#He says I don’t remember this; it was likely the photographer. I say honestly I’d have amnesia after this too

[aeolianblues]

“I think this was the photographer’s idea 😳”

Sorry, I can’t take calls. This affliction will last all day

[nonotnolan]

Rookie Mistake

“Yeah, I realized the other day that, like... I’ve spent the last five Sunday afternoons, like, completely blacked out,” he said, rubbing his hands as he spoke.  Dave, our next door neighbor, was telling my mother why he didn’t host his normal Saturday night party yesterday.  I had to admit I was not expecting that answer.  “I didn’t even think I had been drinking that much, but like... why else would that happen, y’know?"

Well, I knew exactly why he had been blacked out the past five Sundays-- I’d been using the spellbook I found in the attic to slip into his smoking hot body.  Look at his chest, can you blame me?  Dude has shoulders for days.  I’d hop into his body when my mom and her husband went out on their date night, and then I would download Grindr to score a few casual hookups with some eager twinks.  Being home from college over the summer sucked, and Dave’s body helped make it suck less.  It was a victimless crime-- or so I had thought.  

Honestly, I hadn’t even thought about what Dave would remember whenever I hopped into his body.  Total rookie mistake, but it could have been a lot worse.  As long as I stayed out of his body, his blackouts would stop, and no one would be any the wiser.  Dave excused himself and went back inside his house, while Mom and I finished up bringing the groceries inside.  Hopefully I didn’t look too guilty.

I took the spellbook down off my shelf, and pulled up Google translate again-- the damn thing was written in Latin.  The good news is that all of the spells were illustrated, so it was usually pretty clear what each spell would do.  The bad news is that a lot of the rules were written in small, cursive handwriting that the computer couldn’t read when photographed.  I was making decent headway translating word by word, but it was... tedious, to say the least.  Can you blame me for getting impatient?

The astral form spell I’d been using to possess Dave hadn’t said anything about memory loss, but I had also stopped translating after three paragraphs.  I’d already learned the important pieces, or so I had thought.  You can’t travel more than a quarter mile away from your body without risking permanent separation, your astral form could be blocked by wards or captured by soul snares, whatever the hell those were... and then the spell started talking about how it was really good for spying on your enemies.  Wouldn’t something like target memory loss be important enough to mention earlier?  I was livid, but it was ultimately my mistake for using a spell that I hadn’t fully translated.

I’d only made it through another half-paragraph before I got interrupted by a knock on my door.  “Sweetie, I just wanted to let you know that it’s just me going out tonight,” Mom said.  “Henry isn’t feeling well, so he’s going to stay behind and rest up, okay?  I know I don’t have to worry about you staying quiet for him while he sleeps.  See you tonight!”

I could scarcely maintain my excitement as I waited for the sound of my mother locking the front door.  Henry, my step-father, was a delicious otter of a man.  I hadn’t even considered the thought of taking over his body, but how could I resist an opportunity handed to me on such a silver platter?  And if he was planning on sleeping anyway, the memory loss issue didn’t matter!  Translating the rest of the spell could wait, I needed to seize this opportunity before it slipped away.  I made sure to clear off my bed, and position myself in a neutral posture before casting the spell-- the first time I used the spell and returned to my body, the crick in my neck took three days to fully heal.  Once my astral form had separated itself from my body, I flew as fast as I could to Henry’s sleeping form.

After all... just look at this man.  Henry is... he’s like gay candy.  Any time the three of us go out together, I don’t think he realizes how many skinny dudes can’t look away from him.  And for the next few hours, that would be me.  God, it was such a rush to think about that.  Can you blame me for getting excited?  Aside from the occasional dress pant, Henry never really wore anything that would display his bulge, so I wasn’t sure what sort of equipment I would be working with, but... now that it was in my hands, I was not disappointed.  So that was a ten minute detour.  I’m only human, after all.

My next order of business was to take some raunchy selfies and send them to my phone for some, uhh... future me time.  The problem was that the only rooms in the house with good lighting were also the rooms where Mom had already redecorated Henry’s house with floral wallpaper.  Seeing that in the background was just a total boner kill.  I’d have to use my room for photos.  I try to avoid seeing my lifeless body whenever I can-- it’s kind of unsettling-- but in this case, it was worth the discomfort.

I figured Henry’s strength would be more than enough to carry my body down to the living room couch, only... when I opened my door, the bed was empty.  The pit of my stomach sank to the floor as I stared at the impression in my bed sheets, the only remaining sign that my body had previously been resting there.  I started taking deep breaths, running my hands across my new chest fur as I tried to calm down.  If the astral form spell was going to cause my body to disappear, it would have happened before today.  The first step was probably to search the rest of the house, just in case anything else had been displaced.

I found my body outside, shirtless, smoking a cigarette on the patio.  He had to have heard me-- I certainly wasn’t quiet as I flung upon the back door-- but he didn’t even bother to look up at me.

“Who are you, and what are you doing in my body?” I said, trying to puff out Henry’s chest for maximum intimidation.

My body responded by blowing a cloud of smoke into my face.  “Get over yourself,” he said, taking another long drag.  “You grabbed my spellbook out of my attic, turned the next door neighbor into a meat suit, and now you have the gall to pretend that you’re the victim here?”

I tried to think of some sort of witty comeback, but my brain had completely frozen up.  “I... Henry?  Is that you in there?  What are you doing?”

“Watching you fall for the world’s most obvious trap,” he said, lording over me with a smug grin on his face.  He had me dead to rights, and we both knew it.  “Your mother hadn’t even finished pulling out of the driveway, and your horny ass was already trying to take over my body.  Good thing I had already started my own astral form before she left.  Mind you, I have ways of keeping unwanted spirits out of my body... but then we wouldn’t be having this delightful conversation, would we?

“Consider yourself busted,” he said, snuffing out the cigarette on the patio table.  “You’re going to spend the night here, pretending to be me while keeping to yourself under the guise of feeling sick.  I’m going to take your body out for a joyride tonight, same as you did to Dave.  We’ll switch back in the morning.  No funny business, or you’ll learn first hand why I no longer need to use a spellbook to cast magic.”

“Y-yes, sir,” I said, nodding my head.  Seeing Henry inside of my lanky body with his arms crossed, it looked catty rather than intimidating.  All the same, I was not about to try and mess with him any further.  Better to take the L here.  “Hey, uhh... after tonight’s punishment... do you... do you think you could teach me how to use that spellbook?”

Henry paused, sizing me up and down with his eyes before speaking.  “Me, teaching you?  After a rookie mistake like this?  Not on your life.”

[valewritessss]

WHAT CABIN DO YOU THINK THE KOTLC CHARACTERS WOULD BE IN??

OKAY OKAY OKAY IVE BEEN READY FOR THIS ONE

Sophie- photographic memory is giving me Athena child, but she very well could be something else. It’s hard to tell when we’re talking about ability-based bc she has so many. Out of all the characters she’s the one I struggle the most with to assign a cabin

Dex- Hephaestus for obvious reasons, but also because Leo in hoo talks about being left out a lot and the fact that Dex gets less page time than Silveny says lots about that

Biana and Fitz- I think Fitz and Biana would both be Aphrodite kids bc a) they’re siblings so it makes sense for them to be the same cabin and b) it’s constantly mentioned how beautiful they are. I honestly think all of the Vackers would be. If any of them had charmspeak it would definitely be Alvar and maybe Fitz, which would give chance for such good Fitz rage. And like I said in my other post, Biana is a prime example of what the Aphrodite cabin would be like if written correctly and not just handed the “femininity makes me weak” role. She slays literally and figuratively.

Keefe- APOLLO APOLLO APOLLO (not just bc he’s blond just think about it really think about it) I want to explain but I can’t form the words so just think about it plsss

Marella- abilities would make her Hephaestus for sure, some of her personality traits would make her Aphrodite, but i don’t think she’d be a demigod I’d think she’d join the hunters of Artemis. OR OR OR she’s a child of Hephaestus and joins then joins the hunters (I forgot that was an option for a second)

Tam- so I looked into it and child of Hecate seems pretty good? I mean darkness and his ability with shadows is kind of eerie-like, and perfectly fit with Hecate. Also, the ability to control the mist sounds like a Tam thing

Linh- well, we’re all thinking it right? Poseidon. But less of the raging storm more of the gentle ocean waves kissing your feet and occasionally the raging storms. Like a touch of sadness and sorrow but easy to see the beauty in it so it’s not scary. Idk if that made sense Im spewing words here.

Wylie- I was thinking maybe Athena because he sees reason, you know? And I read Kotlc a very long time ago so I don’t remember much about him. He had that studious vibe to him idk. I’m going purely based off of feels rn😭

Stina- Nemesis. Okay okay, here me out. Girly holds her grudges, she’s a little mean, but she doesn’t let that stop her from helping Silveny whatever the motive may be. And if we’re thinking story wise, it’s like Ethan Nakamura if you squint but it’s there I can’t explain it. Seems bad, can be bad, but she’s proof that it’s never 100% bad, people have layers, like an onion

Maruca- Ares, and the reason is because she’s pretty bluntly honest, and she’s hella determined. Ares kids are mostly seen to be very frank, and that fits her perfectly. And her determination is a trait we can see in Clarisse(most of the time in the form of stubbornness, ahem, refusing to fight) but ofc in their world everything is sunshine and rainbows so determination, not stuborness. In all seriousness I mean determination because it fits her more than stubbornness but they’re similar traits. Idk I’m getting off topic

Those were all the characters I could think of at the top of my head and if you disagree with any let me know I just did these for fun nothing serious

I would love it if anyone wants to send me characters that I didn’t do and ill give them a cabin😊

[pinky27freak]

\•~{Rook X Yuu}~•/

\•~{camping}~•/

Rook hummed with a soft smile his green eyes sparkling as the lamps golden light perfectly highlighted his face, hair and torso before spreading out above him on the deep purple sheets, like a solid roof of gold above our heads. I smiled softly as I thought of what a beautiful picture this would be.

Rook, myself, Epel, and surprisingly, Vil had planned to do a small camp out this weekend, but in the end, it had rain. Though this was disappointing, Epel and Rook had decided that we could still do a camp out inside. And that’s where we were. In Pomefiore's lounge in our own homemade blanket tint. A sleeping Epel laying beside me, snoring slightly as Rook and myself talked and such deeper into the stormy night.

