is like wtf cause in itself it doesn't feel like too long ago!

Creating this blog was one of the best things i did for myself during my studies. Even though maybe I have not been as active with my own content as i was originally planning to, I've really found support in this community and knowing that I am not alone on this journey. If you're thinking of starting your own codeblr: do it!! You don't have to be the most active, or the best at what you do, any content is worth sharing in my opinion. If not for others, then for yourself, to look back and see how far you've made it. All victories are worth celebrating, no matter how small.

Going into this summer break and the next chapter approaching with internships and my individual project, I am honestly feeling a bit apathic. I struggle with chronic depression and anxiety, but alongside being a ruthless perfectionist I am able to pass my courses and do what I need to do to barely meet my own (very ambitious) standards, but it takes a toll on me, and these last few weeks of school were unlike anything I have experienced before as far as mental health x school goes. But I fkn made it!! Nice walks help (the times I can convince myself to go out) (pictured in the images hehe), showing up even when i feel like crap helps, and accepting support from close ones help.

I think it's difficult to open up and share my mental health struggles, both online and offline, but I am hoping this makes someone else feel less alone. Living, let alone studying, with mental health struggles is ass. It fucking sucks and it can feel like walking in deep water while others are swimming past you and telling you to just do the same. (omg wow so deep analogy) If only it were that easy lol. But we are so strong! and wether you are pursuing a degree/career or just trying to manage life, you're gonna kick ass, one step at the time.

Happy coding and happy summer to my fellow northern hemispher-ers 😎

#codeblr #studyblr #mental health #frontend development #frontend developer #studyspo #uni #university #light academia #programming #progblr #software developer #How did i originally make the date 16 july #can you tell im stressed lmao...

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my-castles-crumbling · 6 months

Note

Hi Cas,

So I just found out that you're a teacher and I have been struggling with school quite a lot lately so i could really use some advice.

Let me give u some background context, before COVID I used to be a straight A student, in like all subjects except maths ( i used to get Bs , which was kinda ok).

But during covid, I like stopped studying as hard as I used to which has a very bad effect on my academics now that I've returned to school.

My studying capacity has really reduced and i really really struggled to maintain a good GPA in these previous academic years. ( i passed my mind sem exam by 2%) And now I'm going to start a new academic session (bcoz the next 2 academic sessions r literally one of the most important years of my education) and I need to get my shit together, I did some self reflection and have realised that I waste a lot of time on my phone & laptop and even when I'm not using them i just waste a lot of time but just lying in bed and doing nothing.

I just finished a semester with a very stressful period of exams and have some free time on my hands (like 15 days ig), and I really want to use this time fruitfully.

So as a teacher, what do you suggest I do?

p.s- thank you so much for listening to all our problems and giving advice, you're like a guardian angel and i really appreciate what you're doing. ♥️♥️

Hi hon!

First, I think it's amazing that you're reflecting and wanting to do better, especially at your age. It's difficult to make those realizations, you know?

Also, I want you to know that you are absolutely not alone. SO many people are struggling after covid.

I think the biggest things to put in place, especially as school gets tougher (which is natural as you get older) are strong study habits, organization, and time management. You can't always control the difficulty of classes, but you CAN control how you deal with that.

So, over the next few weeks, I'd suggest taking some time to first, get yourself organized. If you don't already have one, come up with a system that works to keep all your books, notes, assignments, etc in order. And then STICK to it.

Next, practice some different ways of time management. Do you work better with lists or a planner? Alarms on your phone? Rewarding yourself after every twenty minutes of work with a Tumblr break, or just getting the whole assignment done at once? Reflect on how you manage your time best and make sure those systems are put in place before classes start. Then, STICK to them.

Last, reflect on your study habits. What's the best way for you to study? Do you prefer to read information? Rewrite it in notes? Say it aloud? Make flashcards? Some other way? If you're not sure, try each one. Knowing the best way to study for YOU will help you later when you have tests so you're not wasting time making flashcards if you really benefit more by reading.

Once you figure all this out, make sure to stick to it. Even when it sucks. Because if you do, you won't get as overwhelmed when things start to get tougher. I'll be honest with you, I literally started using a time management strategy I hadn't used since high school just the other day because I had so many things going on and it was SO helpful!

Remember, you've got this! I believe in you!

(Also I am naming you student anon in case you want to write again!)

#ask #asks #ask cas #student anon

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skarlette1 · 1 year

Text

Pearl Girls: Cocked and Loaded

–Part of the Pearl Girls series.

“That bitch Alexis Ames is going to pay for daring to lay hands on me,” Professor Patriarchy growled as he reclined against the dark leather of his bed’s padded headboard. He still wore the tuxedo shirt from last night’s Trustee’s Ball, but his pants sat on the dresser where I’d neatly folded them in preparation for dry cleaning.

I had never paid too much mind to my own clothes when I was just Yvonne Yates, college student, and I was rather hard on my costumes as the superheroine Sable. However, Professor Patriarchy was such a great man that he made me understand the importance of caring properly for everything that touched his skin.

At the moment, the most important thing touching his precious skin was the mouth of my roommate Thora Thames. She lay on her belly between the Professor’s thighs, her head bobbing up and down on his thick, manly shaft. I had my hands buried in her blond hair, pressing the subtle pressure points that would manipulate her brain, exactly like the Professor had taught me. I’d been sucking the Professor’s cock all semester and knew precisely how much suction he preferred, exactly where he liked a little tongue pressure, and how much spit to let dribble from my lips around his shaft. Thora had only learned her place at the Professor’s heel a few days ago, so her experience was limited. It was up to me to work her mouth like a puppet around his cock. Plus, her mouth was smaller than mine, and her lips softer. Of course the Professor would desire her tight throat and my honed technique combined into one beautiful blowjob. It was only fitting that he got the best of everything.

