#New York City During the Pandemic

[reasonsforhope]

"According to National Coalition for the Homeless, 40% of the country’s homeless youth population is comprised of LGTBQ+ teens. 

When New York native Austin Rivers took up knitting during the COVID-19 pandemic, it was this staggering figure that drove him towards action. 

“I don’t have the capacity to build a shelter, the network or the connections to help in that way, but what I can do is knit,” Rivers told NBC News. 

“And I know that New York City is cold, so I decided I would start knitting and create this nonprofit.”

That’s when he founded Knit the Rainbow, an organization that distributes free handmade garments to those in need. 

And nearly five years after it was first created, Rivers’ knitting collective isn’t just serving the queer community in New York City.

Their nationwide network links local yarn stores and local nonprofits with over 550 volunteers from 45 states. 

As of 2024, they have collected and distributed over 25,000 winter garments — including sweaters, hats, gloves, scarves, and socks — throughout homeless communities in New Jersey, Chicago, Detroit, and beyond. 

Once clothing items are shipped to Rivers’ apartment, he works with volunteers to unpack boxes, tag and sort donations, and pack and deliver them to local shelters that provide housing to LGBTQ+ and HIV+ homeless youth. 

Although the organization’s impact is wider, and the piles of mail have grown higher, Rivers still has a hand in day-to-day deliveries. 

“We’re going to do it whether it’s rain, or snow, or shine,” Rivers said in his NBC News interview, pulling a handcart topped with boxes. 

Those clothes could be the difference between frostbite and hospitalization, especially in cities that often drop below freezing in the wintertime. 

But Rivers also noted that every handmade item — knitted, crocheted, or stitched — has a dual impact, because every piece of clothing is made with love. 

“A lot of the times, the reason that they’re unhoused is because they were kicked out by their families,” Rivers said. 

“We’re not just providing warmth, but we’re also providing that love and that compassion that they so often don’t have.” 

To the members of the community Knit The Rainbow served, he had a clear message.

“There are thousands of people out here that are constantly thinking of you and using their hands to make things for you,” Rivers emphasized. “So don’t give up. Keep going.”

To download free knitting [and crochet] patterns, donate a garment, or sign up to volunteer, you can visit the organization's website to get started." 

‍-via GoodGoodGood, December 23, 2024

[igotfatter]

Sorry to hear that your ex was so rude to you. But I have to admit, hearing about how in denial he was about his weight sounds super sexy. Do you know how heavy he got in the end? How did his weight effect the things you could/couldn’t do on a day to day basis?

The last I know his heaviest was 530 pounds. At 6’4”, he carried it relatively well, but it still impacted daily life. During the pandemic we lived full-time together and after I would spend two weeks in New York City, and two weeks with him At our place outside the city. When he visited me in New York, he went from being able to walk down the block with me to getting completely winded just reaching the street. He was in denial, blaming my fast walking, but even in the low 400s, he could outpace me. (Hot story about this) By the end, he barely left the house except for work and almost outgrew his car, exactly like Rasputia in Norbit blaming the weather one time. Physical intimacy became nonexistent, and he started needing extra help at work after breaking chairs. He outgrew our furniture and couldn’t manage hygiene or clean up after himself, often leaving plates and wrappers around. It was hard to watch him struggle, especially since he refused to acknowledge how much his weight was affecting him.

We traveled a lot and of course he could only travel if I was next to him, we would get business class or first class seats on long-haul flights and he wouldn’t be able to do the tray table and I would have to hold both of our plates of food on the plane. I’m sure there’s more. I know he couldn’t use the plane bathroom and had to pee in the sink. at a relatives house he physically was too big to use the toilet so I would have to like assist him in going pee in secret. this might be TMI for tumblr but when he would pee towards the end the floor would have a mess (he sat to pee) and  he physically like could not find his junk to pee in the right spot. But all of this was complete denial. I don’t know how else to explain it but I just never understood how people got to 800 pounds without wanting to be 800 pounds until I met him.

(He’s around mid to low 400’s here)

[afeelgoodblog]

The Best News of Last Week - November 28, 2023

🐑 - Why did Fiona the sheep become a mountaineer? She was tired of the "baa-d" jokes at sea level!

1. Pope Francis dines with transgender women for Vatican luncheon

Pope Francis hosted a group of transgender women — many of whom are sex workers or migrants from Latin America — to a Vatican luncheon for the Catholic Church's "World Day of the Poor" last week.

The pontiff and the transgender women have formed a close relationship since the pope came to their aid during the COVID-19 pandemic, when they were unable to work. Now, they meet monthly for VIP visits with the pope and receive medicine, money and shampoo any day, according to The Associated Press.

2. New York just installed its first offshore wind turbine

The first wind turbine installation at South Fork Wind, New York State’s first offshore wind farm, is complete.

The 130-megawatt (MW) South Fork Wind will be the US’s first completed utility-scale wind farm in federal waters.

3. Anonymous businessman donates $800k to struggling food bank

But this Thanksgiving, a longtime prayer of food bank leaders was finally answered: an anonymous benefactor donated the full $800,000 they needed to move out of a facility they've long outgrown. That benefactor, however, preferred to stay anonymous.

"Very private company, really don't want attention," said Debbie Christian, executive director of the Auburn Food Bank. "It's a goodhearted person that just wants to see the work here continue, wants to see it expand."

4. Empowering woman saving hopes and mental health of suffering Ukrainian kids

Kenza Hadij-Brahim is at the forefront of promoting Circle of Toys

Hadj-Brahim is helping to launch the Circle of Toys initiative. A project that provides Ukrainian children in need of some normality with preloved toys. This new initiative connects people with old toys they might otherwise throw away, with Ukrainian families in need who want to provide some comfort to their children in this distressing time.

Find Refuge said : “The endeavour is driven by a sincere purpose: spark joy, foster play, and bring a hint of normalcy back to the young lives in Ukraine.”

5. TWO LOST CITIES HIDDEN FOR CENTURIES WERE JUST DISCOVERED IN BOLIVIA

Researchers have found these areas not only housed structures and pyramids but it has been uncovered that there were advanced irrigation systems, earthworks, large towns, causeways, and canals that cover miles.

Dr. Heiko Prümers from the German Archaeological Institute, who was also involved in the study comments that “this indicated a relatively dense settlement in pre-Hispanic times. Our goal was to conduct basic research and trace the settlements and life there. The research sheds light on the sheer magnitude and magnificence of the civic-ceremonial centers found buried in the forest”.

6. Sheep dubbed Fiona rescued from cliff in Scotland where she was stuck for more than 2 years

And at last, some positive climate news:

7. Three positive climate developments

Heating

When the Paris Agreement was adopted, the global reliance on fossil fuels placed the world on a path towards a 3.5C rise in temperature by 2100. Eight years on, country commitments to reduce their carbon footprints have pulled that down slightly, putting the world on a path for a 2.5C to 2.9C by the end of the century.

Peak emissions

Annual greenhouse gas emissions responsible for climate change have risen roughly nine percent since COP21, according to UN data. But the rate of the increase has slowed significantly. Recent estimates by the Climate Analytics institute find global emissions could peak by 2024

Rising renewables

Three technologies—solar, wind and electric vehicles—are largely behind the improved global warming estimates since 2015.

---

That's it for this week :)

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Buy me a coffee ❤️

Also don’t forget to reblog this post with your friends.

[realcleverscience]

More evidence that republican reagonimics is literally killing us.

highlights:

In 2021, 1.1 million deaths would have been averted in the United States if the US had mortality rates similar to other wealthy nations,..

"Think of people you know who have passed away before reaching age 65. Statistically, half of them would still be alive if the US had the mortality rates of our peers. The US is experiencing a crisis of early death that is unique among wealthy nations."...

The US had lower mortality rates than peer countries during World War II and its aftermath. During the 1960's and 1970's, the US had mortality rates similar to other wealthy nations, but the number of Missing Americans began to increase year by year starting in the 1980's, reaching 622,534 annual excess US deaths by 2019. Deaths then spiked to 1,009,467 in 2020 and 1,090,103 in 2021 during the pandemic. From 1980 to 2021, there were a total of 13.1 million Missing Americans.

The researchers emphasize that this mortality crisis is a multiracial phenomenon and is not specific to minoritized groups. Black and Native Americans are overrepresented in these measures... Still, two-thirds of the Missing Americans are White, a result of the larger population of White Americans, their older age distribution, and death rates that are significantly higher than other wealthy nations...

They connect the large excess mortality burden to the failure of US policy to adequately address major public health issues, including the opioid epidemic, gun violence, environmental pollution, economic inequality, food insecurity, and workplace safety. The COVID-19 pandemic exacerbated many of these issues, particularly among lower-income and minority groups, and now that most of the safety-net policies created during COVID-19 have expired, vulnerable groups have lost vital support.

"We waste hundreds of billions each year on health insurers' profits and paperwork, while tens of millions can't afford medical care, healthy food, or a decent place to live," says study senior author Dr. Steffie Woolhandler, Distinguished Professor at the School of Urban Public Health at Hunter College, City University of New York. "Americans die younger than their counterparts elsewhere because when corporate profits conflict with health, our politicians side with the corporations."...

[grubloved]

i really genuinely think this. lots of people eat rats. they apparently taste quite good. everybody whos not keeping kosher in new york go eat rats. develop a new cuisine. recycle those 500000 million pounds of food waste into more food. lets get funky

i think that new yorkers should simply start eating the rats

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved in our archive

D.W. McLachlan responds to the recent discourse around COVID safety at meetings by comparing risk probabilities. Ultimately, it’s unclear what advantage we gain by refusing to protect each other from COVID, which poses an existential threat to any organizing effort.

A recent tweet by @timerube of New York City DSA (Democratic Socialists of America, a big-tent socialist organization in the United States, the largest of its kind) has prompted outrage and division among the so-called left along lines of COVID mitigation.

This letter is not about litigating who is and isn’t a proper socialist based on their use of personal protective equipment. I don’t care what you call yourself or other people. This is a letter about how you need to account for reality in your organizing or you won’t be effective in reality. If you want to normalize COVID, you need to account for the effects of that decision and mitigate the risks it poses.