“Rook, don’t move.” He flinched a bit at the sudden request but sat still and in the same pose as I took out my phone and snapped a picture. “There.” I smiled, looking at it, the rain beating down harder now as the thunder washed across the sky like an ocean wave. He turned around a blank face of curiosity, adorning him in a peaceful manner, leaning towards me in an attempt to see what I’d capture in my phone.

“What did you capture Mon oiseau chanteur?” He asks.

“A boy in a homemade tent that looks very happy.” I smirked, turning my phone around as to let him see the screen and the picture of himself. He hummed again, a bigger smile taking hold of his face.

“You have quite an eye for pictures, Oiseau chanteur! I dare say your talent exceeds my own in this case!” His closed eye smile became him very well and the word he chose in this instance, though I myself had to stifle a laugh.

“I highly doubt that Rook. You most likely have been taking pictures longer than myself.”

“Oh?” His eyes popped open, and his eyebrows went up as his mouth went into a small o shape. “How long have you been taking pictures then?” I sat back and looked up at the blanket ceiling, biting my lip as I thought.

“Uhhhhh……. Three years, maybe? Two?” I sighed. “I honestly don’t remember.”

“Ah, in that case, I do have more experience in between us.” He said, bowing back to his previous position. “I began when I was twelve. Pere and Mere bought me a camera for my birthday and I have immersed myself in the art of photographer ever since.” He end with a dramatic wave of his hand cause me to snicker in response.

“I wonder where you got that uniqueness from Venandi.” I smiled using my nickname for him, which meant hunter. “Was it Mere or Pere?”

“Both Mon oiseau chanteur!” He had a slightly sly smile. “A child can not be nothing but a combination of their parents.”

“True.” I chuckled unconsciously, looking him over. “But it does make me curious about your siblings and what they are like.” Rook smirked, side eyeing me as his head tilted upwards towards our soft dark purple blanketed sky above us.

“Hmm.” He chuckled with a slight bit of a hum. “Careful oiseau chanteur ~” He purred slightly. “Curiosity killed the cat.” I smiled sinisterly, letting my head come to rest on my out stretched hand as I lay on my side.

“Oui Mon Venandi. But you forget one thing.” I smiled. “Satisfaction brought it back.” Rook chuckled softly, letting his own sinister smile slide into his smooth lips.

“Oui Mon oiseau chanteur~” He purred with a small growl in his throat. “Though unlike a cat, I doubt you would be able to come back. Which would be a shame. To deprived the world of such beauty.” He smiled as his eyes narrowed a bit as his remark sent a wave of crimson blush across my face before I burring it into my pillow. Rook smiled and chuckled. “Has my words set your face a flame oiseau chanteur?”

I made an audible displeased noise as I looked up and glared at him slightly. He smiled and set his pointer finger on his chin as Jade usually did. “Peut-etre ai-je enflammé ton cœur mon oiseau chanteur.” He spoke his eyes, smirking a bit as I frowned. I knew just a bit of French, and the only word that I knew, besides his nickname for me, in his sentence was flamme, which meant flame of blaze.

“Eh?” I said. “I only got flame out of that.” Rook chuckled softly at my reply and slowly leaned closer, smiling.

“I said; perhaps I have set your heart ablaze my little song bird.” He smiled as my blush returned ten times fold.

“B-baka!” I said, shoving the pillow in his face. He chuckled and removed the pillow.

“Oh? Then why does your face turn red every time I complément you oiseau chanteur?” He said, smirking his eyes, getting a dangoures look in them.

“Because I have never gotten complements from guys, come on Rook, you know that.” I frowned, knowing that he was trying to corner me in this little game of cat and mouse.

“That maybe so. But answer me this then. Why do you watch me in class then?” He smiled, seeing me pause. “Don’t pretend Mon oiseau chanteur, I know what your stare feels like. I can see and sence you in the corner of my eye. I see your beautiful eyes staring at me, I feel them looking at me in a light different than most others. I see the way a small amount of blush appears on your cheeks when you see or talk me oiseau chanteur. You stutter when I complment you, or freeze like a deer in headlights. You pick at your thumbs quticals when you're nervous, which you do unconsciously around me. Such as right now.” He smiled, and I looked down at my right thumb to see the qutical of the nail bed bleeding and my pointer fingers tip bloody with dried blood under the nail it’s self.

I bit the inside of my lip, still looking at my thumb as Rook smirked.

“You also like to pick on me. Try to get under my skin by calling me names and so on. So I myself have come to a conclusion with this evidence, one that will not be changed easily oiseau chanteur.” I could almost hear him smirking as I kept my head down, picking more at my thumb before a gloved hand took it, separated the fingers from each other. “Mon oiseau chanteur, your going to scar those beautiful hands of yours.~” He purred before taking it up to his lips and kissing the small wound, though his toung swipe over it didn’t go unnoticed by me and I quickly took my hand back.

“What was your conclusion?” I asked, still not looking at him.

“That I have set your heart a blaze Mon oiseau chanteur.” He said. “And you have done the same to mine.” He said, looking up at me the eyes of a hunter watching me steadily before his lips curled into a smile, an indication that my face was betraying me again. He waited, his hand recapuring my own and clutching it, his lips only inches away from the skin, for my answer.

“Rook-“

“Say it again.”

“What?”

“My name.” He looked up, his smile was gone, and his eyes were unreadable. “Say my name again, mon oiseau chanteur.” I blushed, biting the inside of my lip again.

“Rook?”

“Again.”

“R-rook”

“Again.”

“R-rook” He placed his hand on the side of my face and ran his thumb across my lip as I started to shrink back though he steadily leaned closer to me.

“Again mon Oiseau chanteur. Je veux entendre ta belle voix appeler mon nom.”

“R-rook,……” I stuttered his face inches away from my own as his thumb pressed down slightly on my lip as my face became like a cherry.

“Once more.” He said softly, his eyes looking at my lips with an unreadable expression.

“…Roo-“ He gently pressed his lips against mine, my eyes flying open in contrast to his closed ones. The kiss itself was neither long or short, but when he pulled away, he was breathing heavily, and I was still too stunned to do anything. He chuckled softly, still cupping my cheek.

“Mon oiseau chanteur? Have I startled you so much with my love that you are unable to comprehend it?” He smiled as my face slowly turned red again before nodding in silence.

He hummed as his thumb made soft circular motions in my cheek. I leaned into his touch, my eyes closing in comfort as Rook smiled his other hand, enter twining our fingers. After a moment of this, I opened my eyes to see forest green ones smiling back at me with so much love in them. A small smile broke out on my own face as we just took in each other’s presents.

“Yuu I-“

“Je t'aime Rook.” I said my cheeks, darkening more as Rook paused, a small look of surprise on his face before it broke out into a smile as his other hand came up to my other cheek.

“Je t’aime aussi mon petit oiseau chanteur.” He purred resting our for heads against each other as I smiled and put my hands on his. His eyes darted back to my lips and then back to my eyes. “May I kiss you again?” he asked, his thumb still rubbing circular motions into my cheek, and I nodded.

Rook smiled and brushed his lips over mine in feather like touches before planting a kiss on to each corner of my mouth before finally kissing me firmly on my lips. I hummed and kissed him back gently, still trying to figure it out. In the end, my arms were around his neck, and his planted on my back and the back of my head. When we pulled away, we were both out of breath, but in a good way, as we rested our heads together again.

*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ*:・ﾟ

Epel yawned and looked up at the blanket, ceiling the morning suns rays, making the purple appear lighter than normal. He sighed and sat up almost immediately, freezing.

“R-rook?”

“Shh. My little song bird is sleeping.” He smiled gently, playing with the girls hair as she slept. Epel staring at them for a moment.

“You know she wouldn’t like that ........ ” Epel whispered, frowning and crawling over to his senior. Rook smirked at the boy and just chuckled, her fingers lightly grazing Yuu's cheek.

“Well I’m sure she wouldn’t mind her boyfriend admiring her own sleeping beauty.��

“Boyfriend?! What were ya'll do'n while i was sleep'n?!” Epel said, his normal accent coming out as Yuu jerked awake at the loud noise.

"Huh?"

[lampmanliveblogs]

The end credits showcase some beautiful drawings. Originally, I wasn’t gonna include all of them… but then I realized that if I’ve already taken 137 screenshots (give or take), then 9 more aren't gonna make that huge of a difference.

We’ve got some nice, sorta slice-of-life scenes, you know, things we could have gotten to see properly if season three had actually been a full season and not three double length ”specials.”

Sorry, I don’t want to be bitter.

I really like that Luz is showing Camila how to draw some glyphs. Who knows, maybe Mama Noceda will bust out some fire glyphs during her adventures into edgy Narnia.

Oh, this is DEFINITELY a ship. ”Ett skepp kommer lastat!” as we say where I’m from.

This picture is so chaotic, I kinda love it. Willow and Hunter both scared, Gus screaming at the top of his lungs and throwing popcorn everywhere (which goes to explain why the room is empty…). Amity’s scared too and clinging to Luz, who in turn looks like she’s thinking ”Gee willikers, I get to hold Amity’s hand!”

Vee’s just chilling in the background. You love to see it.

A snapshot of Hunter sleeping, safe and sound, with his new favorite book and best friend to watch over him… but the past still intrudes upon his happy present, represented by the book on witch hunters and photograph of the brothers Wittebane.

…then we have these two drawings. Call them Doktor Sadness, because they’re here to bring down the mood.

I’d insult Philip some more, but honestly… I’ve kinda used up all my material. Maybe I could think of some more, but I need to have some stuff for when he inevitably makes his return in either or both of the coming two episodes.

And then Luz crying at the abandoned house… Just stab me in the chest too while you’re at it.

But fortunately, we end on a good note; the Exiles ready to return home, Luz ready to return to her second home, and Camila ready to venture into a brand new world.

Also, Vee in the background like Õ_Õ 

So yeah, that was Thanks to Them! Suffice it to say that I loved it. Is it everything I’ve ever dreamed of? Pretty much, yeah. I think that everything I realistically expected to happen in this episode did happen. Going into the next one, I expect to find out what happened to Eda, King and the others, as well as what The Collector is up to. There’s also the question of what Philip’s plan is going back to the Demon Realm, as well as how Luz will overcome her crushing feelings of guilt.

