#We went to the store and bought enough pencils for the whole class and she's going to give everyone a pencil

[nyrandrea]

Setting The Stage

My hyperfixation is set back on fnaf again in anticipation for Security Breach, so I’ve decided to write my own interpretation on how the game might begin! 

Summary: Gregory had always dreamed of going to Freddy Faxbear’s Mega Pizza Plex and meeting his heroes. But he somehow ends up getting more than he bargained for, and dreams start to turn into nightmares.

Originally planned as a oneshot but had to split it into two parts.Link to next chapter is down below! Also available to read on AO3 here!

Enjoy!

Walking into Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizza Plex for the first time was something that every kid in the world should experience, at least according to Gregory’s logic. 

And it was that logic – and a lot of puppy dog looks – that just about managed to work on his mom. Because here he was, finally standing in front of the colorful neon sign with his favorite animal mascots welcoming him in.  

It had taken a lot of begging and guilt-tripping but he wasn’t ashamed one bit, though his mother might have disagreed, especially when it came to the snivelling part. But hey, it wasn’t his fault she had worked late on his birthday, so she owed him. Big time. 

He vaguely recalled her grumbling about having to dip into her savings for this trip. 

So that meant that he only had today, and he had to make every second count. 

“So...” a voice spoke up from behind him. “Am I finally forgiven?” 

Gregory looked up to see his mom giving him ‘the look’, and to that he nodded profusely.  

“Good. After today you can finally leave me in peace,” she said, giving his hair a playful ruffle as they walked through the large sliding doors and into the mall. 

He decided to push it just a little bit further. 

“Can I get a Freddy plushie?” 

The little boy swore he could hear a vein pop. 

“I already bought tickets for the meet and greet. Do you know how much those cost me?” 

He shrugged. 

“A lot, and it’s coming out of your college fund.” 

“What if I don’t wanna go to college?” 

“Maybe you won’t get to after today,” she replied, rubbing at her temples. “Fine. I’ll give you ten dollars and you can buy yourself something at the store when we’re done, alright?” 

That was enough to cover a pencil, maybe an eraser as well if he haggled. But he didn’t argue.  

Both Gregory and his mom were suddenly blinded when they entered into the main part of the building as bright neon lights bounced off of the high glass ceiling and right into their retinas. Only once they were able to adjust their eyes could they really absorb the true grandeur of the place. 

Everywhere you looked there were people: from tired-eyed parents trying to find the next thing to distract their kids to enthusiastic parents who wanted to get involved in everything their kids were doing while filming it on their phone for their blogs. Then there were the snot-nosed teens who were bunking off school and several professional shopping guides with forced smiles wider than Moondrop and Sunrise’s combined. Everyone seemed to move in unison as the hall was filled with the sound of shoes squeaking against the polished checkered floors. 

Topping it all off was a massive gleaming golden statue of Glamrock Freddy proudly posed right in the center, singing silently into the microphone as soft music and wacky adverts played in the background. 

Suddenly Gregory felt very small. 

“It sure is...big, isn’t it?” His mother said, not sounding so confident herself. 

He merely nodded in agreement. 

Her son-o-meter seemed to be finely tuned as ever as she gently grasped Gregory’s shoulder and gave him a light but reassuring shake. 

“C’mon now,” she tenderly prodded. “We’ve got all day to enjoy the place so let’s make the most of it, huh? It’s not every day we get to go to Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizza Plex.” 

This was true. Coming here had once been only but a dream. Now he was here, staring up at a brilliantly shining statue of Glamrock Freddy. And pretty soon he was going to be meeting the bear himself. 

His hand absently went to towards his back-pocket before he made a fist as determination washed over him. Looking up at his mom, he nodded. 

“And if I’m remembering right, I think I know the first thing on your to-do list.”  

The boy had already grabbed her hand as he made a beeline for their first activity. 

“To Fazer Blast!” 

 xxx

Trying to imitate the pose of the Roxanne cut-out that was behind the reception desk, Gregory pointed his laser blaster at his mom as she attempted to fit on his vest. 

“Could you stop fidgeting?” 

“But I’m practicing-” 

“Stop. Fidgeting.” 

He pouted before she struck him with that look again, which he pretended not to notice as he gazed up towards the lady at the reception desk. She looked about in her twenties and was using one hand to push back her long sleek black locks away from her face every five seconds while her other hand typed lazily on a screen. 

“So...do I just join a team or...?” 

It took her a moment to even register that he was talking to her before she flicked her hair back again just to glare down at him. 

“Sure, like, do what you want. It’s your game, you make the rules.” 

She seemed to pause for a moment. 

“You do, like, know the rules, right?” 

Gregory wasn’t sure how to respond to that.  

“Uh...sure?” 

“Fantastic,” she drawled as she focused her attention back to her tablet. “Your session ends in fifteen minutes.” 

His mother rolled her eyes and muttered something about, “kids these days”, but soon smiled and took Gregory’s shoulder as she walked him in. 

“Just remember to have fun, alright? Screw the rules.” 

“Really?” Gregory asked, his toothy grin twisting into something sinister as he got into the Roxanne pose again.  

“Just...don’t run and remember to stay within the walls,” she added on quickly. “Can’t have my little space man getting lost now, can I?” 

Gregory made a sound of disgust as he was pulled in for a kiss before she finally let him loose into the brightly colored arena. He couldn’t help but take a moment to stare up in awe as spotlights of purple, green and red shone upon the various props and fixtures that decorated the place. 

 In the center was a giant space rocket that was surrounded by planets with neon rings glowing around them. The cut-outs from reception were scattered about too, though now they were humongous. Gregory almost couldn’t help but salute the towering Freddy as he walked past. 

He also noticed a room near the back walls. It was raised up to overlook the whole arena and was surrounded by green-lit pillars. It fit in with the theme of the room but also...jarringly stood out. Maybe it was a place for parents to watch their kids play, or perhaps the employees? 

“Hey Grogery!”  

That voice. That name struck fear into his chest as he swirled around to face a group of boys that had aimed their blasters right at him. 

“Never thought we’d see you here,” the biggest one said with a smirk. “You sneak in through the gutters or something?” 

“Hey... Bob,” Gregory casually greeted. Though it was hard to act so suave when he was trembling. 

“It’s Rob.” 

“Rob! Yeah...cool to see you too.” 

Learning the names of his bullies from class had never been at the top of Gregory’s to-do list, but then again it hadn’t been at the top of theirs either, clearly. But God, why did they have to be here of all places? Of all days, even? 

“Nah, his mom probably got him in here with all that hooker money she earns!” The skinny one snorted, making them all burst out into laughter. 

“She works at the hospital,” Gregory weakly argued. 

“Not what my dad said!” Rob hollered, still rubbing tears from his eyes. 

“So, what, is your dad cheating on your mom?” He sniped back with a sneer of his own. 

His grin soon disappeared though when they all suddenly stopped laughing and a beat of silence followed, save for the distant laser blasts sounding off around them. 

“The hell did you just say to me?” Rob asked, his voice dangerously quiet. If his brows knitted together any tighter then those pimples on the bridge of his nose might pop at any given moment. Gregory grimaced at the very thought. 

“N-nothing! Um...I mean- it's technically not cheating if your parents are divorced, right?” 

Rob positioned the blaster in his hand not so much as to aim it, but rather throw it. 

“Like I said, my mom wouldn’t even do that!” 

The pimples popped. 

With that, Gregory legged it before the gun could smack him in the face. He dashed between the walls as the angry voices behind him grew distant, he almost felt bad as he climbed through the holes and bumped past people, but hey it was like his mom said, screw the rules, right? 

However, it looked like the rules were starting to screw him when he smacked into a dead end. The black wall was too high for him to jump over and the only way out would be to re-trace his steps, which meant... 

“C’mon Grogery!” Rob’s voice taunted through the luminous hall. “Let’s see how many knocks to the head you can take before you bleed.”  

The boy swallowed a hard lump down his throat as he backed himself up against the wall and looked up at the Roxanne cut-out that towered above him, aiming her blaster with such confidence and attitude. With a deep breath and a firm nod, he did the same with the hope that getting them disqualified might save him. 

If not, at least his mom was a first-aider. 

“Hey...” A soft, almost girlie voice laced with a mechanical tone called out. “In here.”  

Gregory’s head snapped to the right as a hand – or was it a paw? – beckoned him into a dark corner. 

“Hurry up...!” The voice urged, and before Gregory could question anything, he saw four shadows creep around as the sound of footsteps thundered towards him, forcing him to make a snap decision and dive into the darkness, getting caught by a pair of skinny, furred arms. 

“Shit, where did he go?” Rob shouted as the group gathered where Gregory had been standing just seconds before.  

“Looks like he dropped his blaster,” one of them said as he picked it up. “Maybe he climbed the wall?” 

There was a sudden yelp as Rob smacked him upside the head. 

“Don’t be so fucking stupid, he’s tiny. No way in hell he’d be able to scale that.” 

Gregory stiffened as Rob suddenly turned in his direction, but he felt the stranger put a hand on his head, and strangely enough, it calmed him down. 

“...C’mon, he’s gotta be around here somewhere,” Rob finally said, pulling the group away. “He can’t hide forever.” 

After a few moments of waiting, Gregory let out a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding. 

“Bullies are just the worst, huh?” 

Almost jumping out of his skin at the sudden chipper voice cutting through the tense atmosphere like a knife, he glanced up with wide eyes as the figure gave him a little pat on the head.  

This was obviously a girl but with the shadows enveloping her it was hard to tell exactly...what she was.  

He could make out a pair of tall ears so...a rabbit? Gregory couldn’t remember any animatronics other than Freddy, Chica, Monty and Roxanne, as well as Moondrop and Sunrise. Was this a new character? 

But what kind of bunny would have such piercing red eyes? 

“My name’s Vanny,” she greeted. “What’s yours?” 

Feeling slightly relieved that she had finally let him go, he cautiously stepped out and looked around to make sure he was in the clear before turning to face her.  

“...Gregory,” the boy timidly answered, still feeling a bit unnerved.  

“What a swell name! It’s nice to meet’cha,” she said with a small bow, which unveiled a few more features like a bright blue bow tied around her neck, and an unnaturally wide toothy grin plastered on her patched face.  

What’s more, she didn’t exactly move like a robot, despite sounding like one. 

“Are you new?” Gregory asked, causing Vanny to tilt her head. 

“Huh?” 

“I’ve never seen you in the show before and...” he paused, knowing his words had already gotten him in trouble today. 

“And what?” she prodded. 