I wasn’t jealous that the Professor visited so much more attention on Thora than me these past few days. It didn’t make sense for a woman to be jealous at all. Jealousy was a feeling of anger about someone else getting something that you thought belonged to you. The Professor had showed me that nothing belonged to me—not my desires, not my pleasure, not my body, not my mind. All of me belonged to him.

“When that uptight bitch Ames finally learns her place, I’m going fuck her up the ass so hard that my cum spurts out her nostrils.” Professor Patriarchy tweaked and twisted both my nipples in frustration. I couldn’t contain my squeal of shock-and-pleasure. He preferred when I was seen and not heard, but the touch of his hands on my heavy breasts was amazing. Plus, I was filled with gratitude that even if my mouth couldn’t please him, my titties still could. Combined, the pleasure was too much to keep bottled inside.

The Professor was so angry, he didn’t even notice my lapse of control. He kept venting. “With Ames as the Dean’s lapdog, I need a plan to teach the bitch her proper place. Plans require information.” He closed his eyes, still scowling. Only a tiny growl in the back of his throat let me know how much he was relishing the feel of Thora’s tonsils against his cock. I smiled, proud at how well I was puppetting my roommate in sucking him off.

The Professor’s eyes snapped open and gazed right through me. “You’re a student, slut. What do you know about her?”

“Me, Professor?”

“Of course, you, slut. The Material Girl won’t be saying much with her mouth full of meat, will she?”

“Um, no, Professor,” I stammered.

“Then let me break it down into small, specific questions for your tiny, female brain: How many of Alexis Ames’ classes did you take?”

I’d learned my place too well to even consider lying to him. “None, Professor.”

“None?” He squeezed my nipples harder. “But she pulled you aside at the Trustee’s Ball. She spoke to you like she knew you. Why?”

“Because she does know me, Professor. Or, knew me, before you taught me my proper place.”

“If you weren’t her student, what kind of relationship could you possibly have?”

“She was my … “ I struggled for the right words to make him understand. While I could never lie to the Professor, I couldn’t imagine he would understand just what it meant to be the superheroine Sable, standing at Argent’s side. The superheroic life was so outlandish, bizarre, and downright weird. Someone of such noble aspirations, cultured tastes, and rarefied ideas as Professor Patriarchy would find it … ridiculous. I had learned my place at his heel so so deeply that I wanted to impress him more than anything in the world. Perhaps I could put it in terms that, while honest, made me seem less like a freak in his eyes. “She was my … mentor.”

“The woman nearly twisted my arm off! That’s quite a passionate reaction for a mentor. There’s nothing else?”

He had me cornered. I couldn’t lie to him. The most shameful truth would have to come out. “She was also my … um, I was her … I mean, we were … We were lovers.”

“Lovers? Filthy. Cunts licking cunts without a man to please are disgusting.” He let go of my tits, leaving me gasping. Folding his hands behind his head, the Professor continued, “Disgusting, but potentially useful. Ames struck me as a straight arrow. Not someone who would breach decorum to fuck a student, not even one as delectable as you, slut.” Butteflies swirled in my belly when he called me delectable. “Threatening to reveal her serial ethical violations will knock that snotty bitch off her high horse. Tell me, what other students has she taken advantage of?”

“No one, Professor. I was the only student that she … I mean, what we had was ... um … I … I ...” I hung my head in shame. “I seduced her.” While nothing was straightforward about my relationship with Alexis, this was the simplest version of the truth.

“You seduced her? Revolting. You’re lucky I found you and taught you your place.”

“Yes, Professor. I am so very, very lucky you chose to teach me.”

“You certainly are ...” He pondered a few more minutes, thrusting slightly in and out of Thora’s throat. I intensified her suction, hoping to distract him from this train of thought. The Professor’s eyes rolled back and he growled, a sure sign he was close to filling her belly with cum. It made me so happy to please him.

Suddenly, the Professor sat up and pushed Thora off his cock. “I have a plan! It’s flawless. You seduced her once, slut. You will simply do it again.”

“Again?”

“Yes, you’ll act like the arrogant, entitled, repressed bitch that you used to think you were. The kind of cunt you were with her.” He moved close to me on the bed, looming over me. His eyes stared right into my heart. Despite my super strength, I felt so small before weight of his attention. “Get her to take you back.”

“I don’t know, Professor. We haven’t spoken, like, at all, since I learned my proper place. She keeps making excuses not to see me. I don’t ...” My throat clenched, unwilling to speak the words I had never admitted to myself “I don’t think she wants me anymore.”

“No matter how many degrees she has, she’s still just a stupid, needy cunt. She doesn’t know what she wants until a man tell her.” His thick, commanding fingers slid between my legs, drowning my thoughts in lust.

“Alexis isn’t like that. At least, she wasn’t... Oooohhh ... But she was so different at the Trustee’s Ball.” The insistent probing of his fingers between my legs distracted me from reflecting on how different I must have seemed to Alexis.

“Fine. She’s different.” He paused in thought, my pussy clenching helplessly around his thick fingers. “So, use that difference. She tried to rescue you from me at the Ball. Lean into that. Be the victim. Be the helpless little girl trapped by a wicked man, and hoping for her dear lesbian mentor to save her from a fate worse than death. She’ll want to charge in like a goddamn superhero and snatch you away from my evil clutches. That’s when you’ll strike.”

I was so aroused I could barely follow his words. “Strike? You want me to hit Alexis?”

“No! Well, maybe. I want you to get close enough to run your fingers through her hair. Then you can deploy my memory focus technique across her scalp to reshape her thoughts.”

