#imagine those depressing pictures of an empty room with a mattress and tv on the floor | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

inimoo · 6 months

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𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐈𝐧 .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚

"What... what are you doing here, Ada?” He finally relented, forcing his blue eyes to meet hers in a last-ditch effort to maintain some sort of composure. They both know what he’s really asking is ‘How long are you staying this time?’ OR: Ada breaks into Leon's apartment (again) to make fun of him, among other things. based off of this edit

Leon did not like his apartment.

It was relatively nice, if he cared to do much with it. It was really only his mattress, a couch, a TV, the essentials of a kitchen, and a rug he bought while drunk wandering the streets probably looking more like an alcoholic druggie than a respected agent working directly under the president. Most of the time that was what he feels like anyway. And no, he didn’t have a bed frame. He was almost painfully aware of how depressing his home looks like. His mother would’ve reprimanded him for not trying to spruce the place up because ‘your home is what your mind looks like.’ He had grown up in a house full of flowers and family pictures before it was all torn away from him in one night. But whatever, whatever.

lHe had gotten home, opened the door, and looked around at the disappointingly empty room as if he had half expected someone to greet him with a smile. A friend, a girlfriend, a child.

Leon was acutely conscious of how stupid he was sometimes. It was a bit insane that even after all these years he still had dreams of having a family.

He didn't even think he'd be a good dad anyway. He was far too fucked up to be in charge of something as precious as a child.

Sometimes it was just nice to imagine, though. To have someone to protect and give all his love to.

He had mostly expected those dreams to be crushed. He probably would've been thankful if he didn’t have that hope - that reminder of a different time. He had wanted the American Dream. It was a little funny, in a morbid way, how someone who worked directly under the President never got that luxury. His dream was failed. And now, he had an expensive, unfurnished, depressing apartment.

Leon had kicked off his shoes and threw his clothes onto the couch, already half naked by the time he was in the washroom. ‘I’ll pick it up later.’ He told himself, knowing there was a 50/50 chance he’d actually go through with that, depending on his mood. He was still feeling a little enthusiastic despite the earlier blow. He even hummed a little tune in the shower as he scrubbed the grime and blood from his skin, an 80s song his dad had the habit of putting on the radio when he was a little kid. Soapy bubbles covered his skin, scrubbing away with his washcloth. Shampoo in his hair, water beating down at his skin with an almost concerning amount of pressure, the song left in a hum under his breath, the lyrics failing him.

He was halfway done with his conditioner when he heard the knock. He paused, his head tilting at the sound. The knock happened again, this time three times. He stood there for a moment, his hands mindlessly massaging the conditioner out of his blonde locks. His blue gaze returned to the shower wall, decidedly ignoring what he desperately hoped was just his imagination. He didn’t hear the knock a fourth time.

Still humming as he stepped out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist, toothbrush in his mouth, hair wet, he left the bathroom, trying to find a shirt to throw on. He absent-mindedly flicked on the radio on his kitchen counter, a shot of familiarity shooting to his head as Two Princes started to play. His humming picked up, head nodding up and down as he opened the door until he was half dancing, half walking into his room looking more like a drunk elephant than a federal agent.

He stopped in his tracks, eyes widening slightly.

Leon stood there, toothbrush hanging loosely in his mouth with nothing but a towel on, blonde hair soaking wet as he met eyes with his favourite nightmare, Ada Wong.

She looked much more put together - something that seemed to be a tradition of theirs. The most fucked up she’d looked was 13 years ago when he was 21, drunk on adoration, almost star-struck. But meeting after meeting Ada had always looked perfect. She was untouchable.

In most ways.

Ada was sitting on his bed cross-legged, black eyes darting up from a random book she had picked up from Leon’s bedside table. Through his shocked daze he found it in himself to feel a flash of thankfulness that she had not picked up his mostly unused journal that really only had encounters of Ada and less than appropriate fantasies written down drunkenly and shamefully ignored the following morning from across the years.