“Well...you don’t really look like an animatronic.” 

“That’s because I’m not!”  

Gregory flinched at her overly cheerful tone and stepped back as she kneeled down to his level. 

“Can I let ya in on a little secret?” Vanny asked, cupping her hand to her mouth in a poorly disguised whisper. 

“Sure...?” 

“I wanna be in the show. Like, I really really wanna be in the show. That’s why I made this,” the rabbit gestured to herself in an overly dramatic way; caressing her ears and cupping her face. “But I gotta prove myself first.” 

“Prove yourself?” 

“Yup!” 

Gregory raised an eyebrow when she didn’t elaborate further, but decided to put it to rest as he really wanted to get out before Rob and his goons came back. 

“I know a shortcut outta here,” Vanny offered with a tilt of the head, as if reading his mind. “Just take a couple of rights and a left and you’ll be as right as rain! Want me to show you?”  

“T-that’s okay, I should be good,” Gregory replied with a smile, though it slowly turned into a frown when she didn’t answer back, choosing instead to just...stare at him, her head still tilted, almost as if she were deep in thought. 

“But...thanks anyway...?” he weakly offered. 

This seemed to snap her out of her trance as she nodded vigorously. 

“No problem! And don’t worry, if those bullies come back, I’ll give ‘em a dose of Moondrop’s sleepy candy. That oughta slow ‘em down!”  

He had heard of that stuff, but couldn’t for the life of him understand why kids would want candy that would put them to sleep. Nevertheless, he nodded and thanked her again before turning, and hurrying away, a soft giggle echoing behind him. 

 xxx

“Where on earth have you been? It’s been thirty minutes!” 

Gregory was still a little shaken up by the time he had reached the exit, so much so that he had forgotten that he had been on a time limit. 

“Sorry, mom...” Gregory muttered sheepishly as she looked him over. 

“You didn’t answer my question.” 

Glancing back towards the arena, he tried to see if he could spot Rob’s gang still wandering about in there. 

“Did you see a group of guys come out by any chance? Older than me. Kinda ugly...” 

“Now you’re answering my question with a question,” his mother said with a sigh. “But no. Why? Did something happen?” 

“No!” he blurted out, making her give him that look again. “We were just...having so much fun but then I uh...I lost them. Just wondering if they left without me or something.” 

Her expression softened a little. He hated when she did that. 

“No, sweetie...but I’m sure they won’t be far, should we go look for them?” 

Gregory grabbed her hand and started pulling her away. “It’s fine! The show’ll be starting soon, right? We can’t miss it!” 

“Okay, okay...!” she chuckled as he dragged her. “But first we need to hand your blaster in.” 

He stopped then, inwardly cursing at himself before smiling sheepishly up at his mom as she narrowed her eyes at him. 

“You lost it, didn’t you.”  

Her tone suggested that it wasn’t a question. 

“Yep.” 

He yelped when she was suddenly the one dragging him away. 

“Well, we best make ourselves scarce then, besides we can’t miss your big show, right?” 

Gregory grinned. “Screw the rules?” 

She smiled back. “Screw the rules.” 

 xxx

They had made it to the main stage before the show began, but there were already big crowds congregating near the front to get the best view, and Gregory was having none of it. 

His mom kept apologizing to the angry faces and pointed looks as he towed her through the mass of people to get to the front, ignoring her when she grumbled about having to teach him some social skills. 

Gregory drowned everything else in the auditorium out as his wide brown eyes focused on the stage, even trying to balance up on the tips of his toes to get any kind of glimpse of brown, green, pink or purple. He had waited so long for this moment, and nothing more mattered than the next hour. 

Gregory wasn’t ashamed to admit that he squealed a little when the lights died down, it was just as well that every other kid in the auditorium screamed too, resulting in the kind of high-pitched noise that would make a banshee cringe. 

“Hello ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls!” A mechanical voice greeted over the speakers. “Welcome to Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizza Plex! Are you all having a fantabulous time?”  

The crowds erupted once more. 

“Rockin’!” Gregory gasped as a rough female voice took over. "Y’all ready to get your glam on?!”  

“Oh Roxanne...” a more feminine tone scolded. “Now you’ve given us away. Again.”  

Gregory’s smile grew wider, he knew this whole skit, next up would be- 

"I think we’ve kept ‘em waiting long enough, gals,” a graveled voice boomed out from the speakers. "Whaddya say, Freddy? Should we give the kids what they want?”  

The little boy almost couldn’t contain himself at this point. 

“I say let’s rock out!”  

The curtains suddenly swung open to reveal the animatronics in all their shiny, glittering glory.  

They were all 80’s themed, of course, to fit in with the aesthetic of the mall. Glamrock Chica had the typical pink leotard with green leopard print leg warmers; very popular with the girls. Roxanne Wolf was more unconventional with a striking red outfit, piercings and the mascot for the mall’s race course; she appealed to quite a wide range of people. Montgomery Gator was more for the chads as he had a rough and tough attitude with a love of golf, but Gregory did admire his red mohawk and star-shaped shades. 

Then there was Glamrock Freddy. The mascot of the Pizza Plex. He didn’t really have a gimmick as such but was incredibly popular just for how great he was with the children. The other animatronics were good with kids but Freddy was the one who seemed to pay the most attention to them, whether it be sitting down and listening to a kid’s story, accepting gifts from them to even giving them gifts of his own free will – mostly a plushie of himself. 

Management were irked by this odd behavior at first but when they saw how much cash he was raking in from meet and greets alone, they decided to leave it. Why fix it if it ain’t broke, right? 

As they burst into their first song, with Freddy singing into his mic stand and the other three playing keytars, Gregory didn’t even notice when his mother shook his shoulder and told him that she would have to take a phone call but would be back as soon as she could. There were some instructions on where to meet if she didn’t make it back by the time the show was finished but the words fell on deaf ears as he bounced and sang along to the lyrics he had spent so painstakingly long to learn. 

By the fourth or fifth song, the crowds had started to dissipate as parents took their children away to browse some more shops or to go to the food court for lunch, but Gregory stayed until the very end, cheering and whooping when the animatronics did their final encore and bowed as the curtains were drawn to a close. 

Fearing his chest might explode from excitement, the boy took a few moments to breathe as he tried to calm down from the buzz of electricity that was jolting through his body. The past hour had gone and went so fast that he could hardly process any of it, all he knew was that it had been the happiest moment of his life.  

With a huge grin, he watched as the robots were escorted off stage by staff and taken to their individual show rooms for their meet and greet sessions. Lines were already starting to grow long. 

It was only then that Gregory realized that his mother was gone. He looked around with a frown, she had said something about a phone call but...that had been half an hour ago now. 

‘She must be waiting at the show room for me,’ Gregory concluded, beaming at the thought of finally meeting his hero in the flesh. Or...plastic. 

Shaking his head, he made a beeline past Chica’s room, where mostly little kids were sitting on the floor watching the animatronic as she played them a song while others had started a food fight with the leftover pizza and soda cans that had been lying around the room, making the parents and staff grimace as they tried to break it up. 

Monty’s room was a little more organized and catered more towards older children as the gator showed them how to get a hole in one with a little golf stand while others played on the arcade machine. This reminded Gregory that the golf course was next on his list. 

Roxanne’s room was very high energy as the wolf raced around with the other kids with driving wheels in their hands while making engine noises. Though when one tripped up, she immediately halted and gently picked the child up, reassuring him that “Even the most rockin’ superstars get hurt sometimes!” and carried him into the back area to where the medical staff resided with a worried mother in tow. 

Stopping to catch his breath, Gregory finally made it to Freddy’s room, gaping slightly when he saw the queue nearly reaching the end of the walkway. He couldn’t even see inside due to the mass of people gathered at the curtains, forcing him to back up a bit and climb up on a bench just to be able to get a look in. 

The room was painted red and blue to fit in with Freddy’s color scheme and decorated with bright lightning bolts and portraits of the bear himself. It was also the least cluttered as there were only a few bowling bowls, party hats and – of course – plenty of plushies to give away. But what caught Gregory’s eyes were the assortment of colorful drawings that had been halfhazardly pinned to the wall next to the make-up mirror. 

It was true then; he really did collect kids' drawings! 

Reaching into his own back-pocket, Gregory pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and opened it up, smiling a little when he looked upon his own masterpiece. All the animatronics were singing on a stage on top of the whole world, with Freddy towering over them wearing a crown and rainbow cape because why not?  

It had taken him hours and an absurd number of crayons that he had ‘taken’ from his classroom, so a selfish part of him hoped that Freddy would pin it above the rest. 

A flurry of movement in the crowd suddenly caught Gregory’s attention as the stewards moved them aside to let the animatronic move in. He felt himself get giddy when the bear greeted everyone and gave them a sign of the horns with his clawed hand, to which all the kids mimicked, including Gregory from all the way in the back. 

As the queue started to move along, Gregory couldn’t help but start to feel impatient. Where was his mom? He thought she knew how important this was to him. 

Forgiveness was suddenly starting to come in very short supply. 

With a cross of the arms and a small pout, he watched as Glamrock Freddy took photographs, played with kids and even recognized a regular and accepted a drawing from her, praising her for becoming more talented every day. 

Gregory’s chest tightened up a little at that. 

Frowning down at his own scribbles, he didn’t even notice the tall figure hiding behind the golden statue of Roxanne that was trying to get his attention. 

“Hey...! Hey Gregory!” A familiar voice hissed. 

Startled, he turned to see that tall rabbit lady from earlier waving and beckoning him over. Blinking, he took a moment to look around to see if anybody else had seen her, half-wondering if she was some kind of hallucination at this point. When she beckoned again, he tentatively walked over. 

Once again, she was hidden in the shadows, but the overhead lights made it a little easier to see more details of the suit, like the stitches that barely held the mismatched creams and beiges together along with a few patches of crosshatched red. It was like the whole thing had just been thrown together. 

“Uh...hey...”  

It took him a moment. 

“Vanny?” 

She gasped and gleefully put her hands up to her grinning mouth. 

“You remembered!”  

He forced a grin, trying to ignore the bristling hairs on the back of his neck. 

“Sure.” 

She paused and knelt down. 

“What’s wrong? You look a bit down.” 

This caught him by surprise. 

“Huh? No, I’m fine. Just...waiting.” 

Glancing back, he could see the crowds starting to dwindle as time went on, but still no sign of his mother. 

“Ooh! What’s that?” 

He looked down to where she was pointing and held up the piece of paper that he had been clutching a little too hard. 