“I don’t know, Professor. Alexis is … um … stronger … than me. Stronger than I ever was.”

“She’s just a bit of trim, like all women are. She can’t possibly be strong enough to resist my focus technique. No woman can. You don’t even need to completely sculpt her mind like you did with this amazing cocksucker with the beauty mark. Just get her relaxed and open enough for me to arrive and finish teaching the bitch her place.”

No one had ever fingered me as hot as Professor Patriarchy. My whole body was on fire. How could I tell him anything but the truth? “I can try, Professor. I just don’t think it’s gonna—”

“Think? No one is asking you to think, slut.” He pulled out his fingers, leaving me trembling with frustrated need. “I have instructed you and you will execute my instructions. I thought you had firmly learned your place...”

I wanted to say anything to make him touch me again. “I did! I did, Professor! I know my place! It’s just that Alexis—”

“This isn’t about her. It’s about you and your place. You obviously need more motivation. Get on your hands and knees, slut.”

I scrambled into position. As uncertain as I was about my ability to capture Alexis for the Professor, I trembled with excitement that he was going to fuck me. My head swam with bliss the moment his cock brushed my drooling pussy lips. When he sank his heavenly seven inches into me, I squealed.

“Lean back into me, slut.”

Spreading my knees for better support, I leaned back. Careful to not disturb his cock’s perfect place inside me, I stretched up and back until I could feel the warmth of the Professor’s chest against my back. Still kneeling, I was almost upright.

“Time to remind you of your place, slut.” Professor Patriarchy’s big, guiding hands gripped my head. Commanding fingers pressed and stroked against my skull, playing my brain like a harpsichord. He stroked behind my ear and my arms spread themselves wide.

“New girl! Grab this slut’s arms and hold her tight.”

Thora took my elbows and pulled them back. She must have been kneeling behind the Professor. We sandwiched him between us. He began to fuck me with slow, precise movements of his hips. The pressure on my head enhanced the pleasure in my pussy. The craving for his cock, for his thrusts, for the orgasm they promised, grew inside me. Some small part of me knew I shouldn’t follow it; knew he was going to use my lust against me—and against Alexis. I should resist the craving.

Should didn’t matter. Professor Patriarchy made the choice for me; one tap of his finger against my temple forced me to chase the orgasm. His thrust, his pace, his angle, they were all perfect. Pleasure flooded my body, drowning me in utter bliss. The more he thrust, the bigger my looming orgasm became. It was irresistible, a toe-curling, soul-crushing, pleasure storm that would explode like fireworks across my soul in just a few more strokes. I moaned with every breath.

A few more strokes and I would crest, cumming all over the Professor’s brilliant cock.

Just a few more strokes to cum. I heard myself whining like some bitch in heat. It barely sounded like me, more like my submissive soul shoved out through my throat. Held helplessly by Thora and the Professor, I could do little more than tremble, and pray for climax quickly. “Please!”

“Begging won’t help you, slut. Only obeying will give you what you crave.”

The Professor shifted his grip on my head. Like throwing gasoline on a fire, my need to cum flared even hotter in my body. “I will obey Professor Patriarchy. I will … oh! Oh! O-bey Professor!”

“You will cum when Alexis submits to me.”

My hips rocked back and forth in a desperate blur, racing to claim the release I needed. My mouth babbled the words his fingers told me to say. “I will cum … ooooohhhh … will cum when Alexis … ohmygodohmygod … when Alexis submits!”

“Good girl. Unngh!” The Professor buried his shaft balls-deep inside me, spurting his sizzling spunk into my throbbing twat. Normally, I would have cum several times already, with the arrival of his glorious orgasm pushing me over the edge into one more climax. But Alexis hadn’t yet submitted. My pussy just throbbed around his twitching cock, milking every drop of sticky sweetness that should have made me cum.

Instead, it just made me want to cum that much more. All I could think about was how amazing it would feel to watch Alexis kneel before Professor Patriarchy. I knew, down deep in my brain stem that there would be no climax for me until her knee touched the floor at his feet. I laid on the bed, shuddering with denial. As Thora gently licked the Professor’s cock clean I knew he’d fucked every bit of resistance out of me.

The undeniable orgasm craving his shaft had inseminated me with was more potent than gunpowder. He’d turned me into his weapon, and like a revolver, I was cocked and loaded.

Nothing would stop me from finding Alexis Ames and teaching her the proper place of all women: groveling at the foot of Professor Patriarchy.

–To Be Continued …

---

Like what you read? Will you buy me a coffee and request something rich to sink my teeth into? Or peek into the depths of my longer fiction?

#skarletteone #mind control #flash fiction #superhero

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sibyl-of-space · 2 years

Audio

actual file name “theworstthingyouveeverheard.mp3″. I hated every second of making it. I think it sucks but I also think it’s incredible because of how much it sucks and because of exactly how galaxy brain lazy and malicious my approach was toward writing it.

Context: I am taking a class that I have been McFreaking Struggling With for most of the semester. The class is focused on making contemporary concert music, which is quite possibly the least appealing avenue for music composition to me specifically for a huge list of reasons including:

- I prefer music that has a visual or other multimedia component - I prefer music that, if I may be snobby, is more melodic than the majority of contemporary concert music - I personally get bored at most concerts despite being a musician myself so have no real desire to attend them or write for them - I feel like a lot of it is an attempt to make music you need a degree to understand, when bands / VGM / other avenues for making music that (again if I may be snobby) sound better to me are right there

I don’t HATE contemporary concert music. I have learned enough 20th century music history to know that it is probably a very bad thing to say “I don’t like this music you are writing so it has no value and you should not be able to write it or have an audience for it.” If writing weird atonal shit is your jam then go for it. I have definitely learned some things about composition from contemporary concert pieces. But it is, decidedly, not my jam.