This has taken me a really long time and it’s getting late, so this is where I’m gonna have to say farewell for now. Hopefully the next two episodes will not take as long as this one. We’ll see. Until next time… take care of the planet Earth and remember that anything can happen in space!

[shamelessrabbithole]

i’m honestly with you on this. english isn’t my first language so i thought it was either my ‘lack of skills’ in understanding what she wrote or if i was too tired to understand. let’s pretend that this is written about her relationship with cameron and the public eye (just to give it a meaning). it would ‘make sense’ for her to mention how she watched him through instagram (and maybe his work too?) and how being around the person irl is different and shows dept?

but then i’m confused. cause she says ‘we want love, but confuse it for attention’. does it mean she thought cameron wanted her attention? as in, he wanted to show himself, wanting her to admire the things he had archived, his passions? (example him travelling with her, taking pics of her as a showing off his skills, the hotel being expensive). maybe being in NYC was a realisation it wasn’t shallow but something deeper as love?

for the last bit i really don’t understand cause i’m not the type of person that believes in spiritual and things like that. the only explanation i would have on it is how she was attracted to him from the beginning but her ‘brain’ told her he was doing it for attention and not for *her* attention only and how in the end she should have trusted her body/need to be with him sooner?

if it’s about him it would make sense (if my analysis would be right) cause it would check out with how someone would feel off in seeing a guy having many girl-friends, having flirt-ish personality and maybe even seeing how he does the same things with everyone? which would explain why she seemed a bit ‘colder’ on social when he tagged her etc. i’d love to see if they post something together sooner than later so we can see how they interact now

Your interpretation is interesting. There's a lot of analysis that ropes in Cameron's "quirks" and perhaps oddball behaviors while in relationships with women. But, that assumes that Madison finds any of it odd. I've always felt that she's an open-minded free spirit and is unbothered by most of the stuff you mentioned (having many female friends, photographing them semi-nude, repeated stays with women at the Ludlow, etc.)

When I mentioned previously that this post may be about her own experiences with watching others in the digital space, I thought of her watching other dancers and content creators. And perhaps forgetting that we're more than just the content we create, but sensitive beings craving attention and love. To remember that and not be one-sided in our judgements or evaluations.

If it's a message speaking directly to her followers, and it is about her and Cam, then I felt it might be a reminder to them that she and Cam are real people. That those who are judging and criticizing are doing it for the attention and that they ought to reflect on not only why they're doing it, but to be more feeling, empathetic, and reasonable in their approach and the kinds of comments they're making.

I'll also reiterate that I have no idea what her intention actually was with that post. And, I usually don't like to decipher abstract stuff like this because 1) there's no way to know for sure if I'm right 2) it's a waste of time to unpack the words jotted down over a story that will disappear in 24 hours. It was probably written in less time and with less meaning/purpose than any analysis about it ever could be worth.

[toads-treasures]

Fifteen questions for fifteen mutuals!

(It will probably not be fifteen I am too scared to tag too many people)

I was tagged by @galaxycunt weeks ago, and I finally got around to answering.

Tagging @hereforthehaunts @cactme @plasticdodecagon @iwanttobecomeavoid @mars-colony no pressure tho!

Also, feel free to skip any questions you don’t wanna answer.

1. Are you named after anyone?

My great grandpa Tora. But he went by Tory. He was apparently a grumpy ol sonofabitch according to my dad, but it was also his idea to name me after him so 🤷‍♀️

2. When was the last time you cried?

Prolly like two days ago but I don’t know for sure for sure. I cry all the time. I think this time I was crying in frustration at packing for my last camping trip lol

3. Do you have kids?

Nope, and I don’t know if I want any tbh. It would really cut into my time of being the Weird/Fun Aunt who lets my nieces and nephews stay up too late and helps them dye their hair

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Not nearly as much as I did when I was younger. We call that Growth 😌 but sometimes I can’t help myself

5. What sports do you play/have you played?

Ha. I am so uncoordinated I don’t play any sports. I played tennis for one year in high school and hated it. I’ve gone rock climbing once and really enjoyed it even though I was scared shitless, so I’d really like to get back into that. I’ve also been kind of wanting to play tennis again just for funsies with my husband and not actually pay attention to any rules or anything and just have fun.

6. What’s the first thing you notice about other people?

I think height? Because I’m pretty tall and if someone is taller than I am I definitely notice

7. Eye color?

Hazel is the least pretentious way to describe it. Or green…ish.

8. Scary movie or happy endings?

Why not both? I will say I like things to end happily, because I need to have some semblance of hope in the world lol, but also bittersweet endings will stick with me for the rest of my life.

9. Any special talents?

I am freaky good with names and faces. I will remember people who I had one college class with but never actually personally interacted with them. I can also like, trifold my tongue so it looks like a clover.

10. Where were you born?

Ha nice try fbi. Just kidding, it’s just a small town (like, less than a thousand people) in southern Utah and I highly doubt anyone would know the name or where it was, but if perchance they do, it probably means I know them in real life and I’d rather not risk it.

11. Free space

Ummmmm I love hiking and camping, and I’d love to get into photography and videography to be like a nature photographer, I think that would be cool. But I’m also Very Bad at taking pictures. I always forget to take them, or I frame it really bad or the lighting is really bad, I’ve got a lot to learn with that hobby lol. Also I wish I could just wear my crunchy/granolaey/outfits all the time business casual my absolute beloathed

12. Do you have any pets?

No 😔 I want one, either a cat or a dog, but honestly I have so much anxiety around it because there’s this CREATURE in my HOUSE and it needs me to live! And what if it eats my plants and what if my plants are toxic and what if it chews a hole in the floor or the door and we get kicked out and and and (you get the idea).

13. How tall are you?

5’10” 😎 my husband insists I’m 5’9” but he’s wrong

14. Favorite subject in school?

I’m still recovering from the god complex that being in English class gave me so, we’ll leave it at that.

15. Dream job?

I do not dream of labor, but I have a few ideas of what would be preferable than being a receptionist for the rest of my life lol. I’d like to open an online sticker/print shop and just draw and design cute silly stationary and stickers. I’ve also always dreamed of being an author, but seeing as how I can’t finish any of my wips that will probably remain a dream lol.

[the-one-blog-to-rule-them-all]

FF7 spoilers under the break you've been warned

So here’s my official writeup on my thoughts and feelings on FF7 from start to finish. I’m sure I’ll skip some parts but I just neeeeeed to talk about this and I have nobody to talk to about it now bc my irl friends are not the fandom girlies I typically associate with lol. For anyone who reads this, bear in mind that I have somehow not been spoiled for literally anything in the OG game (and haven’t played it) aside from the one obvious big thing (and even then, I didn’t know when it happens or any of the circumstances surrounding it).

The start of the game is hype and exciting because WOW NEW LOCATION!!! But honestly I had a bit of doubt going in. I was incredibly excited just to get back into the world I hold so dearly to my heart but there’s always this nervousness that comes with any piece of media you look so forward to because if it sucks then it just… ends. You don’t get a redo of something, ya know? So there’s always that preliminary anxiety when I’m starting something new because I’ve really put all of my emotional eggs in this basket and I need it to be good. 

But yeah you start off in Kalm and let me tell you the fucking cornfusion I was having with Cloud retelling this story to all of his friends… The Nibelheim Incident. And the whole time he’s retelling the story I’m like man I just don’t remember any of this and I’ve played the hell out of Crisis Core and I could have sworn this was Zack, Sephiroth, and Cloud (as a hidden shinra soldier, not out as Cloud). Like I remember the photograph they took with Tifa on the way up the mountain and it was Zack and Sephiroth and Tifa, no big Cloud moment. I remember thinking “But wasn’t Zack paired up with Sephiroth?” so I was incredibly confused by the end of this segment. But then Tifa validated my confusion by being incredulous herself so I was like oh okay, I’m not fucking crazy. Although I was still super confused!! Like why are they both remembering different things and not mentioning Zack at all (that comes later) and is Cloud lying? And is he doing it on purpose? That’s not the Cloud I know, the Cloud I know is a SOLDIER and seems pretty honorable (that’s my fucking bad by the way, I do NOT understand how playing Crisis Core three times, watching Advent Children countless times, and consuming so much fanfic and other media around this universe has allowed me to blow past the fact that CLOUD WAS NEVER A FUCKING SOLDIER. He couldn’t pass the mental test so he was just a regular Shinra grunt this whole fucking time and the only reason he has the Mako eyes is because of that fucking four years of tube testing Hojo did on him and Zack!! And then he just mentally checked Zack out after the trauma of his death and was like “yep, actually I did all of these things and Zack isn’t real”. LIKE WHAT??!?!?!?!!?!?! HOW DID I MISS THAT LMFAO)

To be honest the first half or so of the game kind of blurred together because it was very very very light on the story and that was really brutal for me. I think the first time I played Remake when it came out I blew through the story in like… 25 hours. I didn’t do AAAANY side quests because I was just so excited for the story stuff. So this time I really wanted to enjoy the story correctly and play it right the first time so that first half of the game was me doing the Rumplestiltskin toe gripping thing while I fought my way through all of the little side quests. But they felt fulfilling honestly. I really do love building a relationship with these characters but holy farking ship, I kept talking to Tifa all wrong and I was so scared lol. I swear every time I’d have to make a dialogue choice I picked the wrong one and he would say some dumbass shit to her. I was building a relationship with Barret easy fucking peasy we were just a couple of guys being dudes. And boy do I love Barret. I’ll always love the trope of a big scary man with a heart of gold and he’s honestly the model for that now. Every time he’d mention Marlene I’d feel my heart swell with joy that this imaginary character has so much love for that little girl. And I love Red XIII so much too, although slightly less now that his personality changed COMPLETELY, but I still can’t help but love him. I spent the whole first half of the game anxiously waiting for Cid or Vincent to show up (AS WELL AS FUCKING RENO, and although I understand why they cut his character for the ENTIRE GAME I cannot help but be heartbroken that one of my favorite characters was just left out) and forgot completely about Cait Sith!!!! So when we got to the sauce and I saw him my little heart completely leapt out of my chest I was so excited!! He was such a really truly amazing and wonderful little guy and I can’t believe I forgot about him. I didn’t know he was a little robot though which was shocking to learn, but it doesn’t matter. His little sacrifice at the end of the game made me tear up regardless of that. Yuffie was there too but she made me sooo mad at first lmao I ended up enjoying her character a lot though!