“It’s...um...just a drawing I made...for...Freddy,” he meekly replied, his cheeks heating up. 

“Oh wow! Can I see?” 

The very question he was afraid of. But she was already holding out her hand, so he couldn’t just say no. 

She seemed to study it very closely when Gregory handed it over. He started to wonder if she was having to squint through the costume’s red eyes just to be able to see it. 

“This is so good, Gregory!” She gushed, holding it up as if to show it off to everybody else in the mall. “You’re super talented! Are you gonna be an artist when you grow up?” 

He looked down in embarrassment but couldn’t help but smile at the compliment. Despite how weird this lady was, she actually seemed pretty nice.  

“Um...I dunno. I like drawing so...maybe.” 

“You should definitely show it to Freddy, I bet he’d love it!” 

Gregory perked up at that, but frowned again as he looked back over to the show room. 

“I want to but I can’t yet.” 

“Why not?” Vanny asked. “Ya nervous?” 

That was true but he wasn’t about to admit it.  

“My mom has the ticket for the meet and greet but...she had to take some kinda phone call and hasn’t come back yet.” 

“Hasn’t...come back,” she repeated. 

As Gregory watched kids and parents come and go, he hadn’t noticed that Vanny was staring right at him until the silence between them grew uncomfortably long. But as he turned back to look at her, she stood up and offered her hand. 

“I know a way you can give it to him.” 

A little perturbed by her sudden shift in tone; he looked at her hand but didn’t take it. 

“Uh...how?” 

“The VIP room, silly!” She said, her chirpy voice returning once more. “You know that one up at Fazer Tag? I saw you looking at it earlier.” 

The one that was high up, he remembered. But... had she been watching him that whole time? 

“That’s where Freddy and the others go for the secret meet and greets, where they give you their undivided attention.” 

Gregory raised an eyebrow. 

“I... didn’t even know that was a thing.” 

“That’s cuz it’s secret!” 

Okay, well that made sense. 

“Usually only the rich kids get to go there but I think you’re much more deserving, Gregory,” she said, holding out her hand once again. “You only get today, right?” 

The boy looked over once more. Freddy was waving goodbye to the last of the children as the stewards drew the curtains. He had missed his chance. 

He looked back up at Vanny. 

“What about my mom?” 

The rabbit tilted her head. “I’ll notify the staff so they can let her know, then she’ll come pick you up when you’re ready, okay?” 

There was a moment of hesitation but he knew she was right. He only had today and nothing was going to stop him from getting what he wanted. 

Screw the rules.  

With a nod, Gregory took her hand and let her lead him away to the Fazer Tag arena, not noticing that his drawing had slipped from her grip and she had let it fall into a crumpled ball as they walked away. 

xxx

So let me know what y’all think! Would you like to see a part 2? :D

Edit: Part 2 is now available here!

[justthatamount]

I am exhausted so let me tell you about the dragon hoard of coins.

Ok so for context on this: my family was struggling with generational poverty up until I was like 10ish. This meant that we picked up a LOT of little habits that people who didn't have that don't got.

One of these houses are the Folgers can hoards. So back when I was little my family had access to a Costco card (which was a godsend it was my uncle's for his business but we used it all the time). This meant we could get a LOT of necessities for cheap. Specifically Folgers coffee is important to this story.

The cans look like this and are huge.

So rather than buying like having to buy more Tupperware we used these things as storage. To my knowledge there is still like 3 of them around the house. Now obviously we needed every penny we could get! So one of them got a big rectangle cut in the top and where used to save coins. This meant we could collect and then turn it in at the bank for free and would have more cash on hand. It was one of the many things we did to struggle just a little less. Other things included my mother sewing most of our clothes with the sewing machine left over from the business she used to run, as well as growing food over the summer, and hand making soap (some of the leftover handmade soap is ALSO stored in a Folgers can).

Anyway when we reached like middle/upper middle class standing the coin collecting didn't stop. Except we stopped turning it in. During the Covid coin shortage my Father turned in one of those tins. The other day I came across another one and brought it to the bank with my Father to get sorted. I am not even joking it was a little more than $250 worth of coins. Plus the non-American money mixed in. (Dominican republic surprisingly, we also have Irish and Canadian money scattered around the house).

To be fair my family does not only hoard coins. Other necessities are too, things like fabric (we have 3 or 4 sewing machines my mother doesn't sew anymore), soap, school supplies (at least 500 unused pencils, along with notebooks, folders, and highlighters), seeds that type of stuff. Actually because of these tendencies during the whole toilet paper shortage at the beginning of Covid my parents figured out what was going to happen ahead of time and went "might as well" so we never ran out. (They only bought enough for 5 people to last a few months which is not a lot added to what we already had).

Either way my dad complained about me getting rid of his dragon hoard.

[yikesharringrove]

Hello! i don’t think i’ve given you any of my weird headcanons in a hot minute so here’s a new favorite! Steve with ADHD, at first nobody notices it, he gets along well enough as a young kid people just think he has an active imagination, when in real it y he just can’t pay attention. He’s in 5th grade when his teacher pulls him out of class and tells him he needs to start paying attention, Steve almost starts crying as he tries to explain to her that he just can’t, that it doesn’t work (pt.1)

(pt.2) so the teacher tells him to stay back after class that day, he totally forgets and almost ends up leaving just further probing her suspicions. She asks him to extol in what he means, he doesn’t know what to say, says that too many things are happening for him to pay attention in class, and that sometimes if he hears another teacher he’ll end up listening to that, or if he can look out a window he’ll get distracted, and she already knows what’s going on, calls his parents for a meeting

(pt.3) So his mom comes in, his dad “could make it” but that works out for steve because his mom actually gets him tested, and his test comes back positive so he has to take meds now and sure his grades aren’t the best but they are so much better and he can actually sit in class and focus, but randomly in his sophomore year tommy finds the pills and makes fun of him and he gets so embarrassed that he just stops taking them, and his grades drop bad and he can’t focus and he feels like shit 

(pt.4) he goes around like that for a while feeling lost and distracted but refusing to take his meds and be lame, he only starts taking them again after nancy breaks up with him because he needs to focus on something that isn’t the break up, but they aren’t working well which is to be expected he hasn’t taken them in more then a year, so he ends up totally freaking out and that’s how billy finds him, sitting on the bathroom floor with the WORST headache he’s ever had and he takes pity on him

(pt.5) billy and steve were kind of friends after the fight they had talked and worked things out, not super close but enough to not be so weird around each other anymore, so billy takes him home and makes sure he gets new meds and makes sure he keeps taking them and on days when he can tell steve is space and distracted and clearly forgot he’ll drive to his house and make him take them, and steve will bitch and moan but he actually loves that someone cares enough to make sure he’s ok

(optional pt.6) billy realizing he really likes steve when steve is talking about a special interest and getting super happy and he just can’t help but feel in love with him (is this totally based off my expletive with adhd? yes it is! is this the exact way my hug said she realized she love me? yes it is 🥰)

Hi! I have another one of your AMAZING headcanons in my drafts still, I’m working on it I’m sorry I’m the slowest writer ever.

So, I think I’ve said this, but ADHD makes A LOT of sense for Steve. I don’t have ADHD, so I’m sorry if this is in accurate, I did some research, didn’t want this to be like, bad.

Also, I put him on Ritalin for timing purposes and bc it can cause panic attacks. 🤷‍♀️ and his favorite animals are giraffes, goats and lobsters, 3 of my favorite animals.

Read on ao3

When Steve was little, he could never focus on something for longer than ten minutes.

He would be running through the house, leaving toys on the ground when he remembered a game he could play in another room. His nannies would roll their eyes, picking up after him.

When he got to school, it was more of the same. He would get distracted by every bird that he could see outside. He would be in the middle of class, the teacher would say something about giraffes and his mind would race about animals, would think about every country in Africa he could name, would think about whether or not Lithuania was in Africa.

His grades would slip, tests were a nightmare when he got caught up watching a bee buzzing near the window, only to realize he had answered three questions and only had eleven minutes left.

He was always a poor student, until fifth grade.

Mrs. Wilson had called him up after class, had noticed him zoning out and was about to chide him when she noticed the tears in his eyes.

“I just, I don’t know what happens, sometimes, my thoughts go too fast for my own brain and I can’t focus.” He was sniffling across from her.

“Steve, I’m going to have a chat with your parents. You’re not in trouble, but I think we can help you.” She smiled as she pat his shoulder, letting himself get collected before going to his next class.

She called his parents in at the end of the day, his mother sitting in the seat next to Steve, the principal joining them.

“I’ve noticed some trends in Steve’s school work and his presence in class. We think it may be in his best interest to test him for attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. We feel that pinpointing the problem for him may be more helpful moving forward.

Mrs. Harrington agreed, waved her hand in a way that said she was bored of the conversation. Steve spent the whole next Saturday going through various tests, was wrung dry by the end of the day, but left with a clear diagnosis.

He began taking a low does of Ritalin, began focusing in class. His grades skyrocketed, getting the very first B+ he had ever gotten on his English essay.

He was okay until sophomore year.

He was an okay student, could focus in class, but not necessarily retain or understand the information.

But then Tommy found the pills, had laughed at him and called him retarded, the word that had haunted him his whole life, spat at him by the father that didn’t care about him.

So he flushed the pills, never refilled his prescription.

His grades slipped immediately. He wasn’t able to focus in class, had gone back to the days of staring out the window and getting confused about why it was called a square root.

He was constantly moving, would bounce his leg, would tap his pencil, would sometimes take the hall pass and just walk.

He knows taking his meds would fix the problem, but he had Nancy know, didn’t want her to know this weakness of his, this shameful secret.

But then he didn’t have Nancy, and his thoughts were racing, jumping from Nancy to demodog to Barb to Billy to his dad to Nancy to demodog to Barb to Billy to his dad to Nancy to-

He broke down February of senior year.

Graduation was soon as Steve’s grades were ass. He needed to focus on something that wasn’t Nancy, demodog, Barb, Billy, his dad. So he filled his old prescription, took the same does he had two years ago and went to school.

When he was first put on the meds, he was told panic attacks and anxiety could be a side effect. He had never experienced that before, but now, now he lived in constant anxiety, and with his Ritalin, he was a mess.

He had locked himself in the bathroom above the gym, the one nobody uses. He was on the floor, trying to ground himself against the wall, trying to think of anything other than Nancy, demodog, Barb, Billy, his dad, Nancy, demodog, Barb, Billy, his dad, Nancy, demodog, demodog, demodog, demodog-

“Pretty Boy?”