ENTER THIS CLASS, and our assignment, which is to write a piece that has basically no parameters or guidance and all of the references we listen to in class are - to put it politely - not things I would personally seek out on a YouTube search.

It had to be ~5-7 minutes long with an electronic component and I was really struggling with coming up with that much music for a prompt I couldn’t give less than half a shit about.

So I made this masterpiece, again titled “the worst thing you’ve ever heard,” as a backing track for it, because my approach toward it was “how can I write a lot of bullshit music fast.” It was written to fill a quota of length and it was written out of spite and malice.

So I pulled up an Alchemy preset and smashed keys to generate some sort of pad sounds for like a minute, then I bounced that in place and stretched it out so instead of being 1 minute long it was 3 minutes long, slapped a phaser on it to slightly obscure the fact that it is just 1 Alchemy preset pad, and threw random logic loops that were also stretched out on top. I made it a point to use banjo loops because I thought it would be funny.

(The good news is I hated making this so much that I met with the professor after this and basically got the go-ahead to work off of a completely different prompt and I’m now making a piece I actually genuinely like. Hooray!)

#my audio shit #i am not proud of this but i am also very proud of this #i think it sucks but i also think it is hilarious and i love it because it sucks #this is what Leo's Spite sounds like in sonic form

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meanderingthoughtsofthewretched · 6 months

Text

Back again.

Another night staying up way too late crying because am I’m trying to fall asleep my brain starts dredging up shit. I was done literally less than an hour ago, but now? Crying again and I know I won’t stop for a while unless I actively distract myself, so might as well type here.

I guess I’ll start with the big one. I was not accepted into grad school. Again. For the *third fucking year in a row*. When I first got the news I was sad, sure, but more than that I was just pissed. I tried *so fucking hard* because *no one* was helping me. I don’t know what people want, what they expect, and I’m just flailing around in the dark.

Yeah, I know the first year was my bad. In my defense, I had not clue what I was doing. I spent wayyyyy too long studying for the stupid fuckjng GRE (why the shit do they have math that I haven’t seen since 7th grade????) and not near enough time on the statement of purpose, cv, or resume. But also in my defense, I didn’t know what schools I was trying to apply for because I was *literally* told certain ones I was not allowed to go to (which I bet my dad conveniently forgot he did) and then the ones I found I was told sucked ass. By the time I was told this (because of course no one fucking told me on their own, I had to fuck up first) it was too late to apply for any of the good ones. Yes, I was someone picky, but god forbid the tiny short ass 100 pound soaking wet sheltered kid not want to go across country **by herself** with *no drivers license or car* and no experience living in an apartment. So I applied to where I could and crossed my fingers.

Obviously, that didn’t work out. Year two, I tried to go for one school only, that way I could tailor my letter better. I thought I did good, but the panic attacks I got any time o tried to work on it made it take too long, and one of my profs didn’t get their letter of recommendation in on time, this I was auto denied. Which sucks, but I understood why.

So try again! Except, the time when I could have been connecting with profs, and writing, I had to spend relearning how to drive and then actually taking the damn test. Fuck, I hated that entire experience. I was constantly anxious and panicked, crying myself to sleep most nights and struggling to hold it together in front of my parents, who were acting like it was the easiest thing in the world to do and didn’t understand why I was struggling. I had to redo everything because wow! Paperwork can expire! And when I last did all of this *two fucking years earlier* they didn’t help me, and left me to flounder. I don’t know why they thought I could magically learn how to drive a car without *being in one* but I guess it didn’t matter that much to them until it was an inconvenience and actually affected them.

Anyways, this year I don’t know why I didn’t get it. I can only guess. Was it because I only had one bio prof, and the other two were other branches? (Earlier prof who got in late decided she just… didn’t want to, and made it my problem because she also took almost a month to answer me, requiring me to find a prof that was willing to write on an incredibly short notice.) Was it because it was turned in close to the deadline? If so, why have the deadline there??? It makes no sense. And I hate that it is during winter break, because if something goes wrong you have to work your ass off to get anyone to answer you about stuff. I also couldn’t show that I was upset, or worried, because that might have made my lil sister upsetti about going back for another semester 🙃

Every single. Fucking. Time I have any problems, someone else has it worse so I have to bite my tongue to not make it worse *for them*. Especially the bean. Jesus I hate that I’m here essentially as an emotional support sister, because my parents were tired of her losing her shit at the smallest things.

And yet!!! She has her life together!! Holy fuck! She’s got a car that she likes that she is confortable driving, a boyfriend who is willing to come see her at the drop of a hat, friends who she regularly sees and hangs out with and are willing to take her places, gaming consoles that are just hers, and a place to stay that is away from parents and where she feels she can be herself. She’s got a job and an internship *paid*, like **well paid** coming up that will likely lead her to other jobs, profs that like her and have said they are willing to write her recommendations, and it’s all been handed to her on a fucking platter.

I was not allowed to learn how to drive until now, much less have a car. No significant other to see or hang with. Friends are far away and don’t bother initiating contact (I have a whole rant saved for later about that). I’ve literally never had my own console to play on, they have all been shared and eventually taken away by my siblings, much less the tv and projector she has. I feel trapped here, and watched. I was literally not allowed to have a job and now can’t do anything because the walkable things are for students only and *I don’t have a fucking car*. One of my profs straight up said she doesn’t want to bother writing for me anymore because I’m not worth it. Basically any opportunity in college was squashed thanks to COVID and me not taking a year off when I should have. And now all opportunities are limited to students so I can’t even get any more experience to try and because a student to actually move on in life. And I just??? What the fuck am I supposed to do??? All I can do is cry.