The corner of her glossy lips curled as she took in his state, from his dripping blonde hair to the towel wrapped around his hips. “That’s why you didn’t open the door.” Her voice was a low hum, the hint of amusement tracing her words.

Leon, a federal agent who had faced ungodly monsters and psychotic scientists, was lost for words. Ada fucking Wong was lying in his bed.

Holy shit?

She got up and it was almost domestic the way she walked over to him with a tilted head, now standing in front of him. He'd always been taller than her, but somehow he never failed to feel like a teenager when she was this close to him. Close enough to see the shine of her lips, the subtle colour that streaks through her otherwise impossibly black, deep eyes.

He'd spent a lot of time thinking about those certain parts of her. The way her lips felt when she kissed him 13 years ago, the way her eyes creased in pity when she held a gun to his chest.

After a moment of simply staring at her, Ada reached out and with an embarrassingly electrifying touch, tapped on his jaw, closing it for him. She smiled slightly at him again as he blushed a hundred fucking shades of red. He did not know how to handle himself when she was this close to him, her touch so… gentle.

Leon cleared his throat, shaking through the brain fog this entire situation had brought upon him. He stumbled back, his hand on his towel tighter. He has to run back to the bathroom to spit out his toothpaste and brush so that he could begin to even attempt to unpack what the fuck was happening right now.

When he got back to the room, Ada has two shirts in her hands, eyes glancing between the two of them like she was weighing her options of what she wanted to see Leon in. He didn’t even have it in himself to be mad, watching her with his intense blue gaze as music drifts through his apartment. She looked up at him, her eyes being illuminated by the soft light leaking in from the kitchen, then handed him one of his old RPD shirts (he doesn't know why he keeps it, it has to be some sort of naive tie to his old life that stops him from trashing it).

Soundlessly and without any pushback at all, he slided the shirt on, the only other thing on him is his boxers.

They just stared at each other in the low light, waiting for someone to break the silence that had enveloped them - silence filled with more than a decade of tension and shared secrets. Of guilty pleasures and last minute rescues.

His eyes flickered away first because of course they do. Ada tilted her head at him, then said. “That shirt looks cute on you.” A pause.

Leon looked back up at her, his fist clenching and unclenching. “... Yeah?” Breathless. He was breathless.

Ada nodded, a ghost of a simper gracing her features. “Yeah.” she waited for him to ask the question hanging in the air, almost slipping off his tongue.

“What… What are you doing here, Ada?” He finally relented, forcing his blue eyes to meet hers in a last-ditch effort to maintain some sort of composure. They both know what he’s really asking is ‘How long are you staying this time?’

She shrugged, undoing one of the buttons of her red dress shirt casually. His breath hitched. “I wanted to see you.” Ada offered. “Don’t you want to see me, Leon?”

The way his heart leaped at the way his name sounded in her voice had got to be some sort of act of betrayal. He wasn’t supposed to still be so…

So…

“Are you going to answer me, Leon?”

He blinked hard, clearing his throat. “I don’t think that this is - “

“Appropriate?” She guessed, suddenly standing a lot closer forcing her very presence into his face. Ada Wong was in his room, in his face, wanting to see him. She smiled knowingly at the way his lips pressed together, eyes widening ever so slightly. “I think you do want to see me, Leon.” She said in a soft voice. “I think that you’ve thought about this for a while. This situation happening again.” Ada shrugged, brushing past him and walking over to his kitchen. He noticed that her heels were by the front door and he wondered how he hadn’t noticed it before.

She turned the kettle on, opening the cupboard where he kept his cups like she had been here a million times before. She turned to look at him from over her shoulder, her black hair framing her features. “You want some tea?”

Leon took a while to answer, but he eventually nodded shortly, hesitation building to the point where he probably wouldn’t be able to move if she wasn’t giving him something to do. An overpowering force, a welcoming storm beating against his consciousness. Ada hummed in acknowledgement, grabbing another and fixing the both of them a hot, steaming mug of tea. She passed Leon his mug, his taste buds alight at the familiar taste of… the exact way he made his.