Let’s describe the landscape of risks that is likely to be familiar to many readers. Imagine that you work at a grocery store and want to secure anti-fatigue mats at workstations. Eventually, you will likely need to meet with your coworkers to decide the steps you’ll take to pressure management to meet your demands. Most of these co-workers will need transportation to make it to the meeting. Transportation involves risk. If you held 10,000 of these meetings over time in the United States, there’s a good chance that there would be a fatality due to a car accident on the way to one or two of those meetings (based on average US traffic fatality rates of 13.8 per 100 000 people). As anyone who has had to work long hours on hard, cold floors can attest, you’re much more likely to face consequences from the working conditions in this example than you are from traffic accidents. So, is it worth the risk? We can make the choice even clearer by encouraging remote meeting and transportation by even safer means like bus or train. 10,000 meetings is about 10 years of weekly meetings. At the end of this simple calculation, it makes sense to meet since meeting is likely the only path to victory and won’t expose participants to very much risk. This is not an endorsement of the rates of traffic accidents. The fact that we need to bear this risk in order to organize is itself a loss, but we did fight for decades to mitigate this risk so it doesn’t immediately threaten our movements on its own.

Of course, the biggest risk of meeting with your coworkers (in person with no mitigations) during the ongoing COVID–19 pandemic is not dying in a traffic accident, not by a long shot. COVID will impact your organizing ability if you don’t mitigate the risk. Using the same example, let’s imagine that you get 300 of your grocery store coworkers (you work in a chain of grocery stores) together for a meeting in person with no COVID mitigations. This meeting takes place in an NYC church on November 11, 2024. According to our best modeling, 1 in 113 people in NYC were likely infectious on November 11th. So you almost certainly have at least two contagious co-workers in the meeting. They will likely infect 10–25 people at your meeting (Omicron has an R0 of 10-25, so each person infects 10 to 25 other people over the course of their infection. This information is discussed in the post-script). At Dynamic Zero, we’re using an average Long COVID per infection rate of 20% and the reasoning is discussed at length in the Summer 2024 Seasonal Update. Imagining that the chain of infection ends there, with a 20% rate of Long COVID resulting from these infections, your meeting will permanently harm 2–5 of your activists. The disability resulting from that harm may not be total (for example, losing one’s sense of smell can be devastating but it’s unlikely to prevent labor action), but the effect is cumulative. This will happen every meeting. This is beyond the impact of the acute phase of the disease itself, which lasts 10-14 days on average. The equivalent to the disability risk in our original example would mean a rate of being disabled by a vehicle accident of 8,333 per 100,000, which is 603 times higher than what our society bears as “acceptable risk” for traffic fatalities.

This will not be your only meeting, of course, and the risk doesn’t stop after the first meeting. The fight for any improvement in working conditions usually takes months or years, as any experienced activist will tell you. 5 out of 300 is 1.6%. How many meetings can you host like this before your entire body of 300 coworkers has been maimed by COVID infections? Approximately 62 meetings. As an activist for climate justice prior to 2020, I personally attended 4–6 meetings a week. Each meeting also means that 8.3% of your labor pool for actions will be sick for up to two weeks. At best, they will make mistakes and need more rest. It’s likely that they will need material support and community care, which is a wonderful product of our activism but it takes more effort away from actions that work toward our demands. If we don’t want to mitigate the effects of this risk, we need to account for it and describe a plan to win even with such high rates of attrition. I personally don’t believe it’s possible to attrite a significant portion of your organizers each meeting and win, that seems like a dead end.

This is all beyond considering the frankly ghoulish opposite side of the equation. We grudgingly risk traffic accidents so we can organize for a better world. What do we get for risking COVID infections? We refuse to wear masks so we can feel normal? We refuse to clean the air so we don’t have to think about how the authorities are lying to us? Or about how each of us is vulnerable to Long COVID? Is it the snacks? I can’t really imagine what’s on the other side of the equation for the COVID denialists that makes it worth it to refuse to mitigate the risk so fervently.

Several people discussing the original tweet have called people asking for mitigations of this risk (which means filtering the air, getting vaccinated regularly, and wearing respirators indoors) “COVID Dead-enders”. This is a very obvious projection. The (extremely optimistic, since it assumes no other community spread and only one meeting per week) alternative to mitigation is to maim a group of 300 activists every year or two just with meetings. How many groups of 300 activists have you got?

My argument is that our bourgeois civil leadership has decided that it’s normal to make every public space invisibly hazardous by systematically promoting COVID reinfection and removing the tools people need to inform and protect themselves from the threat. This is a form of social control since it makes resistance without COVID mitigation hazardous. Your meeting itself is a source of harm and attrition if you don’t mask and clean the air. Who’s working for the feds here?

D.W. McLachlan

Post-script: On R0, Rt, Variants, Immunity, and Bullshit Regarding the ability to model and predict how many people will be infected in a given meeting, it’s important to note that the quality of this data is not very good and the situation is certainly worse than it appears because of the Biden administration’s widespread suppression of testing and data collection. However, if we accept official figures, the 2–3 people with COVID at your 300-person meeting certainly have a subvariant of Omicron. Data on Long COVID rates are impacted by the same suppression as testing and reporting, but the math is easy to adapt.

R0 and Rt are statistical figures that represent how contagious a particular disease is. R0 is also called the "basic reproduction number." Rt is the "effective reproduction number," which accounts for immunity in the population from vaccination and prior infection. An R0 of 2 means that each person first infected with a disease will spread it to two others.

I use the R0 of Omicron in the article for several reasons:

First, it’s unclear how the situation has changed due to the suppression of testing and reporting noted above. Wastewater data is notoriously inappropriate for comparing between different waves of COVID infection because of the nature of “normalization target, qPCR chemistry, and watershed scale”. We don’t have a collection method and context that can produce a reliable updated R0 or Rt number for a given variant that accurately determines an individual’s risk and how that has changed since Omicron.

Second, just because public health officials have abandoned the precautionary principle doesn’t mean we should too. Our leaders all over the imperial core have abandoned many aspects of prosocial thinking and policy to protect profits. I am not motivated to discipline myself by the malice of my enemies. The traffic accident analogy is still apt. I don’t know how likely it is to save someone when I prioritize distributing bus tickets at a meeting. I just know that if I didn’t, and someone was hurt, I would forever question whether I could have prevented their suffering with a simple bus ticket. The respirator is analogous to the bus ticket for handling the risk of infecting your comrades with COVID.

Third, it doesn’t actually matter. I don’t need to know the exact number against which I weigh your life before I act to protect you. We need each other and I don’t want you to get hurt.

[silverpetrichor]

My Love Is Mine All Mine

A/N: I know I’ve been MIA but the mania surrounding Gravity Falls right now has awoken me from my slumber. I’ve had a huge crush on Ford since I got into the series during the pandemic and I just had to write this.(I've also never written smut before so please forgive me if it's cringe.) I’ve never written him before, so forgive me if he’s a little (or a lot) OOC. As always constructive criticism is welcome and please enjoy! 

Last Summer. . .

You were helping your brother cook dinner for his heavily pregnant wife and 2 kids. Laughing and joking as your younger brother arrived with his husband, wine and dessert. It was shaping up to be another ordinary evening hanging out with your family when you got the call. 

Next thing you know you’re hugging your loved ones goodbye before opening a portal to the outskirts of Gravity Falls, Oregon. Staring up at the darkness enveloping the town that you’d only heard of in passing, watching on in horror before assisting the others in reinforcing the natural barriers around the town to keep it from spreading…  

“—Y/n! Earth to Y/n! Are you okay?” Your coworker asked as you looked up from where you had zoned out while shelving the new books.  

“Yeah? I um, I’m fine really. Just lost in thought for a second.” you respond. 

“Oh, okay. Well, I was just trying to tell you that it’s lunch time,” Tracy said, smiling up at you. 

You tilted your head to the side, brows furrowing “Geez, already?” you looked at your watch, and low and behold it was noon already.  

You cast one more glance to the book still in your hand, a post apocalyptic romance who’s cover had evoked memories of the centralized apocalypse that had taken place last summer in the seemingly innocuous town. You recall arguing with the council about actually getting involved and helping the town instead of just doing damage control. You didn’t like the stances they often took, and were preparing to go in despite their decision when all of a sudden the oppressive feeling of Bill’s presence vanished and with it your need to be there, standing sentry. 

Or, so you thought. Now, you have moved from the hustle and bustle of New York City to the quiet and peculiar little town of Gravity Falls. All because you dared to go against the council and nearly disobeyed them, you were now stuck as a librarian here indefinitely. Merely monitoring the situation and living in a cottage not too far from the Mystery Shack, hidden by magic and finally inhabited again after decades of going unused after the last council assigned witch moved.

You shook your head as if shaking off your thoughts, shelving the book in your hand and heading to the breakroom in the back where your homemade lunch sat in the fridge. 

You ate your lunch with Tracy in relative silence letting her do most of the talking. She was a sweet woman who was a few years older than you, in her early forties married with three rambunctious kids. She was also very talkative, which you didn’t mind despite being more introverted yourself. 

You never liked the quiet anyway, ironically enough even though you had moved out to a cottage in the woods, you always had music or something playing. You’d even gotten a fluffy pet cat a week before who moved out here who you dubbed Lady Arson the III. 

You’d actually grown fond of this little town despite being a city girl, this town had its own unique charm. Even though you had to chase some gnomes out and renew the old wards on the old cottage. (Thank the stars you had a magical ingredients supplier for the unicorn hair you needed. Unicorns are such stuck up assholes and if you never had to interact with one again it’d be too soon) You had redecorated the cottage and made it your own. You also found a nearby lake to go swimming in relative peace during the spring and summer.  

You talked for a while with Tracy as you found yourself having a bit of fun. While you missed the city there were plenty of things and people that made it worth it. Like your crush on your friend Ford Pines. . . 

He came to the library every other day or so in the afternoon sitting in the back alcove reading and writing in a journal with weathered pages. You’d actually managed to strike up a rapport with the man instead of hopelessly pining after him in silence. (Which you still did but you felt less pathetic when your hands would wander late at night when you couldn’t sleep)  

And, speaking of the devil, Ford was present with his teenage niece and nephew Mabel and Dipper. You found them in the back of the library searching the shelves for a book as you came around the corner to reshelve the last of the book on your cart. 