I haven’t told my dad yet, I have no idea how he will take it. He will probably get mad.

My mum actually had the gall to ask me if I actually want to get a masters. I told her yes, but in reality?? How the fuck should I know??? I was never allowed to have a damn opinion about things involving my life, why start now?? She was the one who decided my life path, hell she tried to decide that for all my siblings, and I was the only one who didn’t say no. So, no, I don’t know if I actually want this, I don’t know what I want to do at all, this is her dream. Be been so damn depressed for so long, all I want is to have a stable life.

All I want is somewhere to live with people I choose, who I don’t feel obligated to take care of, a stable job that pays decently so I can occasionally get things I like, and isn’t soul crushing, a car that gets me places safely, and the ability to breathe without being constantly stressed out.

Is that really so much to ask???

I’ll do the friend rant later, but I’m. Too tired. It took over an hour to write this and it’s just ramble at this point.

Fuck

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diariesofapisces · 8 months

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The Most Complex Problems Have Simple Solutions.

If I have learned anything this semester it's this. If you have to take an essay to justify something then it's not the truth. I had been beating around the bush to spare myself from facing the truth. In the long run that was more painful than just accepting things for what they are. Since the day I met him, I have been struggling with what role Spencer should play in my life. I was trying to mold him into a role that I wanted him to play instead of letting it come naturally. Even when I consciously stopped trying to force him into the role of my boyfriend, I still longed for him to fit that role. Even to this day, I want him to want me. I guess that's all I wanted. I didn't want to be more than friends with him, I just wanted him to want me. I guess I didn't care if that was as friends or not. When I think about us I focus more on the potential moments before we start " dating". This idea again reinforces why I am having a sexuality crisis. The hard part is knowing that all I wanted from him was male validation, is it my job to not let that affect our friendship? It's hard to realize that our entire relationship was built on my need for male validation. From the second I met him to why I still wanted to be friends with him after everything happened. My actions, thoughts, and words were directed toward getting male validation. I can try as hard as I want but I can not separate Spencer from my desperate desire for male validation. That is why I don't think I can be friends with him right now. To be honest I should have let him go with the others last semester. The only reason why I didn't and the only reason why I wanted to repair anything with Larisa was that I didn't want to lose that validation. I did everything not to lose him becuase he was the only ounce of male validation that I was receiving. Every time I receive any form of male validation I interpret that as romantic feelings. This is why I think I am not attracted to men. I don't want them I want their validation, and nothing can really be built on that. Nothing real at least. I don't seek validation from women the same way so I can feel romantic feelings for someone with whom I have a deeper connection. So knowing all of this the next task is to figure out what to do. Here is my plan for this current moment. I want to give myself space from Spencer. Out of the best intentions and love for myself, I need to take a step back. Luckily for me, that is almost too easy, becuase I don't have to do anything. I am going to explore the joy of female relationships, platonic or romantic. I am also going to continue going to therapy to figure out how I am going to work through this. Finally, I am going to continue making my well-being my priory, which I think means taking a real break from weed. Even though this all sucks I am so proud of myself for starting to figure this shit out at 19. So many women go through this exact same thing but don't do anything about it. Sometimes I need to reflect and see how awesome I am. I am starting to love myself and not validation.

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goo-stew-4-you · 9 months

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bah humbug.

Merry whatever, happy who cares, and prosperous up yours.

I shouldn't be so cynical, I love Christmas. It was always my job to help decorate, to bake the cookies, to wrap presents. I was the little elf. I forced everyone to be festive. I don't know what shifted. My physical absence in my childhood home has left that hole for my family, but even for myself, the Christmas joy is gone.

My time home for Christmas is the longest I've been here since last January. You can tell that I'm not here much; there is not a shred of my clothing, a tschoskie I used to collect, or even any food I can eat anywhere. Instead of being welcomed home to doting family, warm meals, and a comfortable bed to fall into after a stressful semester, I am a visitor sleeping in my kitchen, my door being a sheet hung on a string. I prepare all of my meals myself, not like my family eats together anyway. I push my family to get out and do things together, and if we do, someone complains, but most of the time we don't. When it's time for me to return to school, I always get guilt-tripped, since my parents "barely saw me" the entire time I was home. Could it hurt for them to make the effort to spend time with me? There's a reason I don't come home often.

And now it's Christmas day. A weird tinge of sadness paints today, and no one wants to talk about it. I know why Christmas makes me sad. It's a reminder that my parents have no idea who I am. I can't entirely blame them for that, but it feels really easy to feel sorry for myself about it. It seems that my parents have only ever had an idea of who Paige is, even when I was younger. They can make out the silhouette, but it's hard for them to fill in the details. I got a bunch of backpacking gear for Christmas, all the stuff that was on my list. I'm grateful for it, it was what I needed, and nothing that I would buy for myself. But the smaller gifts felt impersonal. There was nothing that I received that wasn't on my list that indicated that there was any thought about what I might like. It felt very safe. I honestly would have felt better if they had tried to get me something specific and missed the mark completely. At least then it would have felt like they were trying.

I think it doesn't help that I come from a stiff-upper-lip family. Which is crazy to think about, since I am such an emotional person. It's always been this way, especially with my mom. I think messy emotions scare her. I've been trying to be more open of a person, more real (it's something that I've always struggled with), and I told her that Christmas makes me sad. All she could reply was "me too, isn't that sad?" End of conversation. I wanted to tell her that I felt like I have never really felt comfortable opening up to her or Dad, a weird part of me wanted to pull up all the past receipts, be mad, and yell at her about all the times when I tried to open up and she shut me down, or maybe cry with her about how we miss Grandma. I didn't get any of this, case in point.