Eyes fluttering open, he took a moment before he says something again. “How… How do you know how I make my tea?” The same three minutes steeped, the same two spoons of sugar, the same dash of honey.

Ada looked at him with an unreadable expression from above the rim of her own mug. “Just noticed.”

“You’ve never been here.” He reminded her, although that belief was quickly falling out.

She hummed slightly, “Not really.”

Leon let out a short, dry laugh. “What, you’ve been stalking me?”

She made an indifferent gesture seemingly only with her brows. “If that’s what you want to call it.”

He couldn’t even find it in himself to be anything but mildly taken aback. If anyone knew how he made his tea and how to get into his government protected apartment but not give him the time of day on any chance encounter, it would be Ada. He only chuckled dryly into his drink.

“Is it funny?”

“That you admitted to stalking me?” Now it was Leon’s eyebrow that was arched. “A little.”

She smirked a little bit, hot tea running down her throat. She put down her now empty mug, flopping onto the couch in a very un-Ada like way. She looked around then, an odd expression on her face as her gaze sweeps through the practically empty, insultingly undecorated apartment. “This place looks terrible.” She said in a very brutal cut to his ego.

Leon sighed, running his hand through his hair. “Did you come here to insult my home decorating skills?”

“I came here to see you, remember?” Ada reminded him with what he almost thought was a roll of her eyes. “It’s an observation.” “Thanks Ada. I really, really am in the mood for your insightful observation.” They made eye contact as the sarcasm dripped down onto the expensive leather of his couch. The faintest smile pulls at her glossy, perfectly pink lips.

Leon’s brows pulled upwards, a teasing smile gracing his hardened features. “You think I’m funny.” he said deftly, leaning forward slightly.

Ada didn't move, but he knew it was not an invitation to get closer, that was just how she was. “If you weren’t funny do you think I’d be here?” She asked then, her head tilting ever so slightly in a way that makes his palms just a little sweatier. “You think of me as your plaything?” Leon finished for her, cutting her off before she could say much else.

“Maybe.” Ada said, but some humiliating part of him doesn’t find it too hurtful. He is far too gone to even begin to unpack that though. “Still mine though.”

He raised a thick, dark brow at her, leaning back until his back was resting on the edge of the couch. “Yeah? Is that why you’ve been playing with my heart for 13 years and stalking me to the point where you know how I make my tea?”

Ada didn't say much, just watched him speak. “You like using me Ada.” Leon continued, playing with the fabric of his shirt, his abs tensed under them. It was a pretty old short to be honest, something that Ada didn’t fail to miss when she gave it to him. “I think you just like catching me off guard.”

She shrugged slightly, her expression indifferent at the accusations thrown at her, almost like she was accepting them. “Does that matter right now?”

“Yes.” he snapped gruffly though they both knew that he was lying. He would never stop dancing around her in the battlefield. He was a goner that first night he met her in Raccoon City, “What the hell is this, Ada? I find you in my room and all of a sudden you wanna play house? Make me tea? Pick out my clothes?”

She bit the inside of her cheek. “Play house? I’m trying to be a friend.”

A thick, uncomfortable silence narrows the world into the radio, the warm yellow light from the oven fan, and the two people who have nothing but cold fondness for each other sitting on the couch.

“... Do you seriously think that we’re just friends, Ada?” His voice was softer now, a hint of desperation somewhere in his chest made her heart strain.

She looked away, not entirely if he wanted her to lie this time. He, for once, was the only to render her speechless. When she glanced up he looked like he too couldn't believe it.

“You tell me Leon.” Her voice was even as ever. He waited for her next sentence with bated breath even through his anger. “What do you think we are?”

He stared at her and even though it made him sick to his stomach to even think of, he didn't know the answer to that. He tended to avoid it - the feelings that accompanied his interactions with her, looming over his shoulder. Her eyes trailed lower and he knows that she knows what he’s thinking. A mutual understanding. “I don’t know either.” She responded to his unsaid answer in a surprising act of vulnerability. Her fingers tensed around the mug she was holding, biting her lip slightly. “I know a lot of things. But you…” She met eyes with him again and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He wondered if he’d ever learn to stop that little habit of his. He wondered if he wanted to. “You're difficult.”