Queen’s Blood fucking rocked btw, that was insanely addicting and I wish they had more people to play lol. 

Cloud is insanely loveable and crushable. I absolutely adore him and always have and always will. He’s such an endearing protagonist and to see him go through so much in this game was a lot to take in. The scenes he had where he was feeling joy were so important and added so much. I also love the Tifa cat side quest. 

So yeah the story is kinda slow up until a little after the halfway point I’d say? It was a lot of just moving from place to place and slowly building things up but I think it worked. I will say that the Zack segments were short and confusing because of their scarcity and length. I would play as him for 3 minutes after 20 hours of doing other shit and then be like “wow! I still know nothing!” lol. Which isn’t a bad thing necessarily but it was disappointing when I felt like there was a lot of marketing in this game about Zacks part of the story. But once the story picked up I was so fucking in dude. Also once I got my Cloud/Tifa date outcome on the first try it was like the game allowed me to give 0 fucks about finishing the rest of the side quests I had left by the wayside lol. Which was nice. And their date was absolutely everything my shipping heart wanted. The Loveless Play was SOOOOO AMAZING OMG the set and how they put all of the characters into it! Was so good. And I’m a sucker for that kind of thing. AND THEN THE FERRIS WHEEL?!?!?!?! Their entire conversation the entire date was so like warm and “natural” for them and it was so nice to see Cloud be a little more open and see Tifa also be more vulnerable. And the kiss was so magical I felt like a little fly on the wall and I cheered and cheered out loud when it happened cause I really did NOOOTTTT think they’d actually put a kiss in the game since I know there’s a lot of “Aerith vs Tifa” drama in the fandom (always has been). Ahhhh I’m so happy lol it was so awesome. 

By the way I didn’t know that Cloud had this possession/degradation thing going on either. So when that started happening that was totally alarming. When he knocked Tifa into the mako reactor in his evil little way I was fucking shocked. I truly thought they were rewriting the game to kill Tifa off or something, but that whole segment was absolutely gorgeous and I’m surprised they didn’t touch on it more later on. Just because it seems like it would be a life impacting moment for Tifa. And also cannot believe that after that incident Tifa didn’t go to the others and say “hey uhh something’s fucking wrong with him right now, if he starts being super weird make sure you stay away from him cause he might actually try to kill you” lol. But man it broke my heart sooo bad seeing Cloud like that. Especially because in this game I feel like they really let his goofy personality shine a little bit more so it felt like he was truly not himself. 

Meeting Vincent and Cid was a dream. I’ve played Dirge of Cerberus ages ago but I don’t think I beat it, but I love Vincent and Cid lol. Cid is just a goofy redneck so that always resonates with me and everybody loves a super serious vampire. Cait Sith’s betrayal stung like a bitch because he was kinda my favorite “new” companion and I loved his positive attitude and outlook. But like I said earlier, his redemption was really beautiful. 

Leif was so convinced they would change Aerith’s death to Tifa to just subvert and change things but I don’t think he was quite understanding of the impact Aeriths death has. Her sacrifice because she’s a Cetra and how she can change the fate of the world and her friends with this one incredibly selfless decision. She’s never had a normal life and finally makes the friends she wanted so badly and went on an incredible adventure and now she has to give all of that up after not enough time with them? Powerful and painful. And like I said, I didn’t know the circumstances surrounding it or when it happened so the entire game I was on edge wondering if it would happen this game or not and well… sure did lol. I figured it would be at the end of this game to give them all the motivation to really end it all in the next game but it still hit me like a train. That entire sequence at the beginning of chapter 14 where Cloud and Aerith are in the sort of “after life” or the “acceptance” area had me crying like a baby. The way everyone was just happily accepting their fate and their one last chance to do the things they did in regular life. Blegh. And when they got to the church and he was still confused and she was just thanking him and telling him not to blame himself and he falls into consciousness again as Sephiroth is walking into the church in the background. I made this weird audible sob because I knew it was coming and I was so scared for her. I’m telling you this game was really immersive. I have never felt myself just totally disappear in a game like that ever.

So yeah, then that happens. And it was such a sad scene but really so beautiful and impactful. Bro I’m tearing up again just typing this out hahaha. And the quick time events they have you do to try to stop Cloud from being the one who kills her was so difficult and that just added so much to the immersion, and then it’s all kind of for nothing (or so it seems? But yes for nothing) when sephiroth kills her, and it shows everyone crying and the music is insanely gorgeous during this entire time by the way. From the second they took to the afterlife in Midgar together to now the music has been non stop amazing. And then I’m just thinking back to Aerith singing her song on the Loveless stage and her crying and GUHHHHH. I truly wanted to destroy Sephiroth, fuck that guy I’ve had way more than enough of him. The whole scene was devastatingly beautiful. I can’t put it into words at all. 

And then to see that Cloud is still poisoned at the end of the game was also heartbreaking. Watching them all prepare to fly away and “leave” Aerith behind was heartbreaking. Watching Aerith become their guardian angel was heartbreaking. But my god what a fulfilling game. I feel broken on games forever. 

But that part where you have to throw boxes as Cait Sith and Fat Moogle? Fuck that shit. 

Anyways 10/10

[foreignobjecticus]

My Year in Review

My actual personal year in review that isn’t autogenerated from a bunch of marketable statistics lol. I’m writing this down and putting it here in a semi-public place because I kind of do want to share it, but I also don’t entirely want to be shouting from the rooftops everything I’ve written. I just feel like I want to put it under a cut and if it’s read, so be it. Don’t feel obligated to read or respond. I usually write things out and find enough catharsis in not posting them, but for a treat, I’ll post it for myself to remember this time.

 I’ve been incredibly hard on myself this year, mainly because I’ve been unable to write properly or “produce” anything at all despite having had the time. I guess it’s all a knock-on effect of having been stuck where I was for so long, with a giant, governmentally inforced TBA on every single aspect of my life for most of that time. I’m slowlyyyyyyy getting better, but I’m so conscious of how “badly“ I’ve been “performing“ when I used to be so “good“ in the past. Beating myself up about it clearly isn’t working, and nor is saying “I’m getting there“. But I will. Anyway, here’s a super quick summary of life this year (the first lockdown-free year), including some of the shite and bitterness, so I can remember that I’ve done a lot, even if it quite honestly feels like I’ve done not one bloody thing.

 January

Started a new job in a career I’d been trying to get into for 10 years. Finally making more than minimum wage for the first time in my life. Battled incredible imposter syndrome the entire time which made an originally part-time job feel exhausting.

February

Finally moved out of Victoria and got caught in inevitable but unavoidable major flooding while trying to find a new home.    

A lot of issues with crooked real estate agents, cleaners, removalists. Lost a lot of money, as is usual, despite having written evidence of everything and being “in the right“. Never been more stressed in my damned life. Engaged lawyers, nearly took people to court until they relented. Still have debts to settle but they’re not worth my health nor time, so I hope cosmic retribution smites them instead.

March

Officially left 10 year relationship and moved back home up north to live with parents, which was another trial in itself.

Condensed all my possessions down, left furniture with old partner. Now it fills their owned (not rented) apartment and sits next to their new MG, which I am still bitter about, sitting in my scratched up, insurance-voided car I lent them. Where was all this financial help from their parents when we were together? Oh, hidden from me while I supported them. Gotcha. Thanks. I suppose that’s what you get for keeping someone alive.

April

Caught up with a lot of life admin, cleaned things up, did my aviation medicals, started basics of learning to ride.

Painted my bedroom with mum (finally painted over all the teenage poetry I’d written on the walls). Built a bookcase shelf and other things with dad and grandfather who I’d kind of been distant with for quite a few years (grandfather, not dad). A little touched to see he had my very first photographs on the wall at his front door (a picture I took when I was 3 years old with dad, on old fashioned film, developed with him and came second in a photography competition).

Tried thc while painting. A stepladder has never, ever felt more dangerous. Didn’t do it again; it was really just for the sake of trying it. Not my thing, not surprised.

May

Flew a vintage bomber plane. Did my first ever real life loop-de-loops, barrel rolls, and Cuban-8s. It was like living a video game. I have never felt such an adrenaline rush. I wasn’t 100% sure I could handle doing aerobatics even though I knew I wanted to do them. Now I’m positive I want to do them. I didn’t control the plane through the manoeuvers but I had my hand on the stick to feel what the PIC was doing.

Investigated some health issues that were attributed to “women’s issues“. Practically verbatim there. How utterly useful.

June

Spent the past three months flying and riding pillion constantly. Got my pilot’s certificate on the day I flew out (on a commercial plane) down to Brisbane and onwards to the UK. Did 40 landings by myself alone in that plane that day, starting at 6am on dawn flights right up until I had to go check in for my flight to Brisbane. Even spoke on the radio to the pilots who flew me down later that evening. Flew over my house that’s nearly dead on the centre line of the runway and wiggled the wings at my     mum who waved back, then flew out over the wharfs and waved to dad. Even flew over my old schools where I used to run around and pretend I was an aeroplane when I was tiny. 25+ years of my personal and family history growing up and developing underneath me where I circled the city watching the Qantas planes landing from above instead of below after all these years. Christ, if I ain’t ever felt more proud of myself than I did     up there all alone in that plane. That wasn’t even my “first“ solo but it     felt so much more special to be flying over my home town (and the commercial pilots watching and congratulating me on the radio upon landing was another thing in itself). You can’t top that. You can’t even come close. How many people have done that? Fuck. Genuinely the proudest day of my life.

July

Went on a trip around the UK, cosplayed at Forever Avon, met lots of new and lovely people including people I’d only ever met online before that point.

Had the month off, which was nice, but no income which made it hard. It simultaneously felt unreal and completely expected to finally be truly out and about after two years of home lockdown back in Melbourne. The few months living at my parents’ home felt like it didn’t really count as true freedom because I was still working, I suppose.

August

Finally signed the lease on somewhere in the UK, met some (now) good friends. Had a lot of trouble and had to borrow money to pay 6 months in advance on the rental because my old real estate agents were crooks and my HR didn’t respond to emails for two weeks.

Felt a little bit stressed out when the money got down to about £10 and I was eeking out a pint of milk to last 3 days in a bucket of melted ice in the sink in 45C weather. Then the month’s pay came in and all was right with the world again.