“Good afternoon Y/n!” Mabel excitedly stated, having noticed you first as her brother and grunkle were absorbed in searching the shelves. 

“Afternoon Pines family, what trouble have you gotten into today?” You greeted and asked, taking in their disheveled appearances as you raised a brow. 

“We were exercising a category five ghost in the woods near Fiddleford’s mansion when we encountered a hostile gremloblin!” Mable replied as her and Dipper shuddered in unison. 

You scanned them for injuries upon hearing this, before asking if they were okay. They nodded their assent before Mabel leaned in and whispered “But I’m pretty sure Grunkle Ford has a concussion or something.” 

Your eyebrows raise as you release your hold on the cart you’d been pushing. You tap Ford’s shoulder and he turns around, rather quickly almost stumbling. As he does you notice the gash on his forehead covered in Hello Kitty bandaids, that are clearly Mable’s work. But despite that you still see some red on the gauze the two bandaids are holding down. 

“Hello, beaut—I mean Y/n!” clears throat, while rubbing his head with his free hand, “How are you doing today?” Ford asks awkwardly, blushing. 

“Certainly better than you, you’re bleeding! Come with me.” You say, grabbing Ford’s hand after seeing the slightly dazed and unfocused look in his eyes and the bloody gauze on his hand. 

You pull him to the breakroom, the twins following. Ford huffing and blushing even harder at you holding his hand. You sit him at the table as the twins walk over to the vending machine drawn to the candy and chips in it respectively. 

You wash your hands quickly before going to bend and look under the sink and after a minute or two of rummaging around, pull out the new first aid kit that you’d brought to replace the old barely full one. Ford’s head tilts and his eyebrows raise as he mentally thanks the infinite cosmos for pencil skirts and the fact that you seem to love to wear them. 

When you stand straight he guiltily turns his head to the side, finding interest in the fake foliage and book themed posters hanging about. You raise a brow at his odd behavior, chalking it up to his concussion and head over after smoothing out your black pencil skirt. You walk over, heels clicking on the linoleum floor as you take off your colorful blazer before rolling up your white blouse sleeves.  

You open up the first aid kit with practiced efficiency after laying out a piece of paper towel from the roll in the middle of the table. You sanitize your hands quickly with an alcohol wipe before you gently pull the Hello Kitty bandages and gauze off his forehead. Apologizing quietly as Ford winces still, you move to grab the alcohol. You end up muttering another apology as he winces whilst you dab at the slightly deep cut with a soaked cotton ball.  

Ford’s face stays flushed as he realizes how close your chest is to his face. Trying his best to not make it obvious that he’s staring at you in that way. His eyes flicker to your face, focusing on how cute you look with your face scrunched up in concentration as you gently dab.   

While Ford struggles to be covert about his feelings you seem to be fairing slightly better with a barely there flush to your face. You place butterfly bandages on his forehead after dropping the alcohol soaked cotton ball onto the paper towel. 

You then gently grab his hand before unraveling the gauze, and dabbing at the cut with another alcohol soaked cotton ball. 

Mabel looks over, noticing the look in each other's eyes and Ford’s blushing face. A smirk falling over her face as she realizes what is happening, nodding to herself.

“Matchmaking time!” she whispers under breath before choking on a gummy kola. 

Dipper rolls his eyes as he slaps her back, the gummy kola flying out her mouth. Of which, she promptly picks up off the floor and eats much to Dipper's disgust. 

“So…Y/n huh? Do you. . .like her?” Mabel asks Ford as they leave the library, raising her eyebrows and smirking. 

Ford chuckles nervously, blushing furiously “What? I, I uh. . I have no idea what you’re talking about!!” He says, eyes shifting about nervously. 

“ Oh my gosh! Yes you do!! You love her! Love, love, love her!!” Mabel yelled, jumping up and down around him as the trio walked back to the Mystery Shack.   

“And I thought I sucked at hiding my feelings.” Dipper nudged Ford, laughing. 

Ford sighed, scratching the back of his neck as he nodded in defeat before telling Mabel to quiet herself despite no one being near. 

“Yes, I am very fond of Y/n. I find her to be endearing and enchanting in everything she does,” Ford muttered as he nervously laughed. 

“Well then Grunkle Ford, you should ask her out!! All the other blind dates I've tried to set her up on went nowhere!!” Mabel said as she skipped backwards in front of him and Dipper.  

“I don't know, I mean, aren't I too old for her? And I haven't really had any sort of  relationship in a while.” Ford muttered as the Mystery Shack came into view.  

“Trust me, Grunkle Ford! You got this! She's into nerd stuff like DD&MD! She's a librarian and she’s a historian!! And she likes listening to you rant about your research! Plus she's beautiful! It doesn't get any better than her!!” Mabel yelled as they sat on the couch outside the shack. 

“Yeah, in fact I know just what I need to do!!” Ford declared as he grabbed a graph journal full of blueprints for inventions out of one of his trenchcoat inner pockets.  

****** 

“This was a terrible idea,” Ford whispered as he hid from Flirt B0t 3000.  

“Wow, really who would've thought a robot built for romance would've been a terrible idea? Let's see, uh everyone!” Dipper harshly whispered back. 

“This is Giffany all over again,” Mabel sighs as she hands Ford her compact so he can check around the corner for Flirt B0t 3000. 

As he did so, the robot's half melted face snapped in their direction, its intact eye rolling to look at him through the mirror. 

“When I say run, you run as far and fast as your legs can take you and don’t look back,” Ford harshly whispers, tightening his grip on his gun. 

“But Grunkle Ford!! We can help!” Dipper responds as he clutches a crossbow in his hand. After Weirdmageddon, he’d asked Wendy to teach him how to use one. 

Before Ford could argue further, Stan came around the corner baseball bat in hand. “Take this you stupid robot!!” He screamed swinging his baseball bat, just as Flirt B0t 3000’s head turned to face him. 

It’s head flies clear off, Dipper shooting it with his crossbow as it flies in front of him. Stan beat the headless body repeatedly until it stopped twitching and was nothing but a pile of mangled metal and wires. 

“Grunkle Stan!! How’d you know we needed help?” Mabel asked as she ran up to him, hugging him. 

Stan let out a small “oof” upon impact before explaining “Well, when Ford mentioned making a robot to practice asking out Y/n with and then none of you picked up the phone when I called, I figured it went horribly wrong. And would you look at that, I was right!” Stan kicked the robot's remains once more.   

“Thank you Grunkle Stan!! But did you see that shot!?” Dipper asked, laughing. 

“Sure did kid! Wendy's one hel-heck of a teacher ain't she?” He asked, giving Dipper a noogie. 

“Yeah!” Dipper agreed, grunting as he tried to get out of his head lock.

Stan released him before walking over to Ford and popping him upside the head. 

“What was that for Stanley?” Ford cried out rubbing the back of his head. 

“You know for someone so smart you sure can be a real dumbass sometimes. I may not be the best at romance or reading signals but even I can tell that you and her like each other. So for God's sake just ask her out already!” Stan harshly whispered to Ford as he gave him a hug. 

“Yeah, you're right. I mean the worst she can say is no right? Oh God what if she says no? I don't think I can do this!” Ford panicked, pacing. 

“Look Poindexter! You got this, you're the total package, even with those sideburns! Just take a deep breath and go ask her out before you lose your nerve,” Stan said, nudging Ford.

Ford ran out of his laboratory in the basement and headed for the library. 

“Ten bucks says he chickens out,” Stan says, waving at Ford's retreating figure. 

The young twins sigh in unison, shaking their heads at Stan's antics. 

******

Since Ford had awkwardly asked you out that first time a little over a month ago, you’d been spending almost all of your time together. Flowers from Ford littered your cottage and desk at work, and Ford would often have smudges of your dark red lipstick on his face. Even Lady Arson the III approved of him, and she never seemed to like any of your dates. You were both falling hard and fast for one another. 

But you still hadn’t told him about the whole you being a witch thing. Afraid of losing him, even if he was a lover of the supernatural you didn’t know if he still would, once you tell him the truth. You haven’t felt this way about someone since college. But every time you thought about telling him, you chickened out. 

Tonight though, you were going to have a picnic on the hill near your cottage and Ford was going to bring a telescope so you could stargaze. After mentioning to him how you loved astronomy but only ever got to see the stars in textbooks and online since you grew up in New York.  

You hoped nothing paranormal would interrupt your date, seeing as you were planning on finally telling him about your powers maybe. But of course, you just had to say it out loud. 

And well, now here you are in your cute floral sundress and cardigan fighting a very hostile spirit after it had attacked you and Ford while you were skipping stones at the nearby lake. Ford almost cracked his head on the rocks when he stumbled back in shock, at hearing the haunting childlike laughter reaching into his trench coat for holy water.  The category four spirit took this as an opportunity to attack, its cute face morphing into that of horror as it rushed towards the two of you.   

But then much to his surprise, you shoved him behind you before raising your hands and suddenly it slammed against a forcefield you had seemingly created if your glowing hands were any indication. Then a blast of blue light emanated from your open raised palms and the spirit froze before evaporating into thin air.

You sighed in relief before lowering your hands and wiping your brow. You then turned and began kissing Ford's face, pecking all about after you checked him over for injuries.You finally pull away when you feel satisfied with Ford’s blushing disposition. 

“Thank the stars you're okay! I can't believe we stumbled upon a hostile spirit all the way out here. My wards and presence usually keep stuff like this from happening,” you said sighing deeply. 

Ford stuttered his brain attempting to reboot after seeing you use your powers and you kissing his face so much,”Your wards, as in magic? Magic that I just saw you use. Why didn’t you tell me?” he questioned as she paced in front of him, running his fingers through his hair. 

“Well, I—” you cut yourself off sighing deeply. “My being a witch isn’t exactly an ice breaker that I bring up on dates. You know how I haven’t had a serious relationship since college? It ended when she found out I was a witch and since then I just have gotten used to hiding that side of myself from anyone that didn’t already know. So yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I just didn’t want to scare you off because I’m falling for you and I think I might actually even be in love with yo—” Ford cuts you off, grabbing you by the back of your neck and kissing you passionately. 