“... That a compliment?”

Ada laughed slightly, shaking her head. “Yeah, sure.” She leaned in slightly closer. “I’m not usually met with someone with your tendancy to play hero every other day.”

“Is that all?” He had a teasing smirk at the corner of his lips - he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help himself around her. Leon wasn’t strong enough to save himself from falling and falling and falling further and further into her storm, sailing head on, relishing in the chaos she shook his heart and consciousness with.

She rolled her eyes but she smiled and he felt his chest clench with pride at that victory. He made Ada smile. “Don’t push it, rookie.”

He paused, then chuckled, his head dropping slightly, blonde hair falling in front of his blue eyes. He looked up, still with the imprint of laughter spread across his features. “I always push it,” he reminded her, because he did, and she loved a part of it. The thrill, the hesitation, the fall. “That’s why you’re here right?”

“You think I’d come this far just to have sex?”

“You don’t give me much else to work with.” He said, looking off. When he looked back there’s a different glint in her eyes - it’s barely anything, really, and if he hadn’t been forced to look so deep into her micro expressions to notice anything, he wouldn't have understood it. “Besides,” he continued. “Not like you don’t have a good time when it is just that.”

“I could get sex from anyone.”

“But you choose me.”

More silence. Ada looked like she’s slightly impressed with the fact that he’s actually showing her some backbone.

“Why do you think I do that?” She asked him, the arch of her brow challenging him a little. She liked this part of these nights.

Leon’s lips pressed together, his gaze heart-achingly intense. If she were any other girl she might’ve been overwhelmed with the emotions behind his cobalt eyes. “Because…” He started, voice low. “Because it’s just how we are.” It wouldn’t be right if it was anyone else.

Her facial expression didn’t change. They never really talked about the secrets and desire behind their stolen moments, letting the warmth that emitted from their bodies, the uncharacteristically untense shoulders, and the silent glances from across a battlefield speak for them.

“It’s all we can be.” Ada said in a tone that didn’t invite any backtalk from him, not that he had anything to say. He had long since accepted this. Accepted all he could have of her. It had been so long that he has grown grateful for the mere idea of her presence even though it kills him inside every time that momentary hitch in his breath is extinguished and she’s gone once again, rationality cutting through passion to walk away from every ‘what if’ that existed in between them.

He was so fucked.

Leon leaned back, eyes trailing upwards at the ceiling. The laugh that followed suit was soft, he covered his eyes, wiping downward as he hid his face behind his hands, shoulders shaking slightly. When he opened his eyes the hush that had settled in between them had washed away the dryness in his tone. “Yeah.”

And with that declaration the understanding that they were both aware of is set into stone once again and her eyebrows raise in a way that makes him want to go insane, granting permission for them to pretend once again. Just pretend. Make the pain go away - just for a night. Leon leaned closer, hands sliding over her stomach and pulling her close into him, eyes gazing into hers as if she’d disappear if he so much as blinked. Ada smiled into his lips, lust and passion and the comfort of this act spreading into their bones as he kissed her hungrily. She was slower, eyes fluttering open to relish in the way his lashes looked and cheeks flushed when the invisible wall she had built between them broke down for that night. His hands travelled down to her hips, the fabric of her dress shirt in between his hands.

“Please,” he whispered hoarsely in a voice so desperate it made her almost giggle. “Take it off.”

“Just because you were so polite.” She whispered back, but she still undid the buttons slowly. Ada, despite what Leon might think, had a thing for watching him. Watching the way his jaw tensed and his muscles flexed and his eyes glinted, gaze fixated upon her like a man and the goddess she worshipped.