September

Started flying in the UK, and gliding. Realised I have to start from scratch despite having just completed a certification and having exactly enough hours already to qualify for a license here. Struggled to do lessons because of bad weather. Now I’m very out of practice anyway.

Went to London a few times, saw a play, figured out I’m lactose intolerant. Was a good, if busy, month of travelling and making connections.

October

Idk. Had a bit of an over-it month and kept getting viciously angry with myself. Was so upset, I cancelled going to London to see a play I’d missed the month before because I was sick (Stephen Greif’s, who I paid to see twice and now will never). I take bailing out on things incredibly seriously and very rarely do it, so I felt utterly wretched about it. This is one reason why: an opportunity missed is just a regret, and I don’t like having those.

Analysed everything I’d been going through and actually started thinking about how I handled the past few years. Tried to take it a bit easier. Very tired. Still processing and trying to “fix” myself. No focus, no concentration, whole days went by and it felt like I did nothing of value. Belatedly realised I’ve been trying to push through things for a lot longer than a full year and I haven’t had a proper and true rest. Part of me wonders if such a thing even truly exists.

November

Played harp and sang on some backing tracks for a friend’s album that’s still a WIP.

Lost my job abruptly (not from performance but due to being a contractor). That was a great thing to tell my mother on her 60th     birthday: “happy birthday! I’m jobless and poor on the other side of the world”. Hurt infinitely more to cancel my flying lessons than it did to lose my job. Knew it would take two months to find a new job as everything stops over Christmas. I was right.

Started getting severe tooth pain and found the earliest possible appointment for January (pain is okay now; bruxism. Must have hurt myself, still twinges). 

December

Lots of job interviews, suddenly got taken on to do a rebranding of my old company, the final final edit of my PhD student’s final thesis, and design my friend’s new website for his album release/art collection. Still no job. Those other things don’t pay anywhere near what a real job would.

On the final stages of one job interview with a job that includes having clients… which I’m incredibly apprehensive about because having clients in jobs in the past made me so stressed out, I’m so reluctant to ever do it again. I have another job that I might get to the later stages of that pays at least £18k (seriously) more than the client one, but I’m not at the next stages with it yet, so I’m really worried about being offered one job and holding out for the next and then losing out on both. It’s useless to feel stressed, but I am. That’s just how it is.

Been very tired and wondered if I’m sick. I seem to dream too much to ever get a good night’s sleep anymore. I can now control quite a bit of the dreams but not usually enough to stop having them all together.

Had Christmas dinner with some of my new friends, as well as popped in on someone else and met their son. My landlord baked me cakes and I sanded, revarnished, painted and hanged the farm sign out the front as his Christmas present since he can’t do chocolates or wine, which is always my go-to present. He’s quite poorly atm from various things, so     I hope he comes right. I don’t really celebrate Christmas but it felt     lovely to have been thought of by so many people here, so have been sent cards from near and far. I’m certainly not lonely alone here on the farm; it’s actually been utterly perfect. For the first time in my life, I feel     like I have the perfect personal life balance in terms of living space,     area, number of friends, and social obligations. It’s perfect.

After Christmas, I stopped pushing myself and now I’ve spent a few days playing Skyrim in an attempt to do something for an extended period, to let myself focus for a long time and get back into the swing of one single thing without getting distracted. And it’s WORKING! Hell, I’ve taken a while to write this post, but I’ve not gotten distracted at all. I get so angry at myself because, even up until about ohh maybe November 2020, I’d never had a problem in my whole life with focus, and then it started getting bad. It’s a primary reason I’ve not written a bloody thing all year (and I know what I have in WIP and I do still feel guilty as all hell and it’s getting there! or I’m getting there!, but still). I’ve even found it difficult to read anything, whether it be a fic or a book or a news article. Small tasks have become something I put off for months instead of doing immediately. I bang on about it myself and it’s all well and good to say “one step at a time“, but it really is one step at a time, and now I have room to grow my old habits again, to pick up the way I used to live before I couldn’t live it anymore. So I’ll still be staying offline-ish for a bit, until I feel like I’m ready to reintroduce more of XYZ into my life. Take it easy, take it slow. Pushing clearly doesn’t work.

 So that’s my year in review. I’m healing, I’m processing, I’m letting go, I’m moving on, I’m picking up what I’ve never really put down because I’ve carried it with me the whole time. Thanks for hanging around, if you’ve read this far, and take it easy yourself. Life’s about having fun in the end, not a list of good and bad shit that you can hold up against other people’s years in review. Everyone lives differently. Hell, everyone’s lived wildly different lives just during the past three years, and no one really understands what others have been through even in that time. So Happy New Year. May 2023 bring only good things and you find contentment in yourself.

[poorjamesbond]

Tell Them Every Day

This is difficult beyond measure. A wind blows through these redwoods and where once it would have brought me joy, I feel cold in the warm spring air. I hear a woodpecker. There is holly growing in the yard that reminds me of my old house. A sea of acanthus and forget-me-nots. 

I awoke to my little brother telling me she had a fever and they were all going to the hospital. He told me I was welcome to stay as long as I like. I was up within five minutes, but they had already left. The house was still, the cat was not around. There was a cup of coffee left in the darkness of the kitchen. The milk was fresh. I did not look for sugar or for honey the way I normally would have. 

Her bottom lip was cleft at the corner. She had chewed through it. Botox in the sides of her face had helped, I was told, but now she has trouble keeping her mouth closed. It had fallen open on some recent night and her palate had gone so dry that it cracked and bled. I helped hold her forward in the early evening so she didn’t aspirate as she vomited. It was cool in the house. I was sweating with stress. 

“Welcome to our world,” her father said, as we did what we could. As we changed her clothes and cleaned her bed. I shouldn’t have been smoking after my surgeries, but I was. I need to stop again. 

They tell you what to hope for when you’re young, sometimes with words, sometimes without. They don’t tell you what might happen because they knowingly hope that it doesn’t. It always happens to someone else. When it happens to us, no one knows what to say about it.

A shock of what I can only believe were ducks flew through the trees and I was the only one here to see it. I don’t know how to do this. 

She deserves her life far more than I ever did. Loved it more than I ever loved my own. If a crueler mistress than this sort of cold reality exists, I have not met it. Could not even imagine it, as doing so would go against all I’d been taught, to hope for the best. All we’d been taught. All of us. Though, honestly, I’ve never been very good at it. 

She had always been patient with my sickness. Every time I spoke to her I’d tell her, out of blind hope, that I believed I was close to a personal breakthrough. I wasn’t. I just needed her to think I was okay. I wasn’t. And every time we parted, she’d tell me we should speak more often. We didn’t. 

Now the choice has been made for us. We will not likely speak again, as much as I am supposed to believe we will. I remember her as an infant. I remember her as a girl. I remember her as a woman open to this world in ways I could not fathom. She would greet her day with gratitude I only ever knew as foreign. She chose it. 

And in some endlessly mysterious way, she chose this. It’s too much to wrap the mind around. The last time that we communicated, she sent me photographs of the gorgeous architecture of the Germans. I was so happy for her. I asked if she was in Spain. She said no. She was still in Bremen. She missed her flight with intention. Germany called to her and she felt the need to stay. It was a compulsion. The accident was the following day. 

My follow-up text was only hours too late. She would never read it. She was already fighting for her life. 

I don’t know how to do this. Yet here I am, trying to do it. It’s like trying to glean meaning from an unknown language, or attempting true wilderness without water or a compass. 

One of her first words was my name. She’d wake up in the morning and cry it out with gleeful repetition. She loved me before we had been taught what love was. 

I needed her more than I thought I did. I don’t know how to do this.

[wingedcat13]

The barista’s dead-eyed, ‘I’m-not-paid-enough-for-this-shit’ look finds a mirror in yours as the flash goes off.

They’ve caught you accepting your drink, which you tried to do with a brief smile and a genuine thanks, because customer service is a goddamn nightmare. But even your patience is wearing thin by now.

Your surprise photographer fumbles his phone with a quiet ‘shit’ as half the occupants of the Starbucks turn to look at him, yourself included. The other half are either too busy working or still zombified, awaiting the sweet and terrible awakening of caffeine.

This makes the third time this week this guy has fucked up trying to take your photo.

Casually, you stroll over to the guy, swinging one arm around their shoulders. If it had been the first time, you would’ve just made eye contact and maybe sipped your drink if it wasn’t the temperature of the sun. Second time, probably would’ve glared and had a shadow trip him. But it’s the third, so the quiet parts need to be said out loud.

“Heya buddy.” You say cheerily, voice just slightly too loud for the general clientele. With your hair tucked up in your hat and the coat you’ve chosen today, you look like a guy who’s just met up with a coworker he may or may not despise. “Wonderful weather, isn’t it? Come on, I know you love the snow.”

You steer the bewildered new victim out of the Starbucks, to the absolutely frigid outdoor seating area that the awning has not protected from the last hour’s worth of snow. You’re well insulated and have a hot drink. Your conversational partner hunches their shoulders.

“Have a seat.” You say, less congenially.

You know this type of person. Not-quite-tall, bundled in several sweaters, tan overcoat and a chronic inability to make eye contact. Actually, that describes several types of people. Categories suck.

You disregard the thought and take your own seat without bothering to wipe off the snow.

“Hey, look, it was an accident-“ they start, complete with the nervous chuckling undertone and apologetic hand gestures. “- I was trying to send my girlfriend a meme and hit the live camera instead, fingers are still cold-“

“Oh I’m not offended.” You answer casually. “I just thought I’d spare you the trouble. You remembered to keep it muted this time, at least.”

Last time, it had been the sound cue that had made him impossible to ignore. Particularly given you’d been idling through an art gallery at the time, in an area where pictures were forbidden. Security had escorted him out shortly after, which at least had meant he wasn’t your problem.

He starts to laugh again, the nervous edge sharper now, and you risk enough to have the shadows of his chair pull it out for him. The screech of metal on icy concrete is awful. The rapid realization that he can’t get out of this is satisfying.

Slowly, he sits.

“What’s your name?” You ask, casually folding one leg over the other. There’s barely enough room beneath the table to do that. The metal edge is now seeping cold into your leg.

“That’s not important.”

“Okay.” You don’t care anyway, honestly. “I’m going to call you Sam then. Who hired you, Sam?”