A big part of me wants to go back to Worcester. I want to run away from my feelings and problems and spend the next 14 days sitting around and watching tv and sleeping all day. A big part of me wants to stop existing, just for a little bit, just until I can feel normal again.

A big part of me is so resentful of Rae. To be so blatant, she has always gotten exactly what she wanted or needed, and she still complains. I'm resentful because she asked for help, and she received it. She's allowed to throw fits, she's allowed to ask for more, she's allowed to be upset, and most of all, she's allowed to fail. And I don't ask for help, and I don't receive it. This is partly my fault. But, for good reason, for case studies in the past, I have asked for help, and I have not received it. I have been told to stop being dramatic, to suck it up. When I told my parents I was assaulted by a close family friend, that they were a room over when it happened, my mom told me she was worried that I was gonna come home and tell them that I was pregnant, as if my months of lonely sadness were the least of my worries. This just builds my resentment.

But I know that my parents don't know any better. I know that my mom is like me, she doesn't like to talk about her feelings, or maybe she doesn't think she can unless they're resolved and wrapped in a beautiful bow of self-actualization, and a note saying "But don't worry about me, I've got it figured out." What a beautiful Christmas gift that would be, I think that's what I want this year. Vulnerability, and proof that my family actually cares.

#christmas #family #college #bah humbug

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not-scared-of-microwaves · 9 months

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i feel like i’m losing everything when i only just got it back.

i’m a dancer. that has been a huge part of my identity since i was seven years old. i lost that after corona virus hit, and last semester, i finally started dancing again.

it was the most amazing feeling. dance has always been an escape for me, a way of setting aside everything that was fucking up my mental health etc. has always been this source of joy even when everything else sucked.

around thanksgiving, my hips started to pop and crack. i’m hyper mobile—this isn’t unusual for me. it also wasn’t unusual when they started to ache constantly. my joints always hurt.

but then it got worse. by the start of this month, i was limping bc of how much it hurt. a week after that, i’m barely walking at all, because now my knees and back were effected. Monday, my hip dislocated. it didn’t particularly hurt, and it went right back in place on its own (i’ve always been able to pull my hips and shoulders out of place at will) but after that, it started happening out of nowhere.

today i nearly fell down the stairs twice, because my hip fell out of place and my knees buckled. i caught myself on the rail, but it fucking terrified me. i could live with not taking the stairs, but now the same thing happens when i’m just walking.

my nurse practitioner referred me to physical therapy, but they can’t see me until january, and she inly talked about the fact that i was in pain, she didn’t take the joint collapse seriously. maybe she thought i was being dramatic.

i’m making another appointment tomorrow. my therapist has suggested i ask about hyper mobile ehlers danlos syndrome. from what i’ve read…it makes sense.

and i’m fucking angry. maybe if we had found it sooner i would be dancing next year. maybe i wouldn’t be losing the one thing that brings me joy in my fucked up head if my doctors had noticed my joints all bend backwards (it was my dance teacher who pointed it out and gave me exercises to improve my strength), or that i’m in constant pain because of it, but they were too busy telling me to eat more because i’m tiny and underweight. they prescribed me meds to improve my perfectly normal appetite rather than telling me it isn’t normal to black out when i stand up (oh yeah my therapist wants me assessed for PoTS too)

actually i’m mad about the weight thing too. people think that because i’m thin (size 2 atm) it’s ok to comment on my weight. it’s happened twice in the past two days. this is why i hate the holidays. i don’t want to hear about how you wished you looked like me—not even doctors want me to look like me. they’ve asked me if i’m anorexic, put me on meds for my appetite, taken me off effective depression meds because i was losing weight, sent me to get my growth hormones tested. it isn’t fucking fun. i am terrified of seeing myself in the mirror because of it. it makes me so incredibly uncomfortable to hear people comment on it, treat it like a good thing, or tell me “it’ll catch up with you when you’re older.” it ignores all of the struggles i’ve experienced because of it, and is frankly not any of their business.

i just. i only just got dance back, and now i’m losing it.

edit: i think it’s actually that it’s actually subluxation not dislocation. idk exactly? but they certainly aren’t where they’re SUPPOSED to be,,,,,,

#vent #tw ed #tw body image #ehlers danlos syndrome #hypermobile ehlers danlos #pots syndrome #ballet #dance

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pageandpanel · 1 year

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Or, A Retrospective Quest to Find my Favorite Book

(originally posted @ Page and Panel on wordpress)

For anyone who considers themselves a “reader,” there is a single question that we all dread being asked but secretly love answering. What is your favorite book? Do you have a few books on hand to rattle off at a moments notice or do you shrug and say that you don’t have one? Do you tailor your answer to the person asking the question or you have a single, absolute, definitive favorite that you sing the praises of any time you’re given the chance? I, like most people I’m sure, have given different variations of these answers over the years along with dozens of others. Realistically, if you ask me this question my answer will change given the time of day, my mood, and the direction of the winds. And that’s totally fine. But I’m trying to generate content here so I want to interrogate this question a little. Or a lot.

Baby’s First Bookstagram Post ^

I started actively tracking my reading in 2017 on Instagram. Scroll all the way down on my page if you want to see some truly uninspired photography, but also if you want to be shocked at how consistently I posted when I was using that as my primary tracking method. I have a nearly infallible log of everything I’ve read in the last five years. According to Goodreads, I’ve read a total of 688 books between January 1st, 2017 and December 4, 2021. That’s absolutely more books read in the last five years than in the entire rest of my previous 25 years of life. That’s a lot of content to condense into such a small span of time and I already know my brain hasn’t retained all of it.