Billy was in front of him, eyebrows furrowed as he looked at Steve.

“B-Billy?”

“You okay? You’re kinda, kinda losin’ it.”

“I, I went off my meds for a, a few years, and I put myself back on them, and it’s, I, I know it’s lame, but they usually help and now-” he sobbed as Billy pulled him into his chest, soothing him softly.

“What meds?”

“Ritalin. It’s for, for ADHD.” Billy huffed a laugh.

“I fuckin’ knew it. The way you talk a mile a damn minute.” Steve’s heart sank. “And it’s not lame. Some peoples’ brains are just, wired different.”

Steve was starting to calm down, the anxiety shoving over into a raging headache. He groaned into Billy’s shoulder.

“What’s up?”

“Head hurts.”

“Want me to take you home.” Steve just nodded, his eyes squeezed shut. Billy drove him home, sat with him while Steve called his doctor, made an appointment for next weekend.

Steve had gotten a new medication, adjusted to his current state. The new meds were like magic, allowing Steve to focus when he needed, wouldn’t let him fall into hyperfocus on something that wasn’t productive. He finished senior year on a good note, with okay-enough grades to score his diploma.

He spent the summer at Scoops, working alongside Robin.

Billy came in every day. Would sit with him on Steve’s break. On the days Steve seemed more spaced, he would marrow his eyes, would say you didn’t take your meds today, would drive to Steve’s house to get them for him, would make sure he took them, would take drinks out of Steve’s hands at parties, would make sure he wouldn’t do anything to interfere with them, would dread the days he would find Steve nauseous from the meds.

Bonus:

Steve realized he was in love with Billy when he found out Billy starting keeping a small store of Steve’s meds in his car, would update them periodically to make sure they were safe, effective.

Billy realized he was in love with Steve when he was talking about every animal he could name. He showed Billy the small library of books he had bought for himself about animals, could explain the difference between kingdom, class, phylum, and genus. Was throwing out Latin names for his favorite animals, giraffa camelopardalis, capra aegagrus hircus, nephropidae. Billy couldn’t help himself, had just leaned over and kissed him, left Steve giggling as they made out.

[seanhtaylor]

Erosion

The breeze that blew the dust around seemed to whisper rumors that a storm was on its way. I’d only swept off about half of the porch, and I wasn’t even close to being finished yet; after the porch came the back storage room. Since I was just a few feet away the from the open doorway, I could hear Pa whistling, but the wall hid him from me. He’d done a lot of counting in there all week.

Big Bull stood silently on the porch, and watched intently as I worked. His stare never left. Never turned. Never stopped. It was as eternal as the thin flat frown the woodworker had given him. He had skin like rust mixed with mud, and his outfit was a rainbow montage of feathers and animal skins. The man who made him was an Indian too.

Three years ago, Pa had finally bought that store he’d always dreamed of owning. Nettle’s General Store was to Pa the culmination of years of hopes, and the end of the elusive vision that never materialized, yet had continued to tease him me mercilessly. Most of his time, free or otherwise, was spent in that store. Neither my mother, sister, nor I saw much of him after that, except sometimes for supper. Meticulously he’d walk each aisle of the small store and stoop to check every bin of merchandise, neglecting nothing at all. Every yarn or straw doll, knitted scarf, Mr. Goodbar, everything was accounted for and inventoried.

Dust flew and danced around me in the breeze while I swept. Every few minutes, whenever his counting brought him to where he could see me out front, Pa would yell out to me to get on with it, or to tell me that I missed a spot. He wasn’t a big man, but he had a big voice. Most of the time he just kept to himself, staying busy with his inventory list.

“Hey, Pa! You need any help counting them yarn dolls?” I yelled, hoping my words would sneak around the doorway to get his attention. “Miss Barnes says my adding’s about the best in the whole class.” I gave him a few seconds to show. “Hey, Pa! “

“What you yelling about now, Midge?” Midge was the nickname given to me by most of the other kids at the schoolhouse. Short for midget, it never let me forget that I was less, at least in stature, than my peers. It was the only name by which most folks in town knew me. “Say, you ain’t done with this porch yet? Dang, son... Quit fooling around with that Indian, and finish the porch.”

“Yes, sir.”

The wind played tag with the dust, and kept me sweeping twice as much as I should’ve just to get done. When I did finish, I gave my broom to Big Bull, leaning it beside his spear. He was surely a sight, that proud warrior, carrying a war spear firm and ready to fight, and there propped up was against him a ramshackle excuse for a broom. If only a real heart beat underneath that chest of oak, it would’ve burst wide open of humiliation.

“So... Who are we gonna get after today, Big Bull? Billy the Kid?”

Indian eyes gazed straight ahead, seeming to point visibly at a victim for the day. Up main street, like the naked emperor in that Hans Christian Anderson story, walked Kyle Lovett.

“Good idea...” I told Big Bull, “Good idea...”

* * *

“Hey Mee-uhge,” Kyle teased, dragging the nickname into two syllables, “You and your Indian chased any rustlers out of town today?”

Kyle stopped in the middle of the street to make sure I didn’t ignore the remark. He looked different than usual. Clean. Dressed in his Sunday suit. Even his brown, mangled hair was combed. He didn’t look like the same Kyle who had bloodied my nose two years ago.

I knew it was stupid to provoke him again, but I couldn’t help it. Besides, Big Bull was with me. “Kyle? Hey, Kyle? What you all dressed up for? Today ain’t Sunday, and there ain’t a funeral in town or nothing.”

“Look here, Midge,” he shook a fist at me, “What I wear is my own business, not yours, runt.”

That was the Kyle I was used to, no matter how he looked. That was the bully who had been responsible for getting me and Big Bull together in the first place. When he had pounded my nose, Pa had been busy in the back of the store, and my mother had been up visiting my aunt and uncle in Missouri, so where else had I to go but to the Indian? He didn’t tell me to hush up my racket, or that I was too big to cry. He had just listened and let me wet his feet and legs with my tears and the blood from my nose. By the time I’d finished, the swelling had gone down, and most of the bruises weren’t sore anymore. Pa had sure been mad though; the blood wouldn’t wash out, so my shirt had been pretty much ruined, and it was a gift from my cousins.

“I just wanted to know. Didn’t mean to make nothing of it.”

“Well, it ain’t none of your business anyhow... but if go telling everybody, I’ll get you like last time.” Satisfied, he spun around, facing away from the big Windham house at the edge of Chattville, and strutted off like the only rooster in a house full of hens.

* * *

Sometimes Big Bull and I would pass the afternoon hoping for a new General Motors’ car to drive by. Most people who owned a car had an older Model T from ten or twelve years ago. The Windhams owned the only General Motors’ vehicle in town, but they only got it out when they went out to another town. Mostly everybody walked since Chattville was so small.

Before Kyle’s dust could get a chance to settle, Molly Windham came skipping up the street, her red hair pulled off to the sides of her head in pigtails, each one bouncing without rhythm, beating softly on her neck.

“That you, Midge?”

Molly was fourteen, three and a half years older than I was, but it didn’t matter much. Especially standing there in her green party dress, made up like she was grown, not just a girl.

“Sure is.”

She bounced right up to the porch, grinning like the cat from Wonderland.

“Midge...”

“Uh-uh.”

“I just got the best news in the world.” Her lips were painted with bright red; they were two roses, growing on her face. “And I’m so excited I feel like kissing somebody.”

And she did. Molly Windham leaned over and stuck her two roses right on my forehead, and puckered like a fish.

I thought the stars had fallen from heaven, and were dancing around me.

While the stars danced, Molly twirled off the porch, and straight over to the dress-maker’s shop. She jangled the bell beside his door a few times, spinning and jangling, jangling and spinning, until Sam Miller finally came out and yelled something I couldn’t make out before pulling her inside. The echo from the bell drifted toward me and Big Bull.

“Did you see that!?”

The Indian didn’t answer, but I knew he was listening, and that he hadn’t missed any of it.

“Pa... Pa... Guess what!”

* * *

“You done with that porch yet?” Pa had come out to the screen door, tapping his pencil hard against that list of his. “There’s plenty more sweeping to be done inside.”

“Pa...”

He slipped his pencil into the front pocket of his work apron, and pulled his watch and chain from out of his pocket. As he flipped it open, he nodded, “Now, don’t ‘Pa’ me. You know it takes a lot of work to keep this place going. That means all of us.”

“But Lucy doesn’t have to.”

“Your sister’s busy enough taking care of your mother. She don’t have the time.”

“But...”

Pa was starting to get mad. His eyes narrowed like an Oriental man, and his ears began to turn a little red under where his hair was cut. “No excuses. First the back room, where the feed is. After that, we’ll see about letting you play some more with that Indian.”

He held the screen door open until I got the broom and drudged inside, dragging it with me. His eyes didn’t leave me until the door to the back room slammed shut behind me. I know. I peeked back out as he turned.

* * *

My wooden friend waited patiently while I swept out the back room. He hadn’t changed a single expression while I’d been gone. Just like always. He was there waiting.

“How much do you think flowers cost, Big Bull?”

I kept watching for Molly to leave Sam Miller’s shop. After a while nobody went in or came out anymore, but there was still no sign of Molly.

“Special flowers, I mean. Something better than I could pick out of somebody’s yard.”

Directly, Sam left the shop too, and locked the door behind him. He left two empty buckets outside the shop’s door like he always did, just in case anybody needed to borrow one late in the day. His brown suit pulled tight over his round frame making him look like a sausage with a lump in the middle.

“What kind of flowers do girls like now, anyway? They’re always so hard to please. That’s what Pa says. He ought to know... he’s known my mother a long time and all.”

Sam had to walk down by the store to get to his house, and as he waddled by, I waved to him and said hello.

“Well, if it ain’t little Midge. Say, you got you a girl for the dance next month? Surely your Pa and...” He made a face like he’d swallowed a horse. “Surely he’s gonna let you and your sister get out to it.”

“We ain’t so good at dancing, Mr. Miller.”

“I ain’t so good myself...” he said, and he was right. Round men who bounce when they walk looked twice as silly dancing. Even though he waltzed like a bag of potatoes, he always went. The girls said he made the best dancing gowns in the state. “But I wouldn’t miss seeing all the pretty girls in their new dresses I’ve made for them. Just today Molly Windham ordered one of the most difficult gowns I’ve ever had to put together. Old Man Windham said not to worry about how much it costs. It’s a dress-maker’s dream, Midge.”

“What color is it, Mr. Miller?”