She’d be lying to herself if she said it didn’t turn her on a little. He helped her take it off, sliding the sleeves down her pale, toned arms as the tension between them continued to build. Leon’s eyes remained transfixed on hers, taking her in. Maybe the fact that Leon was always a gentleman made her defenses go down - because only he knew her like this. And only he would stare into her eyes like they were worth pure gold instead of her naked body. She leaned in, kissing his forehead affectionately before pulling away to take his shirt off with a slight laugh when it caught on his jaw.

Ada had never felt so close to love when he held her, kissing down her jaw, through the valley of her chest, and tugged down on her jeans. He groaned softly when she was fully exposed to him, “So perfect.” He was talking more to himself, eyes glazed over. Leon’s hands gripped onto her thighs lightly, thumbs rubbing circles into the skin as he stayed there in a trance, staring at her hot core. There was one part other that she had no control over - he did that.

Before he could go further, Ada’s finger tapped on his cheek with an expectant look and he nodded with an almost sheepish expression, looking up through his messy bangs with his stupidly striking eyes. He took his boxers off, discarding them in the same pile of clothes that her own had become. Leon rose again, pressing a kiss against her neck, slow and sultry, in a way that made her smile because she knew that if 21-year-old Leon had known this was what would become of them he would lose his mind.

“Fuck.” his voice was low and raspy, sending a spark to her core. She didn’t let it show, she never did. More kisses along her shoulder and down her arms ‘till his cheek was on her hand and he was nuzzling into it like a puppy. She stroked the rough, scarred skin with a certain type of softness that none of them had experienced in a while. She felt the tension in his spine melt, eyes fluttering open to meet hers as she quickly rearranged her face into one of a distant fondness.

She couldn’t get too close to him - but this felt good .

Leon’s gaze flickered down to her chest and she could see him swallow in a way that reminded her that he was still the boy he met in the darkness of a dying city unwilling to let her go. Her heart skipped, fell, and burst at the sudden sharp sting of affection that hit her and she wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek and leading his hesitant hands to her chest with a look in her eye.

“I haven’t got all night, Leon, I’m a busy woman.”

He laughed quietly, pressing a soothing kiss to her collarbone that turned into a suck that turned into a bite that turned into a mark she gets to look at in the morning and ignore the feeling of lust that shoots in between her thighs in the mirror. “Yes you do. I’m keeping you here all night.” His voice was teasing but the growl that seeped in when his eyes fixated on the flesh he was currently caressing makes it harder and harder for Ada to stay focused. Sex makes people stupid. Incredibly hot and cute and kind men who delusionally accept stolen nights and glances instead of finding something real and tangible and permanent in some other probably morally righteous women makes her stupid and dumb and so, so needy.

He kissed her in a hard, desperate way, tongue sliding into hers. He’d gotten good at kissing. She wondered if that’s her doing. Returning the kiss makes his heart clench and his hands slid down to the flesh of her thighs, kneeding them as she straddles him.

They shouldn’t be doing this, the two of them knew that. They both knew that they were holding onto something that would never be given the chance to flourish. Ada especially wished she was strong enough to leave him alone, to never see him again, to be content with watching himm from a distance as she had always done.

Like a dog tethered to a post, Leon would return to her with that earnest look in his cobalt eyes, brows pinched together as he gazed at her like she was an angel sent to test him. He would fail and she would fall and they would be tangled together on the couch or the bedspread of his empty apartment, but for that moment, with her wrapped in his arms tracing patterns on his scars, he would feel alive, alive, alive.

They shouldn’t be doing this.

"You like this song?" He asked in a hum, smoothing stray locks out of her face, chuckling softly at her spent expression.

"I didn't know you liked the Beatles." She responded, nuzzling closer and he laughed, pressing a kiss to the crown of her ebony hair. If they ever had a kid he'd bet they'd get her hair.

"Have a collection somewhere in here." Leon mumbled quietly, continuing to kiss down her neck. His heart swelled when she didn't move away.

"You should really organize this place." Ada said in a voice so soft he had to strain his ears to hear it.

"You should really get your fancy shampoo out of my washroom."