You stutter, before humming into the kiss. Cupping his face in your hands as one of his hands makes its way to your waist.  You have matching goofy smiles as you pull away for breath resting your foreheads against one another. 

“You could never scare me off because in case you couldn’t tell, I’m in love with you too, darling.” he whispered softly to you, staring into your eyes as you bit your lip bashfully. 

You could feel the heat flushing your face as you felt him pull you closer. In the moonlight, you could see that he was blushing fiercely. You kiss him deeply, opening a portal behind you as you pull him backwards. 

You trip and fall right onto your bed at the cottage, much to Ford’s shock as he pulls away from you. He looks around baffled. 

“Fascinating! You can create portals? I knew that witches existed but I didn't know you could do that!! What else can you do?” Ford asked excitedly as he began to sit up reaching for his journal.  

You followed, grabbing his trench coat lapels, kissing him and flipping him to his back. Ford’s hands went slack, his focus recentered on you as you pulled away with a self satisfied smirk.   

“We can have a Q & A later, right now I’m more interested in other things,” Y/n breathed out before grinding on Ford's lap, feeling his hardness grow underneath you. 

Ford blinked, swallowing as he let out a whine at your continued movement. You kissed his lips again before muttering a soft “Off,” lifting the hem of his turtleneck. He eagerly obliged–almost knocking you in the face if not for your quick reflexes–practically ripping off his trench coat and turtleneck and flinging them across the room. You pulled your cardigan off as you admired his slightly pudgy and hairy physique before running your hands up his hairy yet muscular arms.  

He moaned as you ground down on him again, gripping the back of his neck as you clung to him. You giggled into his mouth, kissing him before standing to remove your sundress and flats. Ford followed suit, kicking off his combat boots and damn near ripping his pants and underwear as he pulled them off. Almost tumbling to the ground as he did so, causing you to both giggle. Until he looked up at you, breath catching at the sight of you still in your matching black lace bra and panty set.

He surges forward, kissing you like a man possessed and kneading your ass. You moan into his mouth, as you feel your panties dampen with your arousal. You feel his hard cock standing at attention, smearing precum onto your stomach. 

Before you know it, Ford has you lying on the bed kissing a trail down to the apex of your thighs. He lingers at your chest, sucking at your nipples through the lace before removing the barrier entirely. You shudder at the attention he gives your nipples, sucking one and rolling the other in his hand. 

You whine as he releases his grip on your chest and his mouth moves south. He teasingly kisses your aching clit and nips at your thighs before slowly pulling down your underwear. 

You buck your hips slightly at the feeling of his breath on your now exposed cunt. 

“Gorgeous,” you hear him whisper before diving in and eating you out like you were his last meal.  

You mewl as he laps at your folds before latching onto your clit and sucking. You buck your hips and whimper as you attempt to shut your legs. Ford pins your right thigh with one hand before moving to open you up with his other. 

You gasp and grasp at his hair roughly when you feel his index finger at your entrance before slowly sinking into you. You moan loudly, whining as he thrusts his finger in and out before adding another. Your eyes slam shut as your back arches at the feeling. 

He scissors his fingers briefly before he makes a come hither motion with his fingers. You begin to shake, your heels digging into his back from where your legs have been perched over Ford's shoulders. 

You whimper out a soft “oh fuck,” the only warning Ford receives before you're cumming all over his face. Whining and moaning as he fingers you and sucks at your clit through your high, moaning into your cunt. Which triggers another harsher orgasm as you sob out, pushing Ford's face away. 

You look down at him between your thighs, his face flushed and glasses askew as he kisses your thighs. As if to apologize for the accidental overstimulation, your chest heaving and thighs twitching still as you smooth out his messy hair. 

You sit up and pull Ford's mouth to yours by the nape of his neck. Kissing and licking into his mouth roughly, tasting yourself on his tongue. He moans into your mouth cupping your face gently. 

You both pull away to breathe, foreheads pressed together. “Are you sure you're up for more?” Ford questions against your lips. 

You smirk as you reach down to grab his cock, stroking its ruddy head. “Oh, I'm just getting started baby boy” you whisper in his ear as he whimpers in yours. 

You flip your positions again, spreading your thighs over his as you position yourself over his cock. Grasping his cock and guiding it towards your entrance, your other hand gripping the sheets by Ford's head. You moan in unison as you sink down his thick cock, gasping when you're fully seated. 

Ford whines as you begin to ride him, slowly at first before gaining a rough rhythm. You pin his hands above his head as he gasps at the sudden move.  Moaning loudly as you nip and lick at his neck, his eyes rolling back. 

You giggle sinfully in his ear, before moaning as he flips you onto your back. Ford grips your hips “My turn,” he growls out before beginning a punishing rhythm that has you crying out once more, tears streaming down your face. 

Your hands grip the sheets before clawing at Ford's back, causing him to moan, and move a hand to grip at the bedspread. 

“Fuck!! I'm close, are you there yet darling?” Ford pants out. 

It takes you a minute to speak coherently, gasping out “Inside, cum inside me! I need it, please” you manage to babble out through your tears.  

“Shit,” Ford hisses, moving to rub at your clit in rough circles. 

You whine and cry out Ford’s name as you writhe, your grip on Ford adjusts as you pull him in for a rough kiss. 

You both moan into the kiss as your walls flutter around his twitching cock. He groans at the feeling, breaking the kiss to press his forehead against yours. You pant into each other's mouths as he breathes out “Cum for me, darling.” 

You let out a silent scream as you cum for a third time, Ford groans as he feels your wetness drench yours and his thighs as you squirt on his cock. His head drops to your neck as he bites your shoulder, shuddering as he thrusts deeply, his spend coating your walls as you pant and sigh. 

You lock your feet together around his waist as he collapses onto you. You play with his hair as the smell of sex and sweat permeates the air in the afterglow. 

You wince as you feel his softening cock slowly pull out. He groans at the sight of his cum dripping out of your wet cunt. You feel your combined cum drip down to the crack of your ass as you sit up. 

“So, I'm a mess. Wanna help me clean up?” You smirk up at him, eyes glinting deviously. 

He laughs before pulling you up, “I thought you'd never ask,” you both smile into the kiss you share as you grab his hand, kissing it and leading him to your bathroom.  

You might just send the council a thank you basket for sending you to Gravity Falls after all. . . 

******

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I had fun writing this!

[caliform-ula]

tour diaries ✮ february 21st/22nd ✮ houston, texas ✮

FIRST SHOW!!!!! this was our first weekend of tour and wow, what a kind welcome we got in texas. i’ve literally never been to texas so this was sooooo exciting for me.

i must say….. wtf it was so cold </3 we happened to be in houston during some of y’all’s coldest weather in the last few years!!! needless to say, i was definitely freezing the entire time hahaha.

we played both friday and saturday at katy mills!!! i met so many new people and had the privilege of sharing my art with them. touring the malls is rly cool for me because i never got the chance to tour the USA during my loverboy era - which has some of my most upbeat pop music i’ve ever made. loverboy was my pandemic baby, so it’s so fun to bring this music to life city after city

✮ highs and lows ✮ opening night of tour always have their ups and downs! honestly one of my highs was riding in the tour van for the first time!!!! we landed in houston, and got picked up by the greater than tour van!!!!! i was like holy shit… i’m really on tour right now this is crazy. my low definitely was getting used to traveling and performing same day. this was soooo new for me and i definitely took it like a champ! this is tour life and there’s for sure gonna be moments where i can’t let being tired take over.

✮ mall report ✮ i thought this would be a fun section to add in every week to share my favorite parts of each mall we visit! i could not believe it……. this mall has a bass pro shop inside it!!!!! i was like dude that is crazy. growing up in new york, we never had anything like bass pro shop, so anytime im down south i must visit!!!!

✮ tour outfit ✮ i <3 this outfit this day! my shirt is thrifted from a shop i love in burbank, california called the holding company! their mens vintage collection is insane and my favorite! i swear jorts and a loafer have become my new uniform….. so expect to see lots of it this tour hahahaha

✮ what i’m listening to on the van ✮ i said i was going to share music im listening to in each city, but lucky for me i forgot my headphones at home 😍 and sat through two silent flights……. lol

but trust me tons of new music recommendations coming ur way shortly.

✮ favorite spot ✮ we didn’t have too much time this week to explore the city, BUT oh my god… we went to Chuy’s Tex-mex and it was soooooo good. i’ve been vegan for over ten years, so i’m on a mission to find the best vegan food in every city. i got the veggie enchiladas and yup! 10/10

another high that needs it own moment has to be being on a songwriting panel with princess superstar <3 we talked all about our songwriting and creative process….. SOOO FUN!!!! she’s a pop genius so this was such a sick experience!!!

tour continues this weekend and i can’t wait to see u in oklahoma city!!!!!! <333333

tour dates + music info here

[mariacallous]

I recently watched a YouTube video of a Ukrainian performance on “America’s Got Talent.” A friend sent me the link, promising it would amaze me – and it did. You can find the video by searching “Amazing holographic 4D cube show AGT.” However, when the show’s host, Howie Mandel, said, “America’s got love for the Ukraine,” I cringed. The phrase “the Ukraine” implies it’s a territory, not a sovereign country. It’s just Ukraine – the largest country in Europe, an important nation in its own right, and sadly, a place the world still knows too little about.

Ukraine is often branded as a place of corruption and gangsters, and Hollywood doesn’t help when it makes the villains Ukrainian. After living in Kyiv for years, I’ve experienced something very different. The country I know is filled with talented, hardworking, and warm people who possess an incredible sense of humor. Since Russia’s full-scale invasion, too many people think Ukraine is nothing but a war zone.

I recently heard Mstyslav Chernov, the director of the Oscar-winning documentary “20 Days in Mariupol,” say that Americans often ask, “Is there more to Ukraine than the war?” I’ve had similar frustrating conversations abroad, with people asking, “Is that war still going on?”