He folds his hands together, leaning forward on the table. That’s got to be frigid, man’s not even wearing gloves. “I’m not at liberty to discuss that.”

You raise your eyebrows and take a sip of your drink. So warm. So sweet.

“Was it Kevin’s wife?” You’re not sure you’ve hurt anyone named Kevin recently, but this guy probably doesn’t know either. “Or widow, I should say. I don’t regret it. I’m not paying her. And she probably won’t pay you.”

You swirl your drink idly, watching him as you continue, “Hm, or is this more personal? Do you have a vendetta, Sam?”

Wide-eyed, ‘Sam’ shakes his head. “What? No.”

“Damn.” You sip your drink again. “It’s been awhile since I’ve had someone declare a vendetta.”

Sam regards you quizzically, and you can see the moment it occurs to him that you might tell him something he could actually use. It’s like a tiny light flicking on, way in the back room of a big box store.

“When was the last one?” He asks, turning his face to not be looking at you dead on, tone more coaxing. Is this supposed to be good? Is he bad at this or are your standards obscene?

“Well, it probably had something to do with that river incident.” You drawl, just wholesale making shit up now. You fully intend to claim you’ve hidden Hoffa’s body in the Hoover Dam if given half a chance. “But everyone’s heard enough about that. And you still haven’t said why you’re following me, ‘Sam.’”

“Are you someone worth following?” ‘Sam’ inquires, as though he hasn’t already tacitly admitted to being paid to follow you. You can see the twitch of his lips as he tries not to mouth ‘river incident?’ to himself.

You shrug, “Ask the Umbral Legion, or whatever they’re calling themselves these days.”

(That part, unfortunately, is true - you’ve done absolutely everything you can to avoid interacting with them or feeding into it, but some people are just cultists looking for a god. The only reason you haven’t been violent against them is because that might actually make the problem worse.)

Sam looks at you directly, an eyebrow raised, “So you are Synovus.”

Disappointment washes its way across your face. You don’t even bother looking to see if anyone heard. You do, however, glance at ‘Sam’s shoes.

“Washed out of the CIA, huh?” You ask darkly.

“I’m flattered you think I got that far.”

“I’m sure.” You take several swallows of your drink, not sipping conversationally but A) trying to drink it before it gets somehow ruined and B) figuring out where you actually want this conversation to go.

Because while Sam is terrible at his job - you considered the possibility this was a front, that he’d been trying to score a meeting with you, drawing your attention slowly, but the man was no Columbo - you don’t like killing investigative journalists. They tended to flock to their fellows’ corpses like hornets, and considered being targeted for their work the highest award possible.

(Did hornets even do that? You’d have to look it up later.)

You could just keep fucking with him, but he wasn’t even fun to banter with. Zero supervillain potential here.

“Okay.” You sigh, lowering your drink again. “You get five questions.”

‘Sam’ raised an eyebrow, “And then you, what, eat me?”

“And then I leave, and the next time I see you following me ineptly, then I eat you.” You said pleasantly. “Four questions left.”

‘Sam’ winces, his gaze darting around you. “Why aren’t you worried I’ll reveal your identity?”

You sigh, swirl what’s left of your drink, and study the name written on the cup. “Go on.” You say, dispassionately. “Tell the world my real name is ‘Aragorn.’ Maybe google it first.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s a kind of answer.” You correct, smiling tightly. If he has more than two braincells, he’ll realize you’re implying everything he knows about you is false. “Three.”

Your interviewer rolls his lips, jiggles one leg. Stops, when it shakes the table. “Why take the time to talk to me at all?”

This is a straighter shot, so you give it a straighter answer: “Bored.”

You can see he thinks that’s all he’s going to get, so you add, “I want you to know that you had an opportunity most of your colleagues would kill for, and you wasted it, because no matter what you think to ask me next, it will be nothing compared to what you’ll think of later while trying to sleep.”

“And that makes you happy.” ‘Sam’ deadpans.

You wink - but you don’t count it as a question. “Two.”

Here, you think, is the question he’ll really want answered. Leaving the big question for last means he wouldn’t have a follow-up, a way to try and trap you into information. Or maybe this will be one meant to try and unbalance you? The previous set meant to highlight his uncertainty, shots in the dark -

“Who was Loralai Weber to you?”

You seriously reconsider your policy about investigative journalists.

You may wear a helmet as much possible, but you’ve been in this game a long time, and you weren’t always allowed to cover your face. So you don’t flinch. You don’t reach for your cup to cover your mouth. You don’t do anything other than tilt your head.

And ‘Sam’ flinches.

Right, your eyes. Can’t do anything about that. Better to roll with it.

“A dead girl.” You say coldly. “Used as a prop by a rival. One.”

‘Sam’ is panicking, you can see that. Frankly, you’re a little alarmed too, that he even dug far enough to find the name Loralai Weber. You didn’t mean to imply that you’d killed her somehow, but - well, probably better that way. You do have a reputation to keep up.

You can curse your own missteps later. For now, as you start to rise, taking time to make sure all of your clothing is in order, ‘Sam’ blurts, “What happened to Athena and Legionnaire?”

You pause, standing at the table side, and smile at him. “Oh, that’s an easy one.” You drawl. “I killed them. And little Mercury too.”

‘Sam’s face turns ashen. A true believer, then? There’s no way he couldn’t have known you’d killed plenty of people, but maybe he just wasn’t expecting you to be so open about it. Ah, well, at least you can tell Minerva that people really did like her work.

“Why?” ‘Sam’ whispers, even though he has no questions left. And because you are a bewildering, benevolent creature, you give him an answer.

Leaning in, you pat him on the cheek. “Bored.”

A private investigator, was hired to spy on you. You know this because he is comically bad at his job.

[charlies-letters]

November 8, 1991

Dear friend, Bill gave me my first Bin advanced English class for my paper on Peter Pan! To tell you the truth, I don’t know what I did differently from the other papers. He told me that my sense of language is improving along with my sentence structure. I think it’s great that I could be improving on these things without noticing. By the way, Bill gives me A’s on my report cards and letters to my parents. The grades on these papers are just between us. I have decided that maybe I want to write when I grow up. I just don’t know what I would write.

I thought about maybe writing for magazines just so I could see an article that didn’t say things like I mentioned before. “As she wiped the honey mustard off of her lips, she spoke to me about her third husband and the healing power of crystals.” But honestly, I think I would be a very bad reporter because I can’t imagine sitting across the table from a politician or a movie star and asking them questions. I think I would probably just ask for their autograph for my mom or something. I would probably get fired for doing this. So, I thought about maybe writing for a newspaper instead because I could ask regular people questions, but my sister says that newspapers always lie. I do not know if this is true, so I’ll just have to see when I get older.

I did start working for a fanzine called Punk Rocky. It’s this xerox magazine about punk rock and The Rocky Horror Picture Show. I don’t write for it, but I help out.

Mary Elizabeth is in charge of it, just like she is in charge of the local Rocky Horror Picture Showshowings. Mary Elizabeth is a very interesting person because she has a tattoo that symbolizes Buddhism and a belly button ring and wears her hair to make somebody mad, but when she’s in charge of something, she acts like my dad when he comes home from a “long day.” She is a senior, and she says that my sister is a tease and a snob. I told her not to say anything like that about my sister again.

Of all the things I’ve done this year so far, I think I like The Rocky Horror Picture Show the best. Patrick and Sam took me to the theater to see it on Halloween night. It’s really fun because all these kids dress up like the people in the movie, and they act out the movie in front of the screen. Also, people shout at the movie on cue. I guess you probably know this already, but I thought I’d say it anyway in case you didn’t.

Patrick plays “Frank ’N Furter.” Sam plays “Janet.” It is very hard to watch the movie because Sam walks around in her underwear when she plays Janet. I am really trying not to think of her that way, which is becoming increasingly difficult.

To tell you the truth, I love Sam. It’s not a movie kind of love either. I just look at her sometimes, and I think she is the prettiest and nicest person in the whole world. She is also very smart and fun. I wrote her a poem after I saw her in The Rocky Horror Picture Show, but I didn’t show it to her because I was embarrassed. I would write it out for you, but I think that would be disrespectful to Sam.

The thing is that Sam is now going out with a boy named Craig. Craig is older than my brother. I think he may even be twenty-one because he drinks red wine. Craig plays “Rocky” in the show. Patrick says that Craig is “cut and hunky.” I do not know where Patrick finds his expressions.

But I guess that he’s right, Craig is cut and hunky. He is also a very creative person. He’s putting himself through the Art Institute here by being a male model for JCPenney catalogs and things like that. He likes to take photographs, and I’ve seen a few of them, and they are very good. There is this one photograph of Sam that is just beautiful. It would be impossible to describe how beautiful it is, but I’ll try.

If you listen to the song “Asleep,” and you think about those pretty weather days that make you remember things, and you think about the prettiest eyes you’ve known, and you cry, and the person holds you back, then I think you will see the photograph.

I want Sam to stop liking Craig. Now, I guess maybe you think that’s because I am jealous of him. I’m not. Honest. It’s just that Craig doesn’t really listen to her when she talks. I don’t mean that he’s a bad guy because he’s not. It’s just that he always looks distracted.

It’s like he would take a photograph of Sam, and the photograph would be beautiful. And he would think that the reason the photograph was beautiful was because of how he took it. If I took it, I would know that the only reason it’s beautiful is because of Sam.

I just think it’s bad when a boy looks at a girl and thinks that the way he sees the girl is better than the girl actually is. And I think it’s bad when the most honest way a boy can look at a girl is through a camera. It’s very hard for me to see Sam feel better about herself just because an older boy sees her that way.

I asked my sister about this, and she said that Sam has low self-esteem. My sister also said that Sam had a reputation when she was a sophomore. According to my sister, Sam used to be a “blow queen.” I hope you know what that means because I really can’t think about Sam and describe it to you.

I am really in love with Sam, and it hurts very much.

I did ask my sister about the boy at the dance. She wouldn’t talk about it until I promised that I wouldn’t tell anybody, not even Bill. So, I promised. She said that she has been seeing this boy secretly since Dad said she couldn’t. She says she thinks about him when he’s not there. She says they’re going to get married after they both finish college, and he finishes law school.

She told me not to worry because he hasn’t hit her since that night. And she said not to worry because he won’t hit her again. She really didn’t say any more other than that, although she kept talking.