"You should be thanking me that I let you near my shampoo." She laughed, she actually laughed, and the sound was so fucking incredibly that he knew he'd do everything all over again, every betrayal and heartache, he'd go through it forever if he got to hear it like this. "You buy yours from the grocery store."

"I call that being financially responsible."

"I call it being stingy." She bit back. He wanted to kiss her, so he does, and she smiled against his lips and he smiled back before he's kissing her all over the face again and again and again and-

He shouldn’t love her so much.

She stopped him with her hand with a cheeky look in her black eyes - he could see his blushing cheeks in the reflection - and she met his lips softly.

"I love you."

He didn't whisper it like he wanted, it stayed floating in his head, never fully admitted, but she knew. They knew.

#HI GUYS GUESSWHO WROTE A FIC FOR THE FIRST TIME IN ACTURAL MONTHS #this was based off of an edit #i saw on tiktok #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil fanfics #resident evil fanfic #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #ada wong #aeon #ada wong x leon kennedy #leon kennedy x ada wong #leon x ada #ada x leon #aeon fanfic

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lilac-milk-moon · 5 years

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Being Broke Taught Me About Simple Living

During the years I attended college, and shortly afterwards when I was about 21-22 years old, I was flat out broke. I was living in the middle of a big city all by myself, and paying my bills on a server’s salary. I had zero savings, and was living paycheck to paycheck just to get by, simple living was a necessity.

To paint you a better picture of my situation, allow me to elaborate.

My apartment

My apartment was old, tiny, lacked air conditioning, and had bars on the windows. It sat right on the edge of downtown–I could either walk right out of my doorway toward one of the best hospitals in the area or left into a lions den of run down and disheveled housing, loiterers clearly up to no good, and bars on the window of every business along the sidewalk.

The drain in the bathtub often clogged, and I usually ended up taking some sort of disgusting, lukewarm bath/shower hybrid every time I wanted to get clean. The sink in the kitchen had to be fixed multiple times before it functioned properly. I had no microwave–just a very small and very old oven.

Speaking of things I didn’t have — furniture. I had no furniture, save for a cheap Ikea armchair, an old wooden table with two chairs that came free from my Grandma’s house, and a mattress that I had classily placed directly on the floor of my bedroom.

My extremely small TV and a DVD player had been gifted to me by a previous boyfriend. They were propped up on top of a crate which also sat on the floor. I had one or two plastic shelving/drawer units scattered around to hold random things like shampoo bottles and bars of soap. My apartment was depressing, at best. I would venture to guess that most would have considered it unlivable upon seeing it in all of its glory. Back in those days, I was taking simple living to an extreme — and not because I wanted to. I was just completely and helplessly flat out broke.

10 simple living lessons I learned from being flat out broke

1. I can live without things, but not without people.

Surprisingly enough, my biggest problem was not that I had practically no money or objects to my name, but that I had virtually no friends. Meeting people in a big city is hard, especially if you don’t have the money to hang out in bars, museums, or wherever else you go to meet people.

Obviously, there are free ways to meet people — but I didn’t know what they were. I had spent most of my teenage and college years playing team sports, where friendship came with being teammates, and I had no idea how to go about meeting new people.

As a result, I ended up spending most of my time alone, which I do enjoy and certainly miss now that I have had children and sacrificed any sort of alone time I ever had. (Seriously, why do your kids want to watch you pee?) Despite that, being alone pretty much all the time can get a bit overwhelming after a while, even for the introvert’iest of introverts.

Eventually, I began to long for more people in my life, but I can’t remember ever wishing I had more things to fill my empty apartment. More relationships would have been enough for me.

2. Living above your means is even more stressful than it is stupid.

The reason I ultimately decided to move back home from my apartment in the city was a mix of loneliness and fatigue. I was tired of worrying if I was going to be able to pay my rent every month. I was tired of not being able to take a single day off of work, even if I was sick because missing one day of tips would send me straight into the red for the month’s bills.