Before the pandemic, I hosted many foreigners visiting Kyiv, often to explore IT opportunities. Questions like “Is it safe there?” or “Do they have the internet?” were common. Even more surprising are comments from the Ukrainian diaspora. In Canada, home to the largest Ukrainian community outside of Ukraine, some people who left decades ago have no idea how their country has advanced. “They have shopping malls in Kyiv?” or “Do they have electric cars?”

Yes, Ukraine faces challenges, and many people live on modest salaries. But there is a growing middle class, and the big cities capture imaginations. Every guest I hosted in Kyiv was blown away.

One misconception that always made me giggle is when people ask, “What will we eat there?” The food scene in Kyiv is incredible. There’s been an explosion of amazing restaurants, and dining out here can compete with New York or London any day. Even during the war, new places are opening, and the food is phenomenal. If you want to have a laugh,  stand-up comedy clubs are popular – even in English. Where there’s laughter, there’s hope.

I had a friend from California visit twice, and when he returned to Los Angeles, people teased him, asking if he’d visited the land of Borat. He said Ukrainians are just like people in California – trying to build businesses, raise families, and live their lives. That’s the thing: Ukraine is not some backward nation that craves war.

Before the full-scale invasion, Kyiv was on track to become Europe’s next hotspot, and I’d have bet anything on that happening. This brutal war has set everything back. Ukraine is not about war. It’s about modernity, freedom, and new culture. It’s a country brimming with energy.

Ukraine has suffered from a poor reputation for as long as I can remember. I first discovered Kyiv nearly 17 years ago, and I’ve been saying ever since that Ukraine needs to work on its brand. Of course, now that we’re in the third year of the full-scale invasion, things are different. Air raid sirens can go off at any time, and it can be scary when Ukrainian air defenses shoot down drones and missiles. During those moments, you head to the bomb shelter. But life continues.

One of the biggest misconceptions about Ukraine is that everyone here is poor and miserable. Most people don’t have easy lives, and yes, poverty exists, but that’s true in many places. I’m originally from South Africa, where poverty exists on a different scale. In Ukraine, no one lives in shantytowns. When millions of Ukrainians fled across the borders, the European host nations were often surprised to see modern cars, fashionable clothes, and the latest smartphones. It’s a high-tech nation, and the level of online convenience here would surprise any foreigner.

There’s also a wave of innovation happening. Ukraine is poised to become a global leader in military drone technology. Artists are creating, entrepreneurs are developing cool tech, new restaurants are opening, and foreign investors are exploring opportunities. Ukraine is a miracle. Even as hypersonic missiles and kamikaze drones rain down across the country, many have decided to stay, continuing their lives, albeit in a very different way. The economy needs to keep running. Life needs to go on to keep the wheels turning.

Many passionate, dedicated people are working on projects to benefit and support Ukraine. Some have been involved long before the full-scale invasion, driven by a deep belief in the country and its people. Since 2018, I’ve been part of a team of artists — Ukrainian and international — creating a storytelling film project that captures life in modern Kyiv. “We Are Ukraine” is a story about extraordinary people in an extraordinary time — people who have chosen to continue to work, live, get married, have children, and laugh, against all odds. It’s not a war story, a story about death and demise. It’s a story about life, a love letter to Kyiv, which shows us what the world would miss out on if Kyiv would cease to exist.

Freedom, independence, and identity are the culmination of modern humanity, forged over centuries through struggle, creativity, and resilience. Everything else in civil society flows from these values. Russia’s war in Ukraine is a global wake-up call – a reminder that these values must be nurtured and protected. Ukrainians are showing that not only can they defend these values, but by continuing to live, laugh, and love, they are defying those who seek to destroy them.

[goldfades]

𝐦𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧'𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞, 𝐬𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞 | delicate au, intro to libby turner-fallon

✦ some fun facts about libby!

libby (NOT elizabeth!) turner-fallon was born on april 5th, 2003 in san diego, california

she has an older sister and a younger brother and she loves them so much!

her older sister's name is liz turner-fallon, which can be confusing because their names are both nicknames for elizabeth (but none of them are named elizabeth) and she's 5 years older than her

liz is an actress and she lives in new york city, and she's been married for 3 years

her younger brother's name is leon turner-fallon and he's 2 years younger than her

he was really good at hockey since the day he picked up the hockey stick and he was instantly deemed the "golden" child

he played hockey at the university of michigan during the 2021-22 and the 2022-23 before getting picked by the new jersey devils in the 2023 draft

she's closest to her younger brother because they grew up together, liz moved away as soon as she turned 18 because she wanted to pursue an acting career

she's a daddy's girl for sure, but only because her mother loves coddling leon but she insists she loves her parents equally

her mom was a nurse and her father works as a director in hollywood, he became a household name before libby was even born

when she was younger, her parents really wanted her to become an actress like her sister but she really didn't want to

they stopped pushing her when she was around 9 years old, but then she found a new passion - singing and songwriting!

she taught herself the guitar and began posting covers of songs on a youtube channel and after getting inspired emma chamberlain, she began vlogging as well

her parents began recognizing her talent and began searching for a label that would be interested, but one day in 2018 a well-known label reached out to her and she signed

libby released her first album in early 2018 and it was a big hit

she moved out to new york in early 2021, right after the pandemic to pursue her singing career

she began dating josh laurier in early 2022 and they broke up in march 2023

josh was an actor who was in a lot of popular tv shows and the break-up caused a lot of backlash towards the singer

[thegingerwrites]

Fanbinding: am i a stranger to you? by @chasingfictions

Summary:

Just then, the last of the blood slipping from that boy into Spike, him and Dru grabbing for each other with their fangs in each other’s mouths, then walking hand in hand up Fifth Avenue, all the way back home, a little prayer croaks out of him, before he realizes enough to grab it back— Please. Please, let it be like this always. - (In which New York City is one of the various loves of Spike's unlife, he can’t stop thinking about the Slayer, and in which, mostly, he just really wants to belong somewhere, if anyone will have him.)

link here

I was inspired by the folks at the Renegade Bookbinding Guild and their Binderary 2024 events to try my hand at binding some of my favorite works of fanfiction. This one is the fifth part of chasingfictions my blood tastes like laughter series and has had a special place in my heart since 2021. I'm from NY and I read this between classes my first semester back at school during the pandemic and Spike's love for the city seemed to perfectly resonated with my own so I wanted to commemorate that in print!

This is the first text block I've ever sewn by hand. At four signatures, this seemed like a perfect starter project. I'm learning that part of designing books is doing it by ✨vibe✨ The gray/white/silver/gold marbled cover said New York to me, sort of a glass and concrete with a bit of shine aesthetic. I went with red end papers because vampires. The typesetting isn't too fancy but I really wanted to find an art deco ornament to separate sections of the fic. It took me a while to figure out how I wanted to decorate the spine. I originally used a gold foil quill to trace the text of the title and author but then went over it with a paint pen recommended in one of the Binderary sessions last month and fell in love with the effect. I can't believe my hand was steady enough to get it that clean 😅

[chamerionwrites]

I should log the fuck off but like. The tyranny, the violence that you’re so terrified of? I’ve seen some of it up close. I’ve lived in the aftermath of a right wing coup. I’ve attended five funerals in the space of a week, of much-too-young men (with much-too-young children) who were killed by US government policy in a very real and direct way.

And then I have returned home to an election between Hillary Clinton - who openly bragged in her memoir of helping to facilitate said right-wing coup - and Donald Trump, whose entire campaign revolved around demonizing my former neighbors and friends, and promising to wield the violence of the American state against them and people like them. I have held my nose and voted for Hillary fucking Clinton, because I know a would-be fascist dictator when I see one and I understand what harm reduction is.

And then I have gone to immigration protest after immigration protest after immigration protest. In fact it’s no exaggeration to say that basically all of my human contact during the entire pandemic year was weekly immigration protests. I’ve stood up and argued against off-brand Richard Spencer fuckheads in city hall meetings and stared them down when they showed up to counter protest and intimidate. I have cried more tears than I’ve probably cried during the entire rest of my adult life over murdered and brutalized immigrant children who could so so so terrifyingly easily have been children that I personally know and love.

I’ve voted for Biden and hoped that he might keep his promises and dreaded that he wouldn’t - because I know what the Democratic party’s track record is, because I’ve worked with immigration activists who are many decades older than me and who have been betrayed over and over and over. I’ve watched over four years, sickened but not shocked, as the Biden administration did exactly that. I’ve watched Harris’ unbelievably callous response to asylum seekers fleeing for their lives (“Do not come”). I’ve watched as the New York Times and other media that screamed condemnation from the rooftops about Trump’s immigration policies justified those exact same policies with the tiniest bit of airbrushing, and anytime I criticized those policies I’ve gotten the predictable crowd of DNC fans having hysterics at me about how I must want Trump to win again. To my own shame I’ve been quieter than I probably should have been in my criticisms because I was so sick of dealing with those people.

And then I’ve held my nose and voted for Harris and STILL gotten accused of being a vote-abstaining traitor who should be deported the moment I expressed the tiniest ounce of frustration with the Democratic party - because you needed somewhere to put your rage, and you either don’t understand or (even more ghoulishly) don’t care what the violence of deportation entails, and because apparently anything less than choking myself on the DNC’s dick makes Donald Trump my fault.

I do not wish any of this on you, because I’m not a fucking monster.

Instead I wish you enough moral and mental and emotional clarity to understand exactly what it is that you’ve said, and enough scraps of conscience to regret it as you ought.

[more-sonorous]

sun, moon, stars part 1— jatherid blurb

I adore this ship and I decided to write the hypothetical beginning of a fic loosely based on a post I saw by @blurglesmurfklaine about these three being roomies during the 2020 quarantine

Please lmk if you’d consider reading more! Also TW for mentions of the Covid pandemic!

…

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s not as bad as it seems.” 

Katherine Pulitzer watched as her best friend, David Jacobs, anxiously traced his thumb over the grooves in the table beneath them. He always had a lot of nervous energy, but this was another level.

Those round, green eyes of his were flitting about behind the lenses of his thick-framed glasses, flicking between his laptop and her. She frowned and reached across the table to gently pat his hand. 

“Maybe you’re right, David.” She said, doing her best to reassure him with a calm smile. “You might enjoy some time back at home…”

“Trapped in my parents’ house for an undisclosed amount of time without Sarah? Yeah.” He let out a dry laugh and buried his face in his hands.