It was nice sitting with my sister that night because she almost never likes to talk to me. I was surprised that she told me as much as she did, but I guess that since she’s keeping things secret, she can’t tell anybody. And I guess she was just dying to tell somebody.

But as much as she told me not to, I do worry a lot about her. She is my sister, after all. Love always, Charlie

[girldigital]

more on yankeeism

Here is a more concrete reason why New York is superior to London, even though my data is very limited: Dating.

Every single date I’ve had in New York has been sitcom-worthy. Sex and the City is truth!

Here’s a quick sample of my own experiences:

A – Lower East Side furniture designer. Tall Mexican cutie that looks like he took a page straight out of Fabrizio Moretti’s handbook: fluffy curly hair, motorcycle leather jacket, skinny-ish jeans, oxford boots (I think?). He also had lovely pouty lips to top off. He invited me to the New Museum. After our little tour, he brought me to the top floor, which was nothing but a balcony overlooking the city. We were the only ones there, standing on top of the world. I started filming, as I do, and he told me about this polaroid camera he had home and had never used. He suggested I take a picture of him to keep and that he does the same, like the good old days. This being music to my ears, we went to his, took photos, he showed me his VHS collection and brought me to an 80’s themed bar nearby. We then went back to his, had perfectly serviceable sex and got brought back to reality by my ringing phone after what was seemingly 3 missed calls. V was already at the venue of the event I had gotten tickets for: Kerri Chandler B2B Chez Damier at the Knockdown Center, no less. So, A and I got dressed and went on our way. I spent the night listening to some of the greatest house music, making out with my pretty boyfriend of the night, discussing leftism and immortalizing on tape one of my favorite house music events to date. At around 3, we left. There was a couple sitting in front of us on the train, embracing after what seemed to have been a long night as well. Perhaps out of envy, I proceeded to rest my head on my temp boyfriend as well, as his eyes were losing their fight against sleep. We got back to his and I slept like a star.

M - Lower East Side jewellery/clothing designer. Short-ish (sorry!), twitter crush. Jewish Italian, how New Yowrk! Also has big tousled hair and nice lips, maybe that’s the Manhattan look. We initially met in Montreal while he was touring with this DJ I’d been following for a while. Funny how I used to be a fan. He invited me to an event his friend was playing at Mi Sabor Cafe. I didn’t have american cash, nor Zelle, nor Cashapp, nor Venmo in order to get in (you’d think I’d be guestlist but whatever). This guy in line volunteers to pay for me, I thank him and go inside the venue. Shortly after, I join my boyfriend of the night and the guy who paid for my entry comes up to us. I thank him again, and he starts saying words of flattery to M, wearing merch the latter has designed. I can’t even begin to imagine how great M must’ve felt. A fan wearing his clothes, buying his pretty girl's entry. He’s winning across the board, and so am I in a way. I’m the trophy of the night. I see the DJ, he says nice to see me in a different city. We drink and dance and go back to his for the night, which despite clearly not being what I think he wanted, was fine by me. How could I forget to mention that calling him a minuteman would be complimentary; I honestly think it might be 30 seconds at best most times.

R – Originally from Los Angeles, this massive hunk was living in Williamsburg when we met. I’ve never met someone that fit more the description of a himbo, both inside and out. He had the deepest voice and the most limited vocabulary. Soho house member, “photographer” (if you can call barely pointing a camera at pretty girls that), podcaster and potential ex-sex addict. He was 6’3, had a buzzcut and was covered in American traditional tattoos. He, too, was Latino I think. We grabbed coffee and sat in this park - a quick Google search makes me believe it was McCarren park. I don’t remember much besides him calling me sexy every few minutes. As we were walking to his place, he was grabbing me tightly from under my shirt, complimenting my body and saying how It makes sense that I’m into action leading ladies as I look like one (slay). He was one of those men with a deeply carnivorous gaze, whose lust you could taste. Once we got to his very nice building, he took me to his rooftop. We started making out, and very quickly, I found myself on display in my underwear, in broad daylight, kissing this man like I wanted him. When he told me he couldn’t actually take me to his room, all I felt was relief. I was a bit bewildered as well, because how do you get me semi-naked after all these advances, knowing I’m leaving your city the day after, only to tell me “actually….. no sex”? As a guilt-riddled, potential lesbian though, that was great. I walked back to the Bed-Stuy place G had invited me to stay over at, with the best deal I could’ve hoped for: a sitcom-worthy date and no bad sex.

Meanwhile my dates in London have been:

Exchanged a few cocktails for head with this Australian guy that reminded me a lot of that one demon that was once in my life (except hotter, obviously). Good looks, and lots in common, just didn’t care. Attraction level -100. I was in bed next to him thinking about the message I’d send Big later that day.

Got drinks with this guy from Manchester. After a bit of uninteresting blabber, I told him I had to leave soon because of work, without realizing it was actually still quite early as we barely had been together for 2 hours. I felt bad when I realized, but also, my God does time go by slow when you’re spending it with someone you don’t have chemistry with. I stopped feeling guilty when I remembered just how much I would’ve rather have stayed in bed that evening. Didn’t have to pay back the cocktails with head this time though, so that was nice.

And that’s it. 3 months in and no sight of my one true love. Not even that, but not even an episode worthy date. Just…boring, uneventful heterosexuality. What a bore. I feel like I’m back in Canada. Anyway, I do know I’m supposed to be a lesbian, it’s just much harder to get a hold on girls… And I feel qualified to say this, as a hard to get a hold of girl myself. Then there’s the fact that I’m corresponding with Big also fucking up the entire system, but that’s besides the point. Or maybe that’s the whole point. Ah

[kores-pomegranate]

The last couple of days have been weird, not gonna lie.

I found out yesterday afternoon that a person I was very close friends with in college died from suicide over the weekend. He was the best man in my wedding. We hadn’t been that close in a long time—life takes people apart.

In November of 2022, his wife and infant son were killed in a car accident, and his other two sons were injured by alive. His middle son was touch and go and required extensive PT and OT for months after the crash.

I cannot begin to imagine the pain of those losses. I don’t want to try to imagine it.

Last November, this close friend group from college got together to be with him and his kids because we didn’t want him to be alone during such an awful time. It was a hard visit. He seemed…okay, I guess, in the way a person could be okay after something like that. He also seemed utterly empty. I think he died when his wife and baby died and I don’t think he came back. I do think he tried, and I think he wanted to be there for his kids.

I felt worried about him after seeing him and spending time with him. I messaged him saying that we should get together with our kids and try to reconnect in each other’s lives, and we tried to plan something but it fell away, and then the holidays happened. Every part of me knows that it wouldn’t have made a difference if I’d followed up with him. And still, I wish I had.

I slept not one single moment on Sunday night. For whatever reason, during my insomnia I was thinking about him and his wife. I had the thought that I should text him in the morning and get those plans solidified. It felt like such a random thought, because I truly can’t remember what made me think of him.

The way this grief has gripped me is overwhelming and surprising. I was once very close to this person. I convinced him to audition for a play with me my first semester of college because I didn’t want to go alone. The next year, we were cast as leads in the fall play. I joked with him a lot that he had me to thank for his blossoming theatre career.

We got married two weeks apart from one another, and our children were born less than three months apart. I spent every new year’s with him and our other friends for almost 10 years. It was a connection point for all of us that kept us coming back together long after we’d all graduated and moved away from one another. We only stopped when people started having multiple children and traveling got too complicated and expensive.

I thought about those new year’s trips a lot after his wife died. It made the memories feel surreal. I’m thinking about them again now, and it feels like putting multiple filters over the same photograph. So surreal it feels like a dream.

Even as I’m writing this, I’m realizing I ought to be less surprised by my grief. This person was an integral part of my life for a long time, and I guess that doesn’t go away when you fall out of touch.

I’ve never lost someone this close to me to suicide, I hope I never will again. Honestly, I’m not sure why I’m writing this right now, or what I’m hoping to get from it. I had a weird day where I saw a movie about a theological debate between Freud and CS Lewis about the existence of god, I renewed my library card and killed time by reading the graphic novelization of The Jungle by Upton Sinclair in its entirety (just some light reading to help me feel better, you know), then saw Poor Things which was utterly fantastic and also…left me with some deep questions.

Much like my memories of my friend, this day felt surreal. It felt like a dream, like I was only half in it. I think maybe it’s still a sense of shock, or maybe this is just what grief feels like.

I feel very, very sad. Heartbroken, and a little helpless. I’m not close to his family, I don’t know what I could even say or offer to them to help. I think for all of us, we will just have to wait for the grief to become easier to hold.

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

“Hey Stephanie” says a tall man, stepping out of the shadows where he’d been repairing my friend’s internet.

“Hey!” I say back, giving that smile I use when I don’t want someone to know I don’t know who the hell they are. Around here everyone knows me, but I never know them, so it happens a lot.

I’m not really in the mood for talking.

I’d hoped to rest my ankle foot/ after hard day yesterday, maybe just spend a little time with computer stuff and my foot up after I finished the chores. It hadn’t worked that way.

When I’d called Mom she’d been very poorly. The call was short, but long enough for my brother to tell me, or have me told, I needed to check the boat. I got the clear impression he didn’t believe I’d been in too much pain to walk down the hill to the river.

I’d left the call feeling very sad and anxious. My usual cure would be to walk in the woods, but I wasn’t up to it, particularly with the things I’d have to do later. Instead I foolishly went to pick grapes. Obsessive grape picking when I have a ton of grapes and I’m in pain wasn’t the best idea. I was stopped by the plastic bag I was using tearing open, which I guess I should be grateful.

I’d hobbled back, pausing to photograph mushrooms and share a few grapes with Ryoga (he eats the grape skins out of my fingers). I needed to stand there in the kitchen and sort the kinds of grapes apart, then set a pot ready to juice…

When I remember my friend expected me to go to her house with our strong magnet to hunt parts of her lawnmower that fell off. I send her a quick message and rush to the river to check the boat.

My chest aches every time I go there. It’s partially the anxiety, the fear of what disaster might have happened since last time, and partly grief as I remember my family and our old life. I have nightmares where the boat breaks lose and I have to try to save it single handed in a storm. It preys on my mind.

I walked down the hill, in as much pain as I expected. I still hadn’t rested my bad foot/ankle all day. It looked about the same, but I needed to go onto the boat itself to be sure. I scared a cotton mouth on the dry dock, and apologized to the snake. Good thing pain had me walking and climbing with great care.