Working just to live is exhausting. At some point it just became silly. I couldn’t even afford to go out and do any of the stupid fun things that the kids my age were doing. Why was I punishing myself and my finances when I had a warm, comfortable and (most importantly) free home to go live in? My parents would have loved for me to move back home, so what was I waiting for?

After all, what is the point of living in a big bustling city if you can’t afford any of the bustles?

3. Simple things are fun too.

I had three main sources of entertainment when I lived in the city: people watching, going to the library, and feeding the ducks. I was basically an 80-year-old man trapped in a 22-year-old girl’s body.

People watching

I often found myself jogging or walking around the city, both for exercise and just to see what was going on that day. My favorite area to go for prime people watching was High Street, downtown’s main drag. Walking those sidewalks, I frequently wondered if it had been named for the state of the people who traveled it on foot.

City people are a different breed of people. They are exciting, outgoing, flamboyant, and just plain entertaining. So much different than the buttoned-up small town folk that I grew up around. I found endless entertainment just walking down the sidewalks and observing. Never paid a dime for it either.

Going to the library

I walked to the library almost every day. There were times I was waiting at the door for it to open in the morning.

The thing I miss the most about living in the city is the library system, hands down. I could go there and get anything I wanted. They had DVDs, CDs, audiobooks, paperbacks — every type of media you could imagine. (Maybe even a copy of Thrawn?) I didn’t even have to go to the desk to check anything out because they had a self-scanner. My anti-social soul smiled wide when I saw that for the first time.

The library always gave me this feeling of being so small. The world is so full of knowledge. I would just stand in front of the books and marvel at everything that I didn’t yet know. I don’t know what it was, but the library just made me feel…insignificant. In a good way.

Plus, reading a book is a good way to forget that you have no money and no idea how you are going to pay your rent that month.

Feeding the ducks

Within walking distance from my apartment was a park that had a small pond. There was always a healthy gathering of ducks on the pond.

When I was feeling bored, I would go to the store and spend a buck on a bag of cheap white bread and go stuff those ducks full of enough refined carbs to last them the week. The ducks didn’t care that the bread was purchased off the store “quick sale” rack and was probably 5 days past its expiration date. Inedible was their favorite flavor.

The bread eating party always ended fairly quickly though, because the geese would eventually see me and waddle their mean asses over. I don’t F with geese. Those little bastards will bite your toes clean off. (Better get some affordable health Insurance.)

4. Your own two feet are your best (read: free) transportation.

I walked a lot when I lived in the city, both to get places and for exercise. Besides the obvious savings in gas, you save yourself parking fees and a lot of frustration by just walking out your front door and going. It’s not easy to navigate a city in a car, as you have to worry about traffic, pedestrians, no parking zones, parallel parking, etc. It’s so much easier just to walk.

The only problem I ever had with walking was the endless string of panhandlers, begging for money, always with the same story of their car running out of gas. I felt bad for them, of course, but I was one misplaced wallet away from being right there next to them. They were barking up the wrong tree with that one.

Plus, if you’re in your car you may miss seeing the guy walking down the sidewalk in just his underpants. That would be unfortunate.

5. There’s nothing wrong with public transportation.

The bus gets a bad rap. Sure, it’s not the cleanest place — I wouldn’t go rubbing any open wounds on the seats or anything. I also ran into a few…odd…people on there at times. However, from my experience, it’s a cheap way to get around and no one really bothers you. Everyone is just trying to get where they need to go. In the city, the bus runs very frequently. When you need to go somewhere that isn’t walkable, or it’s raining, or cold, just hop on the next bus. I also recommend the bus for one of the top choices for free entertainment–people watching.

6. Budgeting is the broke person’s best friend.

Budgeting: not just for people with money.

It was also something I should have been doing, but wasn’t. I would have been so much better off if I had just sat down, taking an average of what I was making most months (tips were either feast or famine) and drew up a bare-bones budget for my spending.

Looking back at it now, I was probably spending way too much in the grocery store and could have walked more than I already did to save on gas. At one point, I even signed up for a gym and personal training package that I couldn’t afford because I thought that the sacrifice I was making to pay for it was going to motivate me to get in better shape.