She glanced over the familiar pattern of freckles on the backs of his pale hands as her mind raced to try and come up with a solution. 

Katherine and David grew up side-by-side in a small town in upstate New York. They went to the same synagogue and attended the same schools, and had been virtually inseparable since first grade. They’d even gone to the same college and purposefully lived in the same dormitories each year, because they couldn’t be roommates due to their genders. Post-college they were just as close. Kath knew David like the back of her own hand, and knew his family very well by extension. The Jacobs’s were incredibly nice. Esther and Mayer were loving parents that cared deeply for their children, Sarah, David, and Les, which often led to David feeling burdened when he visited. 

Unlike his younger brother and elder sister, David was an introvert with narcolepsy. That led to his parents smothering him when he stayed with them, something that he didn’t necessarily appreciate in large dosages. Now that an imminent quarantine in New York City had been announced, Katherine could tell he wasn’t excited to drive one-and-a-half hours upstate and out of the city just to sequester himself away with two fretting parents and a teenage younger brother. 

“Where’s Sarah staying? I still don’t think I get why you two can’t hole up in your apartment together.” She took a brief sip of her latte and closed the keyboard of her iPad, fully immersing herself in the conversation.

David shrugged as he glanced out the window adjacent to him. The streets looked deceptively normal, despite the warning the city’d just received. “She’s going to stay with her fianceé and her family. They have a vacation house in Massachusetts.”

“Right…” Katherine winced sympathetically as she tried to read him for his opinion. He had a telltale furrow in his brow that showed how disappointed he was. “I forgot Sarah’s been gold digging.”

“Yeah. Sometimes I wish I could live alone.” He lamented, glancing up at her with a sad little smile tugging on the corners of his lips. “Narcolepsy and autism aren’t a good combination.” 

Katherine rolled her eyes fondly, reaching across their little cafe table to fix his glasses. “You make it work, though.”

“Barely.” He shrugged, and as he glanced down at the string he was spinning between his fingers, probably picked off of his sweatshirt. She saw just how bothered David was about all of this. There was a rigid hunch to his shoulders and his normally smiling face had been twisted into an unhappy resting frown. “Like— I love my parents and I like visiting home, but I moved out for a reason, you know? They make me feel like I’m incapable of functioning without constant supervision, which just isn’t true.” 

“Of course.” She nodded, sympathy tugging at her heartstrings.

David was brilliant. He was one of the smartest people she knew. They’d been neck-to-neck for valedictorian in school and he’d ended up stealing the spot with his straight A’s, 4.0 GPA and 34 on the ACT. Hell, he was working through a master’s degree in Juridical Science, and still managed to tack on both a history minor and a literature minor during undergrad. She’d gladly tell anyone she knew that he was a genius. Kath didn’t know exactly why David couldn’t live alone, but she knew that narcolepsy made it dangerous. He couldn’t drive because of his condition and she knew that sometimes he needed help waking up and sleeping. She also knew that because of his autism, he tended to lose himself in reading or school projects, because she’d had to remind him herself to eat or take breaks multiple times throughout their friendship. 

He didn’t deserve to feel babied. The thought of David holed up in his house and miserable while she spent her quarantine happy with her boyfriend made her feel uncomfortable. 

Yes, Kath moved in with her boyfriend of three months, Jack Kelly, and despite what her parents said, she regretted nothing so far. Jack had a nice studio apartment in Upper Manhattan and she’d rather die than spend quarantine in the Pulitzer mansion with her asshole father and suburbanite mother. Not to mention at least one of her six other siblings would be home, and Katherine didn’t get along well with most of them.

She was sort of the black sheep in her family. A bisexual, unmarried journalist in her late twenties, moving in with her Hispanic boyfriend after only knowing him for a few months? Her family was constantly having conniption fits over her life, and she was too happy to care. 

Jack brought so much joy to her life. She didn’t care that her parents hated the fact he was a full-time artist. She ignored the snide remarks her father made about his ethnicity and illegal immigrants. Her mother liked to gossip about his ‘street style’ because he had one of his ears pierced and he liked to wear ripped jeans. They warned her about a potential ‘seedy past’ just because he had scars on his arms and face— just two little ones splitting his eyebrow and left jaw. They were wrong about Jack, though. He was sweet and funny and passionate and talented, and Katherine liked that in men.

So she’d moved in three weeks ago, and things were going swimmingly. Part of her wanted David to be that happy, and part of her didn’t even know if she could handle being away from him indefinitely.

“There’s got to be something we can do.” She stated firmly, watching him miserably pick at his untouched croissant. “Someone you can stay with…”

“I’m not burdening anyone but my family with my health issues.” He responded just as stubbornly. 

“Don’t even. You’re not a burden. What about—“ The idea struck her like some sort of cartoonish eureka moment. She felt her own grin and wondered why she hadn’t had the thought to do this before. “What about me and Jack? Jack’s brother Tony’s moving in with his boyfriend for quarantine so his room’ll be open…”

David’s cheeks began to splotch pink beneath his freckles. “I— I haven’t even met Jack.”

“Oh, that doesn’t matter. He’ll like you. He has to like you. You’re my best friend, and you’re part of the Katherine Pulitzer Package.”

A sheepish grin took over his face and he dropped eye contact again, that pinkish color tinging the tip of his nose and his endearingly wide ears. “Kath…”

“It’s true. And the thought of you spending all of this quarantine an hour and a half away from me during a pandemic is making me nervous.” She crossed her arms, starting to like the idea more with every word she said. “Listen, David, I’ll run it by Jack and you could probably move in right after! You’re already packed, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, but—“

“Then you can take the spare room and we’ll split rent three ways. It’ll be better for all of us. David, this is going to be so fun! Think of all the shows we’ll be able to binge!” She was practically near the point of squealing as she took his hands in her own. Visions of younger Kath and Davey filled her mind, composed of all of the times they’d sworn to live together or start up businesses or run libraries side by side. This was going to be fun. She’d get to spend time with her two favorite people.

Unconvinced, David’s frown deepened. “Kathy, I… I don’t know. Does he— does Jack know I’m autistic? And my narcolepsy, I don’t… I don’t wanna make him uncomfortable.”

“Uncomfortable?” Katherine scoffed, offended by the thought. “If he’s uncomfortable then that’s a huge red flag. You and I can just pack our stuff and move into your place. But Jack won’t be weird, I promise. He’s incredibly sweet. And David— you don’t make people uncomfortable.”

“I sleep all of the time and I have incredibly strange habits—“

“Everybody has weird habits.” She insisted, dead-set on the idea. “And sleeping all the time is better than leaving out dirty dishes or never closing the toilet seat, or something. Plus, you’re incredibly tidy which’ll fit right in with Jack and I. He cooks, I do laundry, and you can help us clean up.”

“I don’t want you to have to do my laundry…”

“Specifics~” In a sing-song voice, she tried to subdue his overthinking. 

He tilted his head with a slight smile, obviously confused by her. They were at the point where he didn’t have to voice his troubles reading her emotions. She found the expression adorable, anyways. “You really are determined to see this through, aren’t you?” 

“Yep.” She grinned wildly, “You know how I get when I’m determined.”

“I know.” David conceded, and Kath noticed that he already looked just a bit brighter as he carefully brushed one of his chocolate-brown curls off of his brow. “I guess I… I’ll tell my parents if your boyfriend says yes. Will you— you’re not gonna— I won’t be interrupting anything, will I?” 

Kath was confused for just a split second, until she noticed the pinkish color of his cheeks. She couldn’t suppress her own soft giggle. “Oh, no, David. You won’t be.”

“Okay… if you say so.” He shook his head at her as his attention returned to his laptop. She could see the reflection of a Quizlet in his lenses.

Now she was practically itching to leap out of her chair in the tiny café. The news outlet she worked for had already transferred them to online work, since they only went into the offices three days a week. She was going to go home to Jack and have an easy, quick conversation, and then David wouldn’t have to be miserable. Plus, she’d finally get to live with her best friend.

“You almost done studying, hon?” Kath asked, carefully bumping their ankles together. She polished off her drink, vibrating with the happy energy of a plan coming together. 

He glanced up through long, dark lashes, wearing a little smile at the nickname. “Almost. You rushing me, Kathy?”

“No. I want this future lawyer to pass his test tomorrow.” Despite her practiced tone, she could tell he was seeing right through her. She acquiesced. “But I’m also excited to get home and talk to Jack. I’ll call you right after he says yes.”

“You can’t be sure.” He murmured, and she watched a flashcard flip. 

Katherine was going to quell his nerves, because she was actually 100% positive. “We’ll see about that.” 

David only chuckled softly and returned to his studying. Katherine had long abandoned her half-finished article in favor of conversation with him, so now she just watched his elegant fingers fly across the keys at breakneck speeds. This was going to be good.

…

Katherine was rarely ever wrong, and she hadn’t been wrong about Jack. When she inquired about David, he gave her an easygoing smile and agreed to the living arrangement without much further questioning. Maybe it had been her obvious excitement, or the spiel she’d given in David’s favor before asking the question, but he seemed perfectly alright with a total stranger moving into his spare room. 

She was tossing a throw blanket over the couch when Jack exited the bedroom wearing a tank top and an unbuttoned flannel, the sleeves rolled up to display muscular forearms. He looked so goddamn pretty that it took her brain a moment to reset before she could continue her couch dressing. It wasn’t wise to get Katherine started on his excellent choice in jeans, either. She could go on for days about the way he cuffed his acid-washed pants.

Jack sent her one of his bright smiles as he crossed the room to wrap his arms around her, dropping his chin onto her shoulder since they were nearly the same height. “Is your friend gonna be here soon?”

“Yes.” She placed a soft kiss on his cheek and twisted within his arms, slinging her own around his shoulders. “David’s incredibly kind and smart, but he can be sort of awkward at first. It’s not because he doesn’t like you. And remember, he’s got narcolepsy so—“

“I remember.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, his touch slow and sure. It still stole her breath, even after three months. “I even looked up some of that narcolepsy stuff, just to make sure I was ready.”