“Color? It ain’t just any color, Midge. I’ve gotta order the cloth clean out of St. Louis.”

“They got different colors in St. Louis than here in Chattville?”

“No. Now don’t fool with an old man’s funny bone. It’s red, except it’s the same color red as Molly’s hair, lighter in spots, and shiny when the sun hits it right.” Sam pulled on a gold chain that disappeared into the fold-over of flesh and suit where his pocket should have been. Out flopped a gold pocketwatch. He opened it. “Mrs. Miller will be wondering were I am soon. Hope you get to go.”

I waved goodbye, and then when he was gone. “Roses. Red roses. The reddest we can find.”

I knew Big Bull approved.

* * *

Pa said no when I asked him about the flowers. I told him I’d work harder, and even stay away from the gumballs, but he still said no. That he was spending too much on the store already, and with my mother’s fever still not breaking, even though it had been two weeks.

* * *

The wind was picking up, turning a calm kiss-like breeze into a cold slap. Some papers announcing the dance floated across town in short hops, then flew on, bullet-like, when the stronger drafts got a hold of them.

The porch was warm underneath my weight, but when I touched it in a new place the wood was cold. The moisture on my hands would chill and then thaw in a fluid motion. I looked back at Big Bull.

“Sure was nice of old Joe to let me work for the flowers.”

I held the two flowers, roses, red as Molly’s fiery hair and the lips that had kissed me. They had cost me every cent I had plus a promise to work down at Old Joe’s flower shop once a week when I wasn’t helping Pa at the store. It was a high price, but worth it to see the look I knew would be on Molly’s face when I asked her to the dance.

It had seemed like hours until dusk came. Now that it was here, I could hardly wait. But the timing had to be perfect. I had to show up right after the dishes were put away. If I arrived early, the surprise would get lost in the clean-up shuffle; if I was too late, the effect would be interrupted by the family time around the radio listening to Amos and Andy.

“Wish me luck,” I said, and dashed from the porch.

Roses firmly in hand, I hurried down to the house at the edge of Chattville where Molly and her father lived (Her mother had died of tuberculosis when Molly was a baby). I could think only of my dream, my vision, waiting for me there in her red party dress, the fringes dancing in the evening breeze. My heart seemed not only to beat, but to pound with a steady, driving, big jazz rhythm like Benny Goodman or Louis Armstrong was directing its music. Time hardly passed at all, it seemed before I was there, suddenly staring at the heavy oak door.

Mr. Windham answered the door quickly after my small closed hand gathered the resolve to knock. His herringbone suit hung comfortably loose off of his tall thin frame. When he recognized me, his small mustache twitched and his eyes focused down onto mine.

“Why Midge, what a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?”

“Is Molly in, sir? I’d sure like to see her. I’ve got something for her.”

“Sure she is. Right in the den with...”

Kyle Lovett. Mr. Windham didn’t have to say it. I knew it the minute I walked in. He was sitting on the couch with Molly, holding her hand. How could she!? Didn’t she know what he was like? Kyle Lovett.

The roses were trampled underfoot as I choked on the anger rising in my throat, and ran away to Pa, dragging a cracked and tender heart behind me.

* * *

“Pa! Pa!” I pounded at the door with my small fists, knowing he would be locked away in the back office, listening to the clickety-clacks of the adding machine.

The sky had blackened while I had left Molly’s, and had given its first few drops to warn me that a big storm was coming. Rumbles sounded in the distance, but grew a little louder each time. If I’d had sense enough, I’d have let the winds blow me straight up the street to my house, safe from the weather.

“Pa! Please let me in. There’s a storm coming, Pa. Pa!”

As if it had waited for my announcement, the thunder and rain let loose on the earth like God was trying to punish us the way the Pastor down at the Missionary Church had said. The rain began to pelt down, soaking the dirt of the road, and beating it into a shallow layer of mud almost instantly. The papers that had been blown all over town were drenched and wrenched apart by the combined power of the wind and water.

Across the street was the wall of clay we all climbed on in the summer. At least we tried to climb it. It went about sixteen feet straight up, smooth as a polished stone. The only way to make it to the top was to take two pocket knives, and edge your way up, one jab at a time. Only the oldest and strongest boys ever made it all the way. The rest of us could hardly even stick the knives in the wall, since the clay was so hard and set.

Only, the storm washed it down to sixteen feet of mush pretty quickly. Anyone who tried to climb it now would probably drown in the river of wet clay eroding down the face of the wall.

The wind lifted Sam Miller’s two buckets, and sent one through the candy store window, and the other into the outside wall, where it dented and fell, waiting for another flight.

Although the porch kept me safe from most of the wind, it offered me no protection from the worst of the storm. The rain invaded in solid bullets of water, spreading out and joining together to make lakes and reservoirs that ran down between the cracks, only to be replaced by the new puddles that continued to build.

“Pa!” I yelled, but the thunder swallowed my cries. Big Bull stood firm. Since he was so heavy, the wind couldn’t shake him, not even a quiver. The rain soaked into the wood, but that only made him heavier, more secure. It also darkened the colors, and brought him closer to life.

Through the curtain of water, I saw every cut, every strain of artistry on Big Bull’s frame. In each carefully carved inch of his face, pain rested. His eyes were deep- set and sunken a little in sorrow, but somehow friendly in their darkness. The mouth was closed in an eternal silence, and the wrinkled carvings surrounding the flattened frown revealed a subdued bitterness that flamed, no doubt, beneath the painted exterior. Though he held only a single spear, his muscles were tensed and rigid, ready to answer the call to fight, eager. Big Bull captured well not only the hurt and anger of his people, but their strength as well.

So I hid from the storm.

The Indian’s figure kept me dry for the most part. Patches of rain managed every now and then to sneak around his legs and hit me, but I was separated from the worst part of the weather.

In time, the fury of the storm faded away. Its terrible threats and banshee screams died into quiet darkness. The sun had abandoned its post during the attack, leaving Chattville lighted only by the incandescent glow of random windows. Sleep, like a desire for death, found me, and I curled around Big Bull’s wooden feet.

* * *

“Midge... Midge... Get up. You’ll catch a death of cold out here.”

The blackness lifted from behind my mind and eyes, and I saw Pa trying to help me up.

“Pa...”

“Yeah, it’s me. What were you doing out here in the middle of that storm anyway? I thought you were home with your mother and sister.”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I reached for the handle of Big Bull’s spear, and used it to pull my worn-out body to a sluggish stance. Pa immediately reached out to keep me from falling again to the porch, but the spear supported me well enough.

“Let’s get you inside. I’ve got some hot cider going if you want some. It’ll sure help warm up your inards.”

I felt Pa’s overcoat as it was put around me to keep me from shivering. I expected it to engulf me, but it barely spread across my shoulders. He was a much smaller man than I had imagined.

© Sean Taylor

[milky-mochi]

eclipse | pjm

pairing: jimin × oc

genre: coffeeshop!au, forgotten first kiss!au

word count: 1.7k

summmary: he glowed like the moon, she burned like the sun; the night they collided was an eclipse neither of them were ready for.

---

today was a terrible day for jimin.

okay, maybe not the whole day. but the day at the coffeeshop had been so busy that jimin didn't have any time for a break. he got yelled at for a bit for being too soft (by a thirty-year-old woman, dressed in fur in the middle of autumn, so he really didn't know whether to laugh or to cry). he didn't have time to sit on the rocks behind the shop which led out into a small garden that only the employees knew about and only he used. he only got a two dollar tip the whole day, although it did make him smile that the tip was from the daughter of the lady who screamed at him.

it really, really, didn't help that there was a girl sitting at the bay window drawing to her heart's content by the window and the store was about to close. and that jimin couldn't hide behind jungkook and tell him to chase her out. jimin was going to have to chase her out himself.

he didn't want to. she looked peaceful. a girl around his age with long, chestnut hair draped over her white fuzzy sweater with black jeans. her sketchbook perched on top of her knees and a pencil clasped in her slim fingers, white earbuds in her ears. she had been sitting there the whole day. every day this whole week, actually. that night, she was probably waiting for the eclipse. she was drawing for hours on end, occupying that same bay window for the whole day. they couldn't chase her out because she did buy a caramel macchiato every hour. she even had 13 empty mugs on the table beside her bag (jimin counted).

literally, all jimin could do was hide behind the counter like a scared kitten, garnering the courage to ask this artistic lady to leave.

maybe i could show her my poetry. it's so bad it will make her scream and run away, jimin thought as he put away a mug. you know what, just do it jimin. just ask her to leave. you've been waiting for 30 minutes anyway, and your 21-year-old self still needs to catch gravity falls on Disney channel in an hour.

jimin inhaled, as quietly as he could, and put down the rag he was wiping the table with. his feet glided over the parquet floor and he ended up beside the girl.

"excuse me," he said.

the girl didn't look up from her drawing. jimin tapped her on the shoulders. "excuse me, miss?"

only when he tapped her shoulders did the girl look at jimin's bespectacled face and did jimin look at hers. and dear god, she was freakin' pretty. she had a button nose and eyes that glittered with moonlight fire, concealed by round spectacles that framed her face. she spoke in a cheery way after pulling her earbuds out of her ears, as if her art hadn't pulled her into a twelve-hour long daze. "sorry sir, did you need something?"

"i'm so sorry miss, i'm afraid it's past closing time- "

"oh my, how long have I made you wait?"

"20 minutes."

"oh my gosh i'm so sorry," she paused to look at his nametag, "jimin."

"i-it's no problem, miss. thank you for understanding." jimin nodded his head before walking towards the counter.

the girl started packing her things into her backpack before she stopped, hand about to stuff her pencils into her bag, and spun around to jimin. "wait, what did you say your name was?"

"jimin."

"in full?"

"park jimin."

"oh my gosh, jimin?" she gasped as she stood up. "like, from alexandria high?"

"yeah? wait how do you know- "

"jimin, it's me! chaeyoung! remember?"

"o-oh yeah, of course i do!"

of course he did. how could he forget park chaeyoung?

she was like the sun of alexandria high. everyone gravitated towards her. she radiated light whenever she opened her mouth. the girl who would give you her lunch money if you had none. the one who was greeted every 5 seconds when she walked down the halls. class president, leader of sport teams, head of every comittee she was in. the one who was homecoming queen every year. boys flocked to her but she always turned them down, the reason remaining unknown to this day. she seemed too perfect to be true.

she also happened to be jimin's crush of three years. must be exciting to be jimin.

they used to sit next to each other in math. they were partners for everything. it was pretty cliché; the guy who nobody knew falling for the girl who was essentially the centre of the school.

chaeyoung nudged jimin's shoulder. "how've you been?"