Running the numbers like this has left me with two questions I want to explore:

How many of these books do I actually remember?

Which of these books is actually my favorite?

And that’s what this series of blog posts is going to explore. I am going to be re-examining books I’ve read and logged, maybe dipping in to re-read or skim a few here and there to see if my opinion has changed. I want to see how actively I have been reading over the years, or if I’ve truly gotten sucked into the social media gamification of reading where I’m just burning through books to hit a goal. And, because I love a list, I’m going to be ranking the books I revisit in a quest to figure out which is my definitive favorite. Or if such a thing even exists.

Where was I in January of 2017? Well, let’s check the caption on my very first official “bookstagram” post:

“2016 was a trash fire in the middle of a shit storm for me. So one of my goals this year is to read more and to read every day. Earlier today, I decided I might as well chronicle this effort on Instagram. So here is the pile of stuff I read yesterday.” (JANUARY 2, 2017)

Yeah so that about sums it up. I was struggling to recover from the gut punch that was the 2020 election (still recovering), dragging myself through my last two semesters of college (remember not having student loan payments?) , and working full time at my local comic store (still the best job I’ve ever had). I think it hit me that over the previous few years I had only really been reading books for class–English Major life–and comics because that was my life at the time. And I really wanted to expand my reading life. Thus, I started logging my books and trying to read a little every day. The first few books I finished that year were actually comics so bare with me.

Book One: Midnighter and Apollo

written by Steve Orlando with art by Fernando Blanco.

Let me start off by explaining that the way I’ve tracked my comics over the years is by bundling single issues (aka the 20 page floppy magazine style books that come out every week) as they are released in trade paperbacks (aka graphic novels that collect 5-7 single issues in a single bound book). i feel like doing it this way gives me a more realistic number at the end of the year, given I read hundreds of 20-ish page comics a year.

Midnighter and Apollo is Steve Orlando’s follow up miniseries to his run on Midnighter (Vol 2 2015-2016). I’ll be the first to admit that I am not a big DC comics reader. I have a few characters that I like to dip in and out of whenever they show up in books, but I grew up on Marvel and never really made the jump to being a fully dedicated DC fan. However, this was an era of DC comics that I actually really loved and Midnighter is one of those characters that will always get me to pick up a book. The incredibly reductive elevator pitch for Midnighter as a character is that he’s Gay Murder Batman. And if you’re not on board with that, then you’re on the wrong blog, my friend.

I absolutely loved Orlando’s run on Midnighter and this miniseries was just as thrilling. The basic plot, without giving too much away and without digging into all of the minutiae of a character written inconsistently for the last 11 years, is a To Hell and Back For Love kinda story. Apollo is abducted and Midnighter has to fight his way through literal Hell (fire and brimstone actual Hell, not metaphorical hell) to get him back.

The book reunited the couple who had been married in 2002 but separated and largely absent from comics for the last few years. Coming off a run of comics that I loved, I think I was a little annoyed by the reunion and then unceremonious shelving of these characters after this series. Particularly because 2015 had been kind of a good year for gay comics. Midnighter was having a good active run, consistently showing up in Grayson (Nightwing’s comic when he was a spy for a minute) as well as having his own title. Over at Marvel, Iceman would come out as gay in November of the same year. Not quite as groundbreaking as back to back bisexual Robin and Superman 2.0 announcements, but we were still begging for crumbs in mainstream comics back then. It was fun to pick up a comic every month and watch a gay man have to leave a Tinder date to go murder a bad guy. But Midnighter and Apollo reset the character to a status quo with most queer characters of the time.

Instead of letting a queer character be single, date around, and live their lives like many straight characters are allowed to do, gay characters in superhero comics tend to be coupled up and desexualized to the point that their can easily be overlooked by people who don’t want to see it. Northstar of Alpha Flight and X-Men was married to his partner, a human dude named Kyle, in Astonishing X-Men #51 (2012) in the first gay marriage in superhero comics. Post-wedding, the two rarely appeared in comics until very recently. Additionally, everyone’s favorite gay couple at Marvel–Wiccan and Hulkling–have been together since their very first appearance in Young Avengers Vol 1 in 2005. After their initial appearance in that series, they wouldn’t be seen again with any regularity until Young Avengers Vol 2 in 2013. Consistently, gay men at the time were coupled up and pushed out of major story lines to cater to an assumed straight male comics readership.

Obviously I’m never going to be mad about happy gay couples living their happy gay lives, but this desexualization of queer men to make them more palatable felt like a step back for the direction Midnighter had been going in his own series. I also think that it’s important to note that Steve Orlando is a queer man who has written almost exclusively queer comics. I also don’t know how much publisher influence there was over the decision to put the couple back together verses how much Orlando actually wanted this couple to be together. Regardless of my skepticism and whatever decisions were made by who, I did end up loving this six issue run of comics. I was already pretty committed to reading everything Orlando wrote, but this cemented it for me. This isn’t the last of his comics that will pop up throughout this project. I am also always on the look out for new Midnighter content. In 2021 he found his way back to the spotlight in at least two comics: DC Pride #1 and Midnighter Annual #1.

When I read this originally, I gave it 4 stars on Goodreads and I think that’s still a pretty solid rating. I know it’s going to rank somewhere in the middle of my extremely top heavy list. Overall, I highly recommend this series to anyone interested in getting into queer DC comics, but I would also advise starting with with the original series, Midnighter (2015) as well as Grayson (2015) by Tom King, Tim Seeley, and Mikel Janín. I definitely want to carve out some time to revisit both of these series in the very near future to see how they hold up and where they will rank on the list.