Kath’s heart squeezed at this man’s sweetness, and she felt herself smiling dopily as she cupped his cheek in one hand. “You’re incredible. Have I told you that?”

“Maybe. But I don’t mind hearin’ it again.” Jack grinned the type of smile that made Kath want to kiss him senseless. “But uh— does he do any of that sleep attack stuff? Where their muscles stop working.”

“What, cataplexy?”

He nodded, looking like a mixture between uneasy and determined. 

“David doesn’t have it as bad as some people but sometimes you might see his eyelids start to droop against his will. He gets upset about it. Normally he doesn’t have severe attacks but… he was really stressed senior year of high school and he did go limp a couple of times. I’m not saying that’ll happen, because it’s been a while, but if it does and I’m not here for some reason, just sit with him and let him ride it out. Make sure he’s breathing.” 

He gave a firm nod, a lot less nervous than she expected. Then Kath remembered his youngest brother Charlie, who had a birth defect in one leg that required him to use crutches or a wheelchair on high pain days. Jack was used to taking care of the people he loved. The thought of him doing research for David, whom he didn’t even know, made her feel ridiculously giddy. 

“Gotcha.” Jack pressed a kiss to her forehead and trailed a line of similar, sweeter little kisses down to her lips.

When his hands slipped down to press against her lower back, she knew exactly what he was getting at and laughed as she carefully pushed a hand against his firm chest. “Down, boy. He’ll be here within the hour.” 

Jack’s only protest was a childlike whine, which caused her to push him away by the forehead. Both laughed as Jack made his way into the kitchen to start on dinner. She busied herself with tidying the living room, slight nerves building within her as she hoped and prayed that David and Jack would get along. 

Eventually the intercom buzzed and Kath practically sprinted across the room to call David up. She was rife with anticipation, exactly how she felt before submitting a big article. Jack could obviously tell and chuckled softly as he kissed her forehead on the way to the living room.

Moments later came a knock on the door, and Kath excitedly opened it to reveal David in all of his nervous glory.

He wore an overstuffed backpack and a duffle bag was slung over the crook of one elbow. He was clutching two cardboard boxes to his chest, both reading ‘books’ in his neat scrawl. 

“David!” Kath exclaimed, immediately taking the boxes from him. “Did Saz drive you?”

“She’s bringing up the rest of my stuff.” David confirmed, and Kath almost offered to go down and help until she remembered the multiple powerlifting championships his older brother Sarah won in highschool. She figured Sarah would be alright.  

“Come on in, then.” Katherine smiled at him from over the heavy boxes, full of David’s extensive collection of books. His prized possessions.

They wandered into the space, David’s eyes glancing over the kitchen and their little entrance area, complete with a welcome mat and a rack for their coats and bags. Kath had never lived with a significant other, and she was finding the domesticity of it all very lovely. But she wasn’t worried about his reaction to the place itself. 

The big moment came when David stepped into the living room, Kath trailing behind. Jack quickly stood and she watched as both boys took each other in.

Inwardly, she was proud of David for making an excellent first impression. He wore a nice pair of khakis and an olive green sweater that made his eyes look almost vibrant in their green hue. His curls were tamed and he didn’t look too much like a deer in headlights, though she could already see him struggling to maintain eye contact with a smiling Jack, who gravitated towards him and offered a hand. “I’m Jack. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I hope that’s a good thing. I’m David… it’s nice to meet you.” He took Jack’s hand, which only reminded Kath how tall he was.

Jack was a bit on the shorter side at 5”9, but David towered above just about everyone at a clean 6”2. 

“Well, it’s nice to meet ya’ too, Davey.” 

“Oh, it’s— um—“

They shook hands and David didn’t even wipe his palm off on his thigh as he normally did, staring at Jack with wide, green eyes. It had to be the nickname that had spooked him, Kath knew, and felt her anxiety peak. Last time someone had attempted to give him a nickname he’d nearly shut down, but instead his eyes just roamed over Jack’s easy expression.

He cleared his throat. “Right. So… uh… my room?”

“Right this way, sir.” Jack, goofball that he was, pretended to tip an invisible cap. A little smile split across David’s face as he followed Jack further into their space, to the spare bedroom Tony had recently vacated. The tension seemed to disappear immediately as Jack took David’s duffel from him and led the way.

That went surprisingly well. Kath wasn’t sure she’d ever seen David take to someone so easily. Except for herself, of course. But they were six years old and she’d asked him to play pirates with her since he was crying, so she wasn’t sure if that counted. Usually it took him about a month to get past prolonged, stony silences and awkward refusal of eye contact, but here he was smiling and relaxing his tense posture already. 

Snapping out of her stupor, Kath joined the boys in the bedroom, and set David’s boxes on his desk. She finally pulled him into a hug. He responded gratefully, pressing his cheek into her auburn hair. She felt the tension seep out of him like it always did when they hugged. “Thank you so much for this, Kathy.” 

“You don’t have to thank me. I think we’re too codependent to survive a quarantine apart.” 

David laughed softly and stepped back, tucking his hands into his pockets as he examined the room. He was drawn towards the window, which is sort of what Kath expected from him. His childhood bedroom had a bay window and a reading nook. They’d spend countless hours curled up there. “This place is really lovely.” 

“Thanks.” Jack leaned against the closet, eyes lingering on David. Kath could understand— sometimes it was difficult to look away. He was incredibly pretty. “My Ma’s friend used to own it and she pulled some strings to get it for me and my brother Racer.”

When she was younger, there’d been multiple years in which she was convinced she’d marry David one day. He was handsome and smart and really witty and sarcastic once you got to know him— but that dream had sort of fallen through when David never showed any interest in dating. His life revolved around his grades, his intense hyperfixation keeping him from any sort of romance. He’d never dated, to Katherine’s knowledge, and as they got closer to thirty, she wondered if he might be asexual or something.

He was a compelling person. She was glad to call him her best friend. “Have you called your parents yet, David?”

“Yeah. I think they’re disappointed, but, uh…” He grinned sheepishly. “I’m not.”

“Good.” Kath smiled and started to carefully unpack the boxes. 

They heard the intercom buzz again, and Jack politely excused himself to go help Sarah in. David slid up to stand side by side with Kath as they carefully removed his books from the boxes. He broke the comfortable silence, voice tight with nerves. “I… I’m really not interrupting anything, right?”

“No.” She answered as emphatically as possible, leaving no room for doubt. “You’re not interrupting, and you’re not a burden, so don’t even think it. I’m glad to have you here, David.”

“Okay.” He exhaled, and some more of that rigid tension seemed to slip from his slim shoulders. “Just checking.”

“I know.” She gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “What do you think of Jack?”

Green eyes grew wide and he glanced comically between Kath and the bedroom door. “Kath, he could come back any second!”

“Just tell me now!” She couldn’t stop her own giggle at the sight of David’s tiny smile, resting an eager hand on his arm. 

He tilted his head and leaned in, still glancing at the door. David’s volume dropped to an intimate sort of whisper, a tone that sounded nice in his soft voice. “He… he seems really charismatic. And handsome.”

“Isn’t he?” Kath gushed, excited to have David’s approval so quickly. “I think you two will really get along well.” 

Moments later, Jack re-entered the room with Sarah in tow. As promised, she had the bulk of David’s things and carried them with ease, impressive biceps flexed as she set the bags and boxes on the floor. Sarah, embarrassingly enough, had been Katherine’s bisexual awakening. Two years older and positively gorgeous, she’d crushed on David’s big sister for the first two years of highschool.

Privately, Kath couldn’t think of anyone that wouldn’t find Sarah stunning. She was tall and built and she had the prettiest dark hair. It was funny- David was like a string bean compared to her as he hugged her tightly. They were close. Sarah might’ve been the only person closer to David than Kath herself.

They exchanged greetings as everyone helped David unpack, setting up the room and slowly making it his own.  

Jack took a liking to Sarah as well, but to Kath’s utter delight, he really seemed to click with David. David laughed at Jack’s ridiculous little jokes and seemed to enjoy his passionate ranting about art. He even let Jack call him Davey for the entirety of the night, which both Sarah and Kath were floored about.  

On the other hand, Jack seemed to like David’s dry humor and found his awkwardness just as endearing as Kath did. He listened to David talk about his rigorous law courses with rapt interest, and Kath decided then and there that they’d be fast friends.

She knew change was hard for David, and that was evident in the way he clung to Sarah once his room was set up. She rocked him back and forth in the hug and gently ruffled his hair as they said their goodbyes. 

Soon Sarah was gone, and Kath could see actual tears in David’s eyes as she left. The only logical thing to do was tug him into a hug, which he melted into. “You’re both gonna be okay, David.”

“I know.” He sniffled, fists gently curling into the material of Kath’s shirt. “I’ve just— I’ve never not lived with Saz.”

“It’s a big change.” Kath agreed, and gently ran her fingers through his curls. 

Jack was wearing a familiar look of sympathy as he stepped closer, gently placing a hand on David’s back. His love language was physical affection above anything else, and thankfully David didn’t flinch away as Jack spoke. “How’d you feel about a movie tonight, Davey?”

Davey hiccuped, “Sounds good.” 

Carefully, Jack patted him on the back and slipped out into the living room. Once they were in private, David’s chest started to shake with little sobs and Kath hugged him even tighter. She’d expected this, but it didn’t make seeing her best friend cry any easier. 

“Shh, David. I’ve got you.” She assured, continuing to card her fingers through his hair. The poor thing was bent at an awkward angle, glasses smushed against his cheek. “This is gonna be fun, right? Longest sleepover ever.”

He laughed wetly and nodded,  pushing his hands beneath his glasses to dry his eyes. “Okay. I think it’s out of my system.”

“Even if it’s not, I’m always right here.” She gave his arm a gentle squeeze, remembering the countless times he’d held her while she cried over her frustrating parents. Tears weren’t a foreign thing between the two. “Change into something comfortable and I’ll put on Dead Poets Society.”

“Thanks, Kathy.” He whispered, fingers gently trailing down to wrap around her wrist.

Stupidly, her heart skipped a beat. Sometimes he looked at her like she was the most precious thing in the world, and the sheer sincerity in his green eyes made her feel some type of way.