"take a guess," jimin retorted, gesturing to the cafe.

"shut up," chaeyoung rolled her eyes. "i read your poetry. you're doing pretty well."

oh no, jimin thought.

she read my poetry.

she. read. my. poetry.

yikes.

"oh haha, really?"

"yeah, i have your book at home. I thought your name looked familiar."

she bought my book? why?

"oh wow what's a huge compliment!" jimin rushed, trying to move on from the subject of his poetry. "you've been good, i'm guessing? your exhibit just opened."

chaeyoung chuckled. "yeah it's been great. a lot of alexandrians came. you should have come!"

"doubt it. no one knows me," jimin laughed. "plus i was working a shift that night. i have gone, though. your work was amazing."

"thank you, jimin," chaeyoung said. jimin swore her eyes twinkled in her words, and he felt the lovesick teenager in him threaten to reveal himself. "you should have called though. to meet for coffee or something? i could've shown you around."

"well," jimin picked at the sleeve of his sweater, "i didn't think you would remember me. no one did."

chaeyoung's eyes softened. "of course i remember you, jimin."

"didn't seem likely that you would. i only went to one party in my whole high school career."

"yeah i remember that party," chaeyoung said before looking out the window. "you kissed me that night."

hold up, i WHAT.

chaeyoung's eyes searched jimin's face but only found confusion. "you don't remember?"

i was obsessed with this girl for three years, and you're telling me I don't remember the night i kissed my crush? what drama is this?

"that night, i was drunk. shitless. it was the first time i had taken a drink, and i was wasted. that one guy whose name I can't seem to remember decided that he would take this chance to- god, i don't know what he was trying to do. probably like force himself on to me or something. anyway, i was walking away from him really fast, and suddenly you pulled me into this hallway which was out of sight- i also realise that is so you- and he walked right by. and... i think our faces were super close so, i don't know. you just kissed me."

god, i was SO dumb.

"oh wow."

"funny how the drunk one remembered, but not the sober one," chaeyoung laughed.

"maybe i can say this now that we're older," chaeyoung started hesitantly, "but that kiss meant a lot to me. i mean, i did- i had a- i liked you? a lot back then."

jimin almost choked on air. and before his brain could register the stupid words he was about to say, the words tumbled out of his mouth. "i liked you too."

for the first time, park jimin saw chaeyoung shocked. "you did? wow, and i thought i didn't have a chance with you."

jimin was in disbelief. "you? not have a chance? chaeyoung, you were like- you were the sun-girl. the girl who radiated light when her footsteps touched the ground, the center of alexandria high, the light of everyone's world, not have a chance with- "

"- the moon-boy." chaeyoung sighed. "you were different, jimin. you were the shy boy who radiated a different type of light, soft like the moon. you weren't an admirer or a suitor, you were a friend to me."

"maybe that's why i liked you so much," chaeyoung continued. "everyone saw me as something else: class president, head of comittee, the girl they wanted to date. everyone had expectations anytime they looked at me. but you, you saw me as chaeyoung, as myself. there were no expectations from you. it was, freeing to be with you."

silence fell as the two exchanged glances in the empty coffeeshop.

"i guess this is fate, huh chaeyoung."

"i guess so."

just then, jimin did the bravest thing he'd done in a long time. he pulled chaeyoung into a hug for the first time in 7 years. as chaeyoung's arms slowly snaked across his body to hug him back, jimin realised that this was all too familiar to him. chaeyoung still used the same cherry blossom detergent, and the same coconut and vanilla perfume. for a while, it felt like they were teenagers again: hanging out after school after doing their math project, enduring the work solely for each other's company.

after a while, when they finally pulled away, they stopped to look at each other before jimin's alarm for 9 o'clock went off. "hey, it's getting late. want me to walk you home?" jimin offered, accepting that we was just going to have to miss his dose of gravity falls tonight in favour of a much better time.

when chaeyoung nodded her head, jimin gathered his things off the counter top. chaeyoung began to pack her things as well. ten minutes later, when the shop had been closed, they were on the streets. they walked and reminisced about the times when they were young and foolish in high school. they revealed all the stupid things they did that because of their infatuation with one another. they talked about their interests, their family, their jobs, and all that had, have, and will be in their life. all the puzzle pieces fell into place in time with their footsteps in the night. fate smiled on them that night, glad that his laid out, intertwined ribbons of plans had finally made their way to jimin and chaeyoung.

"you didn't manage to catch the eclipse tonight, did you?" jimin asked with a frown in his voice as they arrived at chaeyoung's apartment door.

chaeyoung smiled and pushed a piece of paper into his hand. "i think, moon-boy," she said, kissing him on the cheek, "that this is eclipse enough."

---

[purplesurveys]

659

Mosquitoes find you particularly delicious. The rainy season where I live is essentially equivalent to mosquito season, so there is definitely a certain period in a year where they are more than usual; and because I like having just my windows open when I sleep (I find the aircon too cold most of the time), the mosquitoes find their way to my room and so there’d be days I’d wake up filled with new bites. I’m lucky enough to have never had dengue. You cheated on Heads Up 7 Up in elementary school. We don’t play that here. We do have a game called 7 Up and it *may* be a variation of that, but 7 Up involves running and chasing haha. You had a favorite Spice Girl. I’m definitely not old enough to have reached Spice Girls’ peak, and out of all of them I only know Victoria Beckham. You remember watching the first episode of SpongeBob when it came out. I was only a year old when Spongebob first came out, so I didn’t watch it by then. I do know what episode you’re talking about, though – Spongebob was pretty much all I ever watched as a kid. You like to draw. I was never any good at drawing, so I hate every bit of it.

You wish you had a car. Sort of? I have my own car bought by my parents, but I am aiming to get my own car when I could afford it. My dream car is the Mini Cooper Clubman. You used to want to be a model. I’m embarrassed by it now, but it was a legitimate dream of mine before, so much so that I let my dad know of my intention (then) of becoming a runway model. Idk, I had a past friend who was into VS models and reblogged them all the time, so her interest rubbed off on me and I wanted to be like them as well. I cringe every time I remember, lmao. You wanted to be on the show All That. I wanted to be on all the Nickelodeon shows that had the same theme as All That. You enjoy public speaking. I’m good at it and can enjoy it on a good day, but sometimes I’ll get anxious. You have witnessed something supernatural. Nope. I’ve had friends tell me their stories and I believe them, but I can’t say the same for myself. You believe in the supernatural. Just ghosts. I don’t believe in folk creatures, like the ones we have in our native culture. You aren't heterosexual. My survey answers in the last six or so years have made this very blatant. You think the whole transgender thing is stupid. That’s twisted and sad and pitiful. You own a dreamcatcher. Two – one mini dreamcatcher and another giant one. I’ve had an attachment to them since seeing New Moon of the Twilight Saga – there’s a part where Jacob gives Bella her own dreamcatcher at a time when she got depressed and was having nightmares every night, and I know there had been many times when I was like Bella, so I wanted one for myself as well. You'd want a boho wedding. So not my style. My wedding’s going to be minimalist and at most, pastel-themed. You think pink is the best color for cars. Not for me, no. Simple is better; I like my cars white. You've been called a free spirit. Nope, and rightfully so. I wouldn’t call myself a free spirit either. I like trying out new things, but I also like having security blankets and safety nets around. You're the same height as your mom. Yeah pretty much. She’s just a tiny bit taller. You grew up watching Nickelodean. I grew up watching Nickelodeon*, but this works too. My cousins and I just flipped among three channels – Nickelodeon, Disney Channel, and Cartoon Network.

You have a sibling who looks like you. Nah we all have our own distinct looks. There are angles and expressions wherein we look more similar, but generally it’s easy to tell us apart. You like to write in a journal. This account is pretty much like my journal, and I love using this blog for my thoughts and ramblings. You're tired. It’s Friday, it’s the end of the week, and I’m so, so, SO tired. And of course I’m celebrating by drinking two cups of coffee and staying up as late as I want, lol. You felt sick today. The last time this happened was late last year. I felt feverish while I was out for dinner with Gab, but the weird thing about it was that I felt better and as if nothing happened literally a half hour later. You're very creative. That is the LAST word I would use to describe myself. You can be disorganized. I’m organized about a lot of things, but I’m also disorganized about a lot of things. I could never maintain my closet no matter how much I put an effort to fold everything neatly and start from square one. You have a fever right now. Nope.

You've enjoyed babysitting. We never explicitly used this term but I was always the go-to elder kid to look out for my baby cousins, especially when we still lived under the same roof as an extended family, and I loved every bit of it. I was okay with being the motherly figure while everyone else played games or with toys. You want to go to New York City to visit. Yeah. I like bustling cities, so I feel like NYC would be right up my alley. I don’t care much for Times Square though and I would probably spend most of my time going to their museums. You love tea. I’m not obsessed with it; I can take it or leave it. And I don’t like the teas that come with a teabag; I drink either the traditional Chinese tea or just sweet, unhealthy iced tea altogether. You don't play an instrument. Yeah and I get sad about this like two times a day lmao. I wish I could play just a tiny bit of piano and/or violin. You used to want Taylor Swift's hair. I never actively wanted to be anything like her.  You enjoyed High School Musical. Of course. I was THERE when it came out, and I stayed for every bit of the first film, High School Musical 2, and High School Musical 3. I was right smack in the middle of the HSM frenzy and it’s one of the more cherishable moments of my childhood haha. Everybody knew the songs, the steps to We’re All In This Together, and had HSM shirts, bags, pencil cases, and notebooks. You watched The Rugrats Movie in the theater. I barely remember that it had a movie, and I don’t think I ever saw it. Definitely not in the cinemas. You've performed on stage in a musical. I’ve performed on stage (as part of a big group) for annual school productions, but I think they were all plays. Hated every second of it. You've had the lead role in a musical. Certainly not. You've had cramps so bad you threw up. No, but close. A few weeks ago I had a headache SO bad I actually had to run to the toilet only to dry heave. It’s never happened to me before so I got scared and I just slept it off to see what happened the next day. You've never had Nutella. 2010 Tumblr pressured everybody to get Nutella because it was all the rage at the time and all the cool kids were having it, so I also did at some point. You have a favorite blanket. The one Gabie gave me two Christmases ago is my favorite. You own family heirlooms. I’m sure we have some but they haven’t been passed on to me yet.