I found myself on the boat chatting with some guys fishing from a boat nearby off the starboard side. The men can’t be locals because despite being older than me they assumed our boat was a herring boat. Their boat was more like what was used. But I was glad to explain about it. For all the worries it causes me, I do love the boat.

Finally I set out to go up the hill again. I paused though, finding a huge, spiked dog collar on the ground. Curiously it was in perfect shape, like it had been unbuckled. I also paused for more photos, of course, and that’s when I got a text from my friend. Something had come up with her husband, so I now needed to rush there before she had to go.

Rushing hurt. A lot. An awful lot. So much that instead of parking at Mom’s house in town and walking to the friend’s, I drove.

When I got there someone was in her house working on her internet. So I told her, fine, just point me towards where she lost it and I would find it if I could.

It really didn’t take long. For all the swinging the big magnet across the ground I ended up just finding the parts with my eyes.

Not long, but the pain was incredible.

The husband told me my friend wanted me to go inside because she wanted to give me something to thank me. I didn’t want her to give me something, but it could be something harmless like food so I didn’t want to risk offending her

Honestly, I REALLY just wanted to go take my damn ankle brace off.

But in I went.

My friend came from around the corner where she was talking to the repair guy. When she pulled out money I protested. I did NOT want to be paid! I was helping her because she needed help, it wasn’t any real trouble, and I hadn’t taken more than a few minutes. I felt kinda hurt she thought she should pay me, even if she has plenty of money.

Actually, it was upsetting me a lot.

She apologized it was only five dollars, and I wavered. That wasn’t much, and exactly what I’d needed for something I’d planned to stop at Dollar General for until I’d forgotten my purse. $5 is nothing to her, and she probably had had $5 of the gas I bought still in her mower when I returned it. Maybe I should take it…

And the man in the shadows spoke, and came into the light.

I was supposed to know him. I didn’t recognize him. He said “I thought I recognized that voice!” He told my friend we’d gone to school together, graduated together….

Now I was desperate, trying to fake my cluelessness, my brain trying to remember my classmates. There weren’t many of us in our K-12 school, especially by graduation with all the drop outs and movings. I know.

I never know. I’m awful at remembering flesh and blood people. Maybe it’s because I watch mouths when I talk to people or maybe because bullying made me shy of staring at people long of maybe it’s just I haven’t seen or thought about most of them since the day graduated.

Then he told me his name.

OMG

He was…

In sixth grade we’d been friendly, writing notes in code to each other. I still remember that PacMan hat he wore every day.

In sixth grade I’d had a terrible crush on him. I was head over heels for him. His hair was lighter blonde, but he was already tall and lean. I was a little girl that probably would have fallen for any boy that seemed half way smart and was nice to me, but he was cute.

In sixth grade I walked with two friends along the railroad tracks surrounded by the farm, and I’d gotten into typical girl talk with them. In the “which boys do you like” part I tried to refuse to say, but they persuaded me. I told them. They giggled.

In sixth grade I got to school on Monday morning and everyone knew. “Stephanie likes you!!” they taunted him. He stopped passing notes. He stopped looking at me. He stopped being my friend.

In sixth grade, that Monday morning, he stopped talking to me.

He never spoke directly to me again. Not in all the years we had classes together. Not even to graduation.

This, this right here, today, wasn’t just the first time we’d seen each other in the decades since we graduated, but the first time since sixth grade he’d spoken to me.

I was standing there with scraggly hair, baggy and stained old clothes, teetering on my bad foot/ankle, my jeans tucked into my socks, scratches bleeding on my arms.

He came over and hugged me. It’s what people do here. I know I smelled of grapes and sweat and rotting leaves. He smelled of the things normal people smell of, of soaps and scented things (the manly version…**)

He chatted on, listing named of folks from our school day, students and teachers, he’d run into. I was flailing about in my brain, trying to remember these people. I have forgotten most everyone, an easy task when between being an outcast and bullied there were few memories I really wanted to hold onto.

The churn of trying to remember, to keep up with what he was saying, kept getting flooded out with shame and shock. Shame at how I must seem, being paid off by a friend and looking like a bag lady. Shame at not recognizing him when he remembered me. Shock at…well, coming face to face with him.

I sounded like an idiot. I was lost in the words. I didn’t say any of the things I should have or asked any of the things I still wonder. I couldn’t think. My one chance to say something to him and I was just struggling to get my head around it being him.

My friend needed to go, but went out with me. We stood by the driveway, and she starts showing me damage to her car from stuff that fell off a truck onto it, and difficulties with the insurance company, and I make little grunts of listening and sympathy. I’m not listening. I’m thinking, “It’s him. It’s him. It’s him. It’s him.”

I tell her a version of all this, about my history with her repair guy. She points out he hugged me and teases that she doesn’t know if he’s married. I snort that they all are. They always are. Even the only guy who ever flirts with me is married. She laughs, but I don’t feel it.

“It’s him. It’s him. It’s him” echoes through my head.

And then I see him come around the end of the house to find her. He’d actually gone out the back to work on something while we were talking. Maybe he heard us. Maybe he heard me.

I’m pretty sure he heard me.

He doesn’t speak to me. He doesn’t look at me. I say goodbye to my friend and he keeps his back to me.

Funny how things never change.

**Look , I have NO idea what others use. I just use soap, shampoo, tooth paste, mouthwash, and, when I occasionally remember, a moisturizing lotion. And preferably the less smelly the better.

[inaworldlikethis52]

2023 survey lol.

1. How many bruises on you right now? None

2. You talked to an ex today, correct? No

3. Have you stayed in a hospital? Not over night

4. Is trust a big issue for you? Yes

5. Did you hang out with the person you like recently? I don’t think it counts

6. What are you excited for? To heal

7. What happened tonight? It’s not night yet

8. Do you think it’s disgusting when girls get really wasted? Yes, guys and girls

9. Is confidence cute? It can be

10. What is the last beverage you had? Tea

11. How many people of the opposite sex do you fully trust? Lol none.

12. Do you own a pair of skinny jeans? Yes

13. What are you gonna do Saturday night? Working, probably dinner with ex coworkers lol

14. What are you going to spend money on next? Soap lol

15. Are you going out with the last person you kissed? I was 😭

16. Do you think you’ll change in the next 3 months? Hopefully

17. Who do you feel most comfortable talking to about anything? Liz, but I’m not trying to talk to anyone anymore.

18. The last time you felt broken? Today

19. Have you had a soft drink today? no

20. Are you starting to realize anything? yes

21. Are you in a good mood? Nope

22. Would you ever want to swim with sharks? nope

23. Are your eyes the same color as your dad’s? i think his are a lil lighter

24. What do you want right this second? To make things right

25. What would you say if the person you love/like kissed another girl/boy? I’d be hurt

26. Is your current hair color your natural hair color? Yes

27. Would you be able to date someone who doesn’t make you laugh? Lol no?

28. What was the last thing that made you laugh? The challenge

29. Do you really, truly miss someone right now? yes.

30. Does everyone deserve a second chance? Not everyone but second changes should happen

31. Honestly, do you hate the last boy you were talking to? Not at all, I couldn’t.

32. Does the person you have feelings for right now, know you do? Yes.

33. Are you one of those people who never drinks water? No lol used to not drink water

34. Listening to? Nothing atm

35. Do you ever write in pencil anymore? Lol I don’t remember the last time I did

36. Do you know where the last person you kissed is? Home? Maybe work? Maybe being a hoe.

37. Do you believe in love at first sight? not sure

38. Who did you last call? Liz

39. Who was the last person you danced with? Selvon but maybe my Zumba fam.

40. Why did you kiss the last person you kissed? bc I’m weak and let it happen

41. When was the last time you ate a cupcake? Maybe my birthday?

42. Did you hug/kiss one of your parents today? no we don’t do that

43. Ever embarrass yourself in front of a crush? All the time

44. Do you tan? Are the beach lol

45. If you could, would you take back your last kiss? I wish it was with him when he was sober. But no.

46. Did you talk to someone until you fell asleep last night? No lol

47. Who was the last person to call you? Liz

48. Do you sing in the shower? Sometimes

49. Do you dance in the car? sometimes

50. Ever used a bow and arrow? Once at the fair

51. Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer? lol no idea

52. Do you think musicals are cheesy? sometimes, but they’re fun

53. Is Christmas stressful? As of late yes.

54. Ever eat a pierogi? Yeah

55. Favorite type of fruit pie? Apple or coconut custard but I don’t care for

56. Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid? Physical therapist or teacher

57. Do you believe in ghosts? yes

58. Ever have a Deja-vu feeling? Yes

59. Take a vitamin daily I try

60. Wear slippers? yes

61. Wear a bath robe? Sometimes

62. What do you wear to bed? Boxers and t shirt

63. First concert? maroon 5

64. Wal-Mart, Target or Kmart? Target

65. Nike or Adidas? Nike

66. Cheetos Or Fritos? Cheetos

67. Peanuts or Sunflower seeds? Lol neither

68. Favorite Taylor Swift song? Love story or idk she has jams

69. Ever take dance lessons? Eh not fully lol

70. Is there a profession you picture your future spouse doing? Lol nope

71. Can you curl your tongue? yes

72. Ever won a spelling bee? No

73. Have you ever cried because you were so happy? Yes

74. What is your favorite book? Not sure, I read a lot but not sure which one could be my fav

75. Do you study better with or without music? without. I need to focus. But if I’m doing homework I can listen to music

76. Regularly burn incense? nah

77. Ever been in love? I don’t think it was

78. Who would you like to see in concert? Celine Dion

79. What was the last concert you saw? Back street boys

80. Hot tea or cold tea? Both

81. Tea or coffee? Tea.

82. Favorite type of cookie? soft choc chip or oatmeal but not a fan of sweets

83. Can you swim well? not at all

84. Can you hold your breath without holding your nose? Yeah? But it’s hard

85. Are you patient? Nope. I need to work on that.

86. DJ or band, at a wedding? DJ

87. Ever won a contest? i won tickets to a meet and greet

88. Ever have plastic surgery? nah

89. Which are better black or green olives? black.

90. Opinions on marriage? It’s scary for me

91. Best room for a fireplace? living room

92. Do you want to get married? not sure