The strangest thing was that Jack made her feel the exact same. She tried to push that down and gave him another reassuring squeeze before exiting the room.

David with tear-streaked cheeks was an unfairly pretty sight. 

The smell of popcorn filled the living area as Kath reclined on the couch, pulling up the movie of choice just in time for Jack to join her with a bowl full of popcorn. He glanced at the bedroom door David had since shut, concern lining his features. “Is he okay?” 

“He will be.” She leaned into Jack’s side, balancing the popcorn on her lap. When he still looked uneasy, she laughed softly and nudged his knee. “I promise. It’s tough for him to regulate his emotions when he’s tired, and I’m sure he’s had a long day. Plus, he and Sarah are super close so he might have sister withdrawals.” 

“Okay. That was just sort of heartbreaking.” Jack muttered like the human teddy bear he was, one arm tightening around Katherine. 

“You’re too nice for your own good, did you know that?” She teased, running her fingertips down his cheek. “David will be fine. I promise.” 

Jack smiled and nudged their noses together. “I’ve never seen this movie.” 

“It’s his favorite.” She explained simply, smoothing down the collar of Jack’s flannel. “Don’t let him hear you say that.”

They shared a little laugh as David emerged from his bedroom, looking a little more put together despite his puffy eyes. He wore a Columbia t-shirt and a pair of soft gray sweatpants that Kath knew he adored. He curled up on the opposite end of the couch, about a foot away, and Kath felt like it wouldn’t be proper to call him over and close the gap. Instead she balanced the popcorn on the cushion between them, wishing he would just sit next to her like he normally did.

His little smile at the sight of the title on the screen was enough. “Have you seen this, Jack?”

Jack and Kath exchanged a look before Jack grinned at David, wide and blinding. “Nope.” 

David’s jaw dropped, and when laughter filled the room, Katherine was sure everything would be alright.

Like most movie nights with her best friend went, he was curled up asleep by the end of the film, using the armrest of the couch as a pillow with his knees drawn up to his chest. She didn’t know how someone so tall could make themselves so tiny in sleep. They liked to joke that he’d never seen the end of a movie before. Jack was crying incoherently behind her as the credits rolled and she decided that this spontaneous quarantine was going to be a bit less terrifying with these boys around.

[aft3rglow]

Alexandra Grace Carver, best known as Lexie, grew up in the heart of London with her siblings and her mom. She never met her dad, but that’s where the supernatural part of her comes from. Half-god, though she never gave it much thought until recently.

Music was always in her blood. Even as a kid, she filled the house with her voice, belting out songs at the top of her lungs. Instead of writing diary entries, she scribbled down lyrics, filling pages with words that meant something to her. And when she got her first guitar? That was it. The moment everything clicked into place. From then on, she wrote songs with a passion that only grew stronger. Performing them for her family. For anyone who’d listen.

The day she turned eighteen, she packed her bags and moved to New York City, a place that had always felt like it was calling her home. She studied art history, spent her days working as a museum guide, and her nights performing in bars. Little by little, New Yorkers started to recognize her name. And when the pandemic hit, she took a leap—started posting her music online. More people listened. More people connected with the songs she poured her soul into.

That’s when Gracie Abrams was born. A name pulled from her middle name and her favorite bookstore back in London. Her little corner of the indie music scene grew, one song at a time. She released her first EP during the lockdown, an experience that felt both surreal and electric. That's when she met her manager and close friend Claire, who believed in her from the start. And when the world opened back up, she stepped onto a stage for the first time in front of the people who had been listening to her music for years. A small tour. A dream becoming real, one city at a time.

Then came Good Riddance, her first album, which blew up way more than she expected. Then came Taylor Swift, calling with an offer she never saw coming—opening for the Eras Tour. Suddenly, everything shifted. The attention, the crowds, the way people started recognizing her on the street. She pressed pause on her art history degree. Quit her museum job. Music had always been her dream, and now it was her life.

Now, her new album The Secret of Us has been out since July 2024, and she’s spending her days exactly where she’s always meant to be—on the road, playing her songs for the people who love them as much as she does.

[helenrourke]

And we've finally reached the New York City Arc 🗽

This arc has always been a favorite of mine. Tsukushi after being chased after by Tsukasa for most of the story, is now the one chasing him. I think this arc really shows how much Tsukushi has grown since the beginning of the story. She was afraid to take risks because of how the F4 ruled Eitoku Academy. I don't think the Tsukushi from volume one would have the courage to travel to a foreign country, all in the name of love.

Tsukasa has also grown at this point too. While he is still hot-headed, the Tsukasa of the past wouldn't have sacrificed everything for his love of Tsukushi. In the early volumes sure, Tsukasa liked Tsukushi, but he really didn't know her, the way he knows her now.

This arc has been adapted several times. I know for Meteor Garden (2018) the cast filmed in London (I still need to watch that version). I have the K-Drama adaptation where they went to Macau, and I enjoyed that version a lot.  They didn’t do this arc in F4: Thailand but then again, they filmed the series during the pandemic, so international travel was difficult.  I like to believe they left that arc out because of that.

The J-Drama adaptation of Hana Yori Dango is my favorite, because they went all out and filmed in New York City.  I mean the opening scene when you see Tsukushi in Times Square, you knew it was going to be a good episode.

I'm sorry but this scene where she's trying to speak English is adorable and I love her for it.

Also, who doesn’t love Rui’s entrance in the live action adaptation.  It’s comical.  There is no way that would play out like that in real life.

Finally, we have this gem of a scene with dumbfounded Tsukasa. In which he realizes it is indeed his girlfriend who has shown up to New York after he ghosted her for several months.

This will probably not be my last post about this arc lol

[fearlessword]

I’ll meet you in my dreams - Chapter 1

Summary: You dreamed of the boy who played piano before you knew who he was. Humming the melodies you heard in your sleep brought BTS into your life and you thought it was just meant to be.When you finally have the chance to see him perform live, you realize that the dreams you have are more than a coincidence. You hope he dreams of you too.

Masterlist

Chapter 1

Wake up. Teach. Eat. Plan. Overthink. Cry. Sleep.

Repeat.

You didn’t know how your life turned out to be like this. You hated it. You hated the city streets were empty. You hated that the principal kept watching each lesson just to criticize your teaching.You hated teaching online and how burned out you were because of it. You hated not being able to see your friends, or what’s left of them. You hated that fucking virus that postponed all of your plans. You hated how much you missed your cheating ex and that traitor you once called best friend.

Everything sucks in 2020.

At first, it seemed like it was just for a while, which also meant a good break before the craziness that came with Spring and the end of the school year. Two months after the government announced the quarantine, you were burned out, rethinking life choices, crying yourself to sleep because of a break up you thought you had moved on from. Your roommate and coworker Camila was the only good thing. She became a nice friend who could relate to you. Both of you were just two tired teachers trying to survive in New York City during a pandemic. The growing friendship you had made it bearable. When nights were especially hard for you and you’d sob and cry at 3 am, your friend wouldn’t say a thing, only to greet you with open arms, a mug of hot coffee, and a silent promise of ice cream and movies after dinner. You didn’t deserve it, considering you were the reason she’d wake up in the middle of the night, but she didn’t hold it against you, and you were grateful for that.

If you were being honest with yourself, you knew you shouldn’t be crying for a relationship that finished two years ago. It was hard not to, especially now that there wasn’t much, besides work, to keep you busy. It was the last week of May, Summer was just around the corner and you yearned for the joy the season brings. At the same time, shaking off the feelings that came with the isolation was not an easy feat. He cheated on you with your best friend, after all! You tell yourself he doesn’t deserve your tears, but it takes time to erase things like that.

You are lonely and confused, angry to feel the way you felt. Grieving the youth you’re giving away while staying at home. So, on that night of May, you did what you should’ve done 2 years ago. You got your blue journal, a pencil, bursted your earbuds with the saddest songs you could find, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you wrote.

The words spilled from your mind to the paper, a letter addressed to the one who made you feel like this. How you met, how you became friends, the moment you realized you loved him. The memories you wanted to erase flowing so easily through your hands. The story was kept in your head for so long, suffocating you a little bit every day, it was like you could exhale for the first time. How you missed this!

You were so focused on revisiting all of the moments to write, that you didn’t check the time. It was late, so late. And you needed to sleep now if you wanted to have energy for the long day of teaching you had ahead of you.

You checked the amount of words you’ve written. Seven pages. It was still just the beginning. Your eyes were red and wet and you got yourself a headache. As cathartic as it was to write like this, it had left you with zero to no energy to keep going. As you were embraced by your sleep, you wished the part of your brain that processed traumatic experiences just did its job.

That night, you dream of a man and a piano.

Not exactly a piano, it was more like a keyboard.

All you could see was that he was making music.

The room was compact, so much it didn’t look like a room. “Maybe he’s camping”, you thought. There was a bunk bed and a tiny table underneath it, which was where he was working with a yellow notepad and pencil positioned close to the laptop. His pale skin was in contrast with the black straight hair covering part of his face. Still, you were able to see some of his facial expressions. He was so concentrated in his craft, long fingers testing notes in the mini keyboard connected to his laptop.

You wish you could listen to the melody he is so focused on, he was clearly showing signs of conflict, while listening to it on his headphones. He throws his head back and breathes loudly, like he needs a break, the hair moves out of his face and you can see his eyes now. Deep, dark, catlike eyes.

Oh God. He 's beautiful.

You could feel a pull, an inexplicable warmth inside of you… You were curious about him. You were curious about the circumstances. Why were you consciously dreaming about a man you have never seen in your life? Why aren’t you in this dream? How could he fascinate you so much in minutes?

A door opens and there’s light in the room. You hear a voice speaking a language you don’t understand. You hear a deep voice, his voice, replying in the same language. Then, everything goes black.

You were pulled out of the dream, eyes open, back in your room, but with remains of the comforting warmth inside of you.

It stayed with you the whole day, just like the memory of the boy making music.

That night, the crying is not that loud, your writing process still hard, but not unbearable.

You were still tired, still heartbroken. The routine was the same.

But there was that warm feeling in your chest. And as your head touches the pillow in the middle of the night, you hope to dream of him again.

>>> Next Chapter