You have carved and painted pumpkins before. No, pumpkins aren’t really a thing here. As far as I know, coloring/painting on Easter eggs is a more common activity. You have colored Easter eggs. Yes, I used to do this with my (second) cousins when they were younger.

You've walked through a haunted house. I always say I’m into horror stuff, but tbh I think horror movies are the furthest I can go HAHAHA. I’ve never been in a haunted house whether day or night, and I think the only time you’d get me to do it is if I got paid for it. You've dressed up on Halloween. Plenty times. I was Dora the Explorer last year :D :D You've tried to kill yourself. You've had a false rumor spread about you. In Grade 6 I had a rumor come back to me saying I was bi and was seeing my friend Andi (who, to be fair, I had a crush on at the time but I didn’t realize it yet). I just found it cool at all that I had a rumor about me considering I wasn’t a popular kid and had literally 2 friends, so I didn’t let it bother me haaaaah. You've been kicked out of a store (whether for a good or bad reason.) It was at a McDonald’s lmao.  My friends were playing a card game and were yelling every five seconds; I knew people were going to get pissed so I distanced myself as much as possible even though I was at the same table jkfghdgh. Eventually an old man had had enough and asked us to leave, which I was GLAD to do. You have a favorite stove burner that you always use. I don’t have a favorite...the one I use often just happens to be my regular one. You enjoy eating at fast food restaurants. I find them dirty and nasty so I only eat there if I absolutely have to, but I do like getting takeout and enjoy fast food in general. You like arrows and feathers and peace signs. Ugh cringe, this SCREAMS 2010 Tumblr hahahahaha. I mean I liked all of these at some point, but not now. You want to wear a flower crown for your wedding. Hell no. It was cute for a while, but not anymore. You have signed someone else's yearbook. We don’t do that here. We pay tons of money for our yearbooks that it’s practically destroying them if we ever wrote on them lmao. You were shy in high school. For the first half, I was shy and pretty unpopular. By the latter part of high school I managed to gain friends and end up in the ~popular~ circle, but I was still shy compared to my peers. I didn’t take up a lot of extracurriculars (which is what the popu kids tended to do) but I managed to stay within the circle until the end of it. You're shy when first getting to know someone. Of course, as most would be I would imagine. I can warm up fast, though. You've gotten all A's in a class before. In high school, this was me with English and history. In college, this would be me with my history electives.

You had a favorite class and a favorite teacher in high school. Sure! Our biology teacher in sophomore year was evvvvverybody’s crush. She was so pretty and kind and smart; when we went to a beach for our field trip, I tried getting stung by a jellyfish just so she’d treat the bite on my leg cos she was one out of two faculty members who knew how to treat stings HAHAHAH. I didn’t get the highest marks in her class, but I enjoyed nonetheless. You were a teacher's favorite. BY NO MEANS. Gabie was, though. We were total polar opposites when it came to how we acted in class. You've won a costume contest. I...don’t think I ever did, but my mom did go all out when it came to coming up with our costumes as kids. You have a favorite Disney princess. It used to be Ariel, then I found her annoying. My present favorite is Rapunzel. You get carsick. Only if I excessively do something while in a moving vehicle, like text or read. You've flown first class. Never have. You hate inequality and wish life were more fair. Don’t we all? You've had a bad neighbor. They weren’t bad per se. Just a bit chaotic and the kids (a little older than I was at the time) clearly had behavioral issues. I was so relieved when they moved out. You've done a cannonball. I don’t think so. You have fallen and hit your head. Nope, and that sounds like the literal worst thing. You like sunflowers. Sure! It’s a popular UP symbol – every year, a few weeks before the university-wide graduation, they’d plant huuundreds of sunflowers to line up the entire road leading to my school :) We usually refer to sunflowers as a sign of encouragement to keep on keeping on, so that one day the sunflowers will bloom for us as well. You like the name Skylar. It’s alright. I like it because it’s the name of the badass mom in Breaking Bad, but otherwise it’s nothing too special for me. You've had a friend named Sarah. I have acquaintances with the name Sarah but they’re not my friends. You have an Aunt Robin. Nope. I would end up being the Aunt Robyn in a few years, hahahaha. You have an Uncle Rick. I’ve never heard of an Uncle/Tito Rick, but with how big Filipino families are I wouldn’t be surprised if I turned out to have one. You have a cousin Annabelle. No, but close. I have an Auntie Bel whose whole name is Amabel. You think flying a kite is boring. I never had fun doing it, or whenever we had to do it as a school activity. You were born in the year of the Dragon. Tiger, yo. You like your Chinese zodiac sign better than your American one. I don’t care for either. Your laptop has shut off because it got too hot. It’s never done this before, thank goodness. I try not to overwork it either. You've accidentally caught something on fire. Nope, I don’t think this has happened to me before. You make your bed every day. Aside from my mom requires me to, a neat bed makes the entire room feel much cleaner so I do it anyway. You wear a digital watch. I have a bad record of losing watches, so I never like wearing them. You have a favorite park. We don’t have a lot of parks here to even pick favorites from to begin with, which is a shame. You've hiked a mountain. I want to sooooo bad. It’s just never happened before/yet. You want to hike a mountain again. ^ You've been a slave. What the fuck. You feel like you've had your free will stolen from you. My parents were quite strict before but it never felt this bad. You speak in tongues. If you mean I can speak more than one language, then sure. You enjoy medieval festivals. Never been interested in anything medieval. Your favorite fair ride is the pirate ship. I don’t ride rides. Cotton candy isn't that good. It’s a cute concept but I wouldn’t always pay for it.  Men look good in pink. Men – and anybody – would look good in any color so long as they’re comfortable with it lol. You went to youth group. Hell no. I’m glad my mom never forced me either. You were baptized in a lake. No. Just in a church. You were on Color Guard. I have no idea what this means. You went to your senior prom. We had a junior prom that I went to, and that was it for my school; but I was also asked to go to a senior ball of another school. Your first kiss was just an experiment. No, it was a legit kiss. You dated a guy you didn't like. Almost did, though. You have fallen asleep in class. Never. I never want this to happen, either. You have won an award. A few times. You type fast. Yeah, you get used to it through the years. You have a lot of dreams for your future. I still want to do a lot, yes. You've gone camping in the woods. Never, but it’d be a cool experience. I wouldn’t want to be alone though. You love to sleep under the stars. I don’t get to do this but it sounds like a lovely time. You've gone camping in the fall. I haven’t gone camping at allllllll. You own a pair of slipper socks. That sounds way too hot for where I live lmao.

[overwatchworks]

Starry Nights:

Genji figured going to America was going to be a disaster. His father, sending him out to do some solo deals, not at all worried about sending any supervision other than a few of Genji’s personal guards.

“It will help you become accustomed to the nature of our business and deals. Without your brother or I to put the work off on.” Shojiro had told him after calling the brothers into his office.

Hanzo had given him the side eye as Genji blanched at the idea. It got worse when Shojiro told him where he would be going.

Genji figured going to America was going to be a disaster. His father, sending him out to do some solo deals, not at all worried about sending any supervision other than a few of Genji’s personal guards.

“It will help you become accustomed to the nature of our business and deals. Without your brother or I to put the work off on.” Shojiro had told him after calling the brothers into his office. 

Hanzo had given him the side eye as Genji blanched at the idea. It got worse when Shojiro told him where he would be going.

“New Mexico?! Seriously? There’s nothing here but sand and more fucking sand! He could have at least let me stay in California or New York, right? That seems like the places underhanded deals would be happening.” Genji complained, hand propping his chin up as he glared out the window at—go figure—more fucking desert. 

His guard stuck with him for the trip, Kazuo, sighed yet again.

“There is a gang here that supplies good weaponry at a good price. That, and substances we have yet to find anywhere outside of America.”

“Yeah, I know, I read the report, okay? I’m not some dumbass kid like you all seem to think I am.”

“Then perhaps the young master should begin acting like it.” Kazuo offered, eyes never leaving the road. Genji laughed, shaking his head. 

Just because he wasn’t perfect and obedient like Hanzo didn’t mean he was bad at what he did. Genji often thought he could do better than his brother, if he really felt like it. He just never really felt like it, left the dirty work to Hanzo and went out to have a good time instead. That was certainly something his Anija was terrible at. 

But this time around, he was taking it seriously. As much as he hated it, a small, ingrained part of Genji did crave some sort of approval from the clan, from his brother. He liked to impress people, especially those that acted like it was impossible. 

His father had been lenient, as always, and at least gotten Genji a nice place of his own to stay. There was nothing he could do about the town, however. If it could even be called a town. 

It sat precariously on the edge of “Deadlock Gorge”—Genji had rolled his eyes upon hearing the name—little more than a few shacks that could hardly pass for buildings, a crappy old diner, and a gas station that looked like it had been empty since the early 2000’s. There were a few more buildings further down the road that looked slightly better kept, but that was about it. 

Genji, thankfully, was staying further out from podunkville, closer to the city by ten minutes. Which got the drive down to thirty minutes just to get to the suburbs instead of forty. Ridiculous, but it was the best he could get. 

When they arrived at the place Shojiro had bought, Genji hopped out of the car and immediately winced at the heat. He had been hoping for a tan, but this just felt like sunburn to him.

“Damn, the one thing I was hoping would be halfway decent...” Genji muttered, adjusting his sunglasses and putting his hands in his pockets. 

He went to the cozy looking house—nothing too spectacular, but it would have to do. The lawn actually had some grass and shrubs, but it looked out of place when everything else around it was tan, red, and brown. Genji sighed, placing his hand on the scan-lock beside the door. He was already starting to sweat, which was a huge no. 

The inside of the house was quaint; lavish furniture, spacious for a cottage, and blessed air conditioning. The pool out back was a nice touch, and the view of the mountains was alright. Genji went to hook his phone up to the wifi after getting bored of looking around. 

Kazuo brought Genji’s suitcase in, checking the area out.

“Alright, you got this house to yourself. I’m in the next one over. Don’t do anything stupid, I’ll check in again once I’m settled.” He shrugged.

“I highly, highly doubt anyone is going to cause us trouble here. I’ll just text you if I need anything.” Genji called, waving a dismissive hand as he looked on his phone for places to go clubbing. 

Kazuo bowed slightly, Genji going to the couch, not looking up from the device in his hands as he flopped down on it.

“God, this is going to be such a bore...” He muttered after only finding one club that truly wasn’t good enough for his standards. And Genji really didn’t have high ones at this point.

“Oh, and don’t forget, you start school tomorrow.” Kazuo reminded him as he left. 