BOOK TWO: SHADE THE CHANGING GIRL

written by Cecil Castellucci with art by Marley Zarcone

Unlike Midnighter and Apollo, this is an ongoing series rather than just a mini-series. As I said earlier, for the purpose of logging comics, I bundle them in as they’re collected in trades. So, Midnighter and Apollo is issues #1-6 for the complete story. Most comics on this list are going to be broken up into similarly sized chunks, but will have multiple volumes. So, Shade the Changing Girl has a Volume 1 (collecting issues 1-6) and a Volume 2 (issues 7-13). For the purposes of this project though, I’m counting all 13 issues as a single story, and will treat most runs of comics the same way. Every new #1 is a new story, etc etc. Hopefully that’s enough explaining my own process for this post.

Cecil Castellucci draws just enough from the original series to capture the utter madness of Milligan and Bachalo’s Shade, but create such a fascinating character in Loma that you don’t actually need to read the original series to get deeply invested in this new one (which is probably for the best because I doubt Shade the Changing Man holds up). And Marley Zarcone’s art is beautiful and creates the perfect atmosphere to tell this weird ass story. I can’t tell you how many times I sat down with these issues and ended up just staring at the art. And in Volume 2, there’s a breathtakingly beautiful issue drawn by Margurite Sauvage, one of my all time favorite artists.

I honestly don’t think Loma has popped up in any comics since the sequel to this series, Shade the Changing Woman (we’ll get to it), which is a shame because I would buy literally anything else with her on the cover. I also really miss this era of comics. Vertigo has made every attempts at a comeback since the glory days in the 90s. Young Animals, I think, is the closest they ever got. After a first phase of comics (they’ll all be on the list at some point) that all lasted about 12 issues, a cross over event, and then a second phase of 5-6 issue mini series, the entire Young Animal imprint was scrapped and DC attempted to revitalize the Vertigo brand. None of those books ever took off (and none of them were very good) and DC has since scrapped the entire like altogether in favor of their “Black Label” imprint. In my opinion, Young Animal is the closest DC ever got to the classic Vertigo books I was obsessed with in high school. But money talks and sales for his books never really took off. I think we sold 5 or 6 issues of Shade ever week, despite my best effort to hand sell it. So pour one out for Gerard Way and his weird comics.

Unsurprising, I gave both installments of this series 5 stars and I stand by that. I can’t recommend this highly enough and it’s definitely getting ranked above Midnighter and Apollo. Seriously, I’m sure you can find the back issues of this so cheap in any comic store dollar bin or on Comixology for a discount. Even if you’re not a big comic reader, this one and it’s sequel are perfectly self-contained stories and absolutely worth checking out.

BOOK TWO: ARISTOTLE AND DANTE DISCOVER THE SECRETS OF THE UNIVERSE

by Benjamin Alire Sáenz

Finally! An actual novel. I promise the comics thin themselves out in 2018 when I stop working at the comic store.

What is there to be said about Aristotle and Dante that hasn’t already been covered by anyone who has ever read a book? Seriously, you’ve all read this right? I don’t need to talk you into it. Somehow I had made it to 25 without reading this absolute classic of a Queer YA novel. I’ve actually been meaning to reread this one all year and haven’t quite gotten around to it. Maybe it will be the next book I pick up and we can end this year on a high note.

Aristotle and Dante is the story of two very different boys from two very different backgrounds. And against the odds, they form an incredible bond, becoming close friends and eventually something more. One of my favorite things about this book, and one of the things I think about constantly when I read other queer stories, is the relationship between Aristotle and his parents. Aristotle is going through a turbulent time of self-discovery, trying to figure out the kind of person he’s going to be. And there is never a point in the story in which his parents, specifically his father, abandon him in that journey. It’s exhausting to see queer teens in stories abandoned, neglected, or abused by their families. Seeing that love on the page remain strong and unquestioning, especially as they come to a collective realization about the person Aristotle is growing up to be, is deeply affirming and refreshing.

I didn’t grow up with ready access to a lot of queer media, especially media aimed at younger audiences. I learned about gay things like every other middle school kid in the early 2000s: on Degrassi: The Next Generation and roleplaying X-Men characters on Xanga. And as an adult, I don’t read a ton of YA but I will almost always pick up anything queer. I love that these books are available to kids as they learn about themselves. And more than anything I love the care with which Sáenz handles these characters and their lives. You can feel his affection for Ari and Dante in every word. This is a book that is swelling with emotion invites readers to really feel their own vulnerability along with these characters.

I have this as a 5 star read. Fantastic call on my part. Of the books entering the list today, this is the one that I feel the most emotional attachment towards so I’m slipping it in at the number one spot. I wish I had more to say about this book except that I absolutely adore it and I can’t wait to read the sequel (waiting for the paperback release so my books match is so stressful). If this has been sitting on your TBR for a while bump it up to the top. For now, I’ll leave you with a quote I took a picture of for instagram that I do think about pretty regularly. It feels like a fresh gut punch every time I read it.

WRAPPING IT UP

Okay so the fun part of all of this is coming out with a ranked list of books I’ve read. Okay maybe that’s just fun for me. I’m going to keep a running google doc list and insert the books I talk about wherever I think they should go on the list. This one is going to be pretty easy, since the only books entering the list are the three I talked about in this post.

There’s not a ton to wrap up on the first installment in this project. Nothing super controversial here. Just one popular YA book that everyone has read and two comic series no one has read. I’m excited to see how this pans out and where I land on books I haven’t thought about in a while. Next time I have two more comic series and one of my all time favorite novels to add to the list. The next few posts are going to be pretty comics heavy, so hopefully no one is totally put off by that content. I promise, they fade out by the end of the year.

#midnighter and apollo #shade the changing girl #aristotele and dante #bookblr #books and reading #too all the books

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