Talk about young and dumb, right? I’ll be the first to admit that I was broke mostly because of my own poor decision making. If I had budgeted, I may have found that I had more money than I thought. I just wasn’t using it correctly.

7. Work ethic pays the bills.

Literally, my work ethic paid my bills. We know financial intelligence sure wasn’t. If I missed work even one time, I was screwed. I had to hustle for every dollar I made. I never, ever called off work.

In fact, when I was laying in my apartment dying a slow death by mono mixed with tonsillitis, my parents had to make the 3-hour drive to drag me out of my apartment and to the hospital because I didn’t want to have to miss work. You can’t tell me I wasn’t hardcore.

8. Don’t compare yourself to others.

As I mentioned, I didn’t need much in my apartment to get by. I didn’t feel deprived, but I did feel embarrassed about the lack of what most people would consider basic necessities. When people came over to my apartment, there was always the initial look of shock on their face when they realized that my living room actually echoed with emptiness.

One day a friend of mine came over to help me with some things. Upon opening my door and welcoming him into my place, he actually stood in the doorway and said: “This is where you live?” That person was exactly the same age as me, lived in a really nice apartment on a better side of town, spent whatever he wanted at the bar, and drove a sick car. And that’s what I focused on at that moment. That was a mistake.

What I should have been focused on is this: that person had a better job than I did. He had a roommate paying half of the rent at his fancy apartment, and he had parents that owned some sort of concrete company or something in India. (See Social Bubbles)

Clearly, my friend and I were not in the same financial position, and never had been. Even still, I remember how much it was a real blow to my confidence. It didn’t occur to me until much later that comparing yourself to other people is a flawed way of thinking. Especially if the other people are in a much different financial position than you are, despite being in the same life stage. We all come from different backgrounds, and it’s okay not to have as much as your neighbor.

Besides, your neighbor’s sick car probably gets poor gas mileage. So there.

9. Don’t make financial commitments that you can’t keep

This is one that I managed to avoid for the most part when I was broke. I did have a credit card, but I only got it for emergencies and I never had to use it. Growing up, my dad had drilled into my head the crazy concept of not spending money that I didn’t have. It was good advice that stuck. (Don’t tell him I said that though.)

However, when I moved home, I had to break my lease. This showed up as a strike against my rental history. Luckily, despite renting one more time several months later, breaking that lease never caused a problem for me. If it had, I don’t know what I would have done.

10. Get creative with your finances.

Hindsight is 20/20, but looking back I can see that I had a lot of missed opportunities to better manage my money. I also could have made some extra money on the side. For example, I had a reasonably reliable and FREE internet connection through my apartment building. I had time, energy and more than enough space. I could have started reselling on eBay, like I’m doing now, in order to make extra cash. That extra couple hundred bucks a month that I could have been making would have made a huge difference in my quality of life.

Maybe I could have bought a microwave. Or a lamp. Hell, I would have even just settled for a few cinder blocks and a slab of sturdy wood to prop my mattress up off the floor. I guess I blame my youth and the fact that I was caught up in stupid things like finding someone to go to the bar with for my failure to use creative ways to supplement my income. As someone who was just barely an adult, I didn’t have the maturity level and foresight to see the opportunities that I was missing. Some people develop financial awareness early in life, but I am not some people. Apparently.

Can a girl get a time machine, please?

I made some serious financial errors when I was flat out broke; many of which ended up negatively affecting my life. 22-year-old me wasn’t completely stupid, as in, she didn’t rack up thousands of dollars in credit card debt. She did have some real issues with misalignment of priorities.

However, all mistakes teach us a lesson. Or, at least that’s what we tell ourselves so that we don’t feel like such jerks about the idiotic things we’ve done over the years.

Life lessons learned or not, I think I’d probably like to take 22-year-old Michelle and slap her around a bit. If anyone figures out how to invent a time machine, let me know. I have a few bones to pick with that girl!

This post was written by Michelle and Michael at Your Money Geek. It is republished here with permission.