Genji groaned, arms dropping to his side as he threw his head back dramatically. He’d forgotten about that part. School was just a way to keep Genji in check, making sure he would be focused on his task rather than the city night life. 

The Shimada stared at the ceiling for a long time, pouting, before he finally sat up and went to go put his things away and maybe swim. May as well use his one day of relaxation to the fullest.

-

Genji wasn’t used to making his own breakfast. Sure, cereal didn’t really count—and honestly, what a shit breakfast too—but Genji was still pouring it into a bowl. Kazuo had forced him to go to the grocery store with him the previous day, and there hadn’t been much of a selection at the local super market. Genji was already missing the food he would normally get at home. 

It had been a struggle to get up, jet lag never being something Genji could conquer without at least sleeping an entire day. He looked cute, at least. Genji wasn’t about to let first impressions be anything but the best. All his clothes were designer, fitted just for him, since he didn’t actually own anything that wasn’t. 

He went for subtle but sexy with ripped black skinny jeans, a cropped tank top, and high-topped sneakers. His hair was perfectly styled and freshly dyed for his trip, just a bit of red eyeliner and gloss to tie everything together. Genji knew he looked good, but he almost fell asleep on the counter as he was eating his cereal. There wasn’t even a coffee shop around to give him a slap of caffeine to help.

“Genji, let’s go.” Kazuo called, voice holding a hint of irritation. 

Genji sat up quickly, startled by the sudden noise. He must have dozed off a bit.

“I’m coming!”

Genji wolfed down the last of his cereal and threw the bowl in the sink, grabbing his newly acquired backpack. It just had a few notebooks and pencils, enough to get by for the time he’d be staying. 

School was a must, but getting good grades? Not so much, especially since he would only be there for a month or two, tops. Shojiro had only paid the school to let him in, keep an eye out, and not ask any questions. 

Genji ran outside, meeting Kazuo in the car.

“Damn, it’s already hot out! How do people live here?” He huffed, sitting back in his seat and checking his phone. 

It was prime partying hours back in Japan, his social media alight with pictures of his friends and messages asking where he was. He replied to as many as he could on the ride, though, everything was kept vague. A family trip was the excuse, since the task itself was a secret.

“Wait out back when you get let out, I’ll be there.” Kazuo told him when they arrived at the school. 

Genji nodded, taking a look at the building. It was bigger than he expected, a mix of kids walking in the front doors. Genji qualified as a senior, though, he was turning nineteen in a couple of months. Definitely a little older than some of the kids he saw. They looked really tiny to him.

“Jeez, I still can’t believe I have to go here.” Genji grumbled as he left the car, shouldering his bag and walking in with everyone else. 

And everyone stared. Everyone. 

Genji smirked, looking over everyone’s faces, enjoying the attention. He liked when they quickly averted their gazes to the floor with blushes and whispered conversation to their friends. Going to the principal’s office came first; checking in and getting his schedule. All the mandated crap. 

Genji winked at a group of girls as he passed them, and they blushed and fussed with their hair. Maybe school wouldn’t be all bad.

-

Classes were boring as all hell, as usual. Genji was surprised at how relaxed America’s schooling system was. Then again, he had been home-schooled his whole life, so he didn’t have much to base levels of relaxation on. Schooling at home had been intense, and there was no way to hide a bad grade or ask for extra credit when it came to Sensei. 

Genji was thrown into the middle of what everyone called “spring semester”, but he caught on pretty quickly. He had also gotten more than enough numbers to start making friends. Everyone in the school was talking about him, and at lunch, his table was filled almost immediately. Genji liked the people so far, and it wasn’t as bad as he had expected. The teachers didn’t give him much work upon hearing his name, at least, up until his English class.

“Practice essays for your upcoming test on Friday! Everyone get out a pencil and some paper.” The teacher instructed. 

Her name was Ms. García, according to Genji’s schedule. He raised his hand as everyone around him shuffled around their bags.

“Yes, Genji, I know who you are, and yes, I still want you to get a paper and pencil out like the rest of us.” She told him matter-of-factly, arms crossing over his chest. 

Genji lowered his hand, lips pressing into a thin line as he followed her instructions reluctantly. The door suddenly opened, everyone’s heads turning to look, including Genji’s. And look he did. 

The guy that walked in had choppy brown hair pulled back from his face, freckles, a nice tan, and some really well fitting jeans and flannel. Really well fitting. Genji stared at him as he walked in quickly, sitting in the empty desk next to him. 

What an absolutely mouthwatering specimen.

“Jesse, it’s every time—”

“Yes, ma’am, I’m sorry. Got held up with Mr. Diaz, he sent you an email.”

Ms. García shook her head, waving her hand with a small smile.

“I really should get you in trouble more often.” She huffed, Jesse grinning and leaning back.

“Nah, l do enough of that on my own.”

“That you do. Paper and pencil, we’re writing an essay.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Genji narrowed his eyes and glanced at Jesse out of the corner of his eye. Jesse glanced back, then winked. The ninja bit his lip to try and hide his smile, though, he failed rather miserably. 

Maybe school wasn’t all bad, and maybe Genji had just gotten really lucky he had someone so hot in his English class.

-

Two weeks went by like a blur. Genji really had been missing out on the public school experience, and honestly, it was pretty much just like in the movies. All the gossip, the cliques, the sitting through class while staring at the minute hand on the clock moved agonizingly slow toward the next hour. 

Lunch hour was best, though. Genji got to sit with his new friends and chatter about everything and nothing, and it seemed like anything he had to say was exciting to these kids. It probably was, considering the size of the town they lived in. 

He had, of course, gotten Jesse’s number. Feigned needing help on essays because of his English every now and then to score an after school “tutoring” session. Not much tutoring ever went on, mostly just excitable banter and getting to know one another. And not only was Jesse hot, he had a personality that matched it. Genji was really, really liking him. 

The only thing Genji was not liking was how he seemed to get dust and sand in every crevice of his body and clothes. He had to shower every night, which certainly wasn’t good for his hair. But, life had not been completely centered around school. 

Genji had yakuza work to do as well, and about three nights a week, he was dressed in a suit making deals with faces tucked behind bandanas. Deadlock. They were a fierce group, motley as they were. Genji could see why his father liked doing business with them. 

Still under the radar in terms of status, loyal to their buyers because of this, and they had some really interesting supplies. Sometimes it was prototype weapons, others drugs and various enhancement substances that Genji had to wonder how they got their hands on. They had gotten him SEP enhancers. Top of the line, and should have been top secret. Genji had a crate of them hidden in the back shed behind the cottage. 

Tonight was not a night that Genji was working, however—and he certainly couldn’t wait until his father and Hanzo heard how good he was doing, the look on his brother’s face would be gold—instead he was scrolling on his phone, holoscreen TV playing idly in the background. 

A text popped up from Jesse. Genji grinned and immediately tapped on it.

‘Hey, sunshine. What say you and I have dinner and do a little stargazing sometime this week? ;)’

Genji tapped his foot as his fingers flew over the screen, biting his lip with a smirk. It was about time Jesse asked him out.

‘Oh, I’m not sure how busy I’ll be this week. (¬◡¬)✧ What day were you thinking??’

Genji waited as the little text bubble popped up, foot tapping quicker.

‘How’s the day after tomorrow sound? I got a little bit of work tomorrow, but after that, I’m all yours, darlin’.’

A giggle bubbled up at the pet name, how he even accented it through the text. Jesse was such a dork, and Genji didn’t realize just how much he would love it.

‘What a coincidence, me too. That sounds good then! See you Wednesday, cowboy <3’

‘Looking forward to it.’

Genji set his phone down and launched himself off the couch with a continual sound of excitement, padding quickly over the tile floors to get to his bedroom to pick out an outfit. 

All he had to do was get through tomorrow, then his date day—and that cowboy ass—was all his.

-

Genji’s arms were crossed, fingers tapping on his forearm impatiently. He checked his watch, then sighed. He was hot, the dress shirt was stuffy, and Deadlock was seven minutes late. Genji understood being fashionably late, but he was getting pissed off. They had chosen an old warehouse quite a ways from even the small town to do their trade in, accomplices of the Shimada clan having flown in for extra protection to Genji seeming to share his irritation. 

There was no air conditioning, the sun was filtering through holes in the ceiling in sweltering patches, and Deadlock was late. 

The clicking of heels came two minutes later, Genji not moving from where he was leaned against the wall. His eyes narrowed like a cat that had just caught sight of its prey, contrasting to the silky smile that wove its way up his lips.

“Ah, Elizabeth! Good of you to finally show up! I was thinking you had forgotten about our little deal here.” Genji called pleasantly as a group of Deadlock members stepped into view, guns held passively. 

Most of them had bandanas covering their faces and obnoxious hats. Lots of torn leather jackets, chains, oil stains, and old jeans. There was a rather large omnic just behind the gang leader, and man at her side with only one arm of his jacket ripped to show off the tattoo on his forearm. He seemed kind of stiff, anxious. A bad sign. 

Nevertheless, Genji pushed himself off the wall and walked over to Ashe.

“Now now, no need to get antsy. Some of this stuff just takes a little longer to get here.” She told him, a deep drawl accenting her voice. 

Genji didn’t like it. It made her sound like she was teasing, cocky, used to getting her way. Maybe she was. But, so was he.

“And for the record, it’s Ashe.”

Genji accepted the gloved hand outstretched to him, a slight crease in Ashe’s brow giving away her annoyance at his barb. Genji simply smiled coldly at her. They shook, then Ashe motioned to her gang, Genji watching as a crate placed on a hovercraft came to rest just behind her.

“I got your goods, now show me mine.” She demanded, head tilting to the side, eyes narrowing. 

Genji glanced over the group of gang members once again, then held up his hand, two fingers moving in a quick motion. Kazuo slid a credit reader into his hand, the little device shining a ridiculously large number at him. He flipped it over and held it up for Ashe, raising a brow as she sneered.

“That’s all you’re givin’ me? A silly little credit chip for all the shit I got you?”

“The deal was twenty million credits, and this is how you’ll get them.” Genji shrugged. 

Ashe set her jaw, the man behind her shifting slightly. Genji’s eyes darted to him, assessing, daring him to move again. He stared back at Genji for a moment, then looked down. That guy was the only one acting suspicious, as far as Genji could tell, so he went back to focusing on the deal at hand.

“Do you know how long it took me to get this here? There’s new types of ammo in there, specialized, never before seen on the market!”

“I know, which is why I am paying so much for such a small shipment of it. You have my word it’s all here.” Genji told her, just a slight tease to his voice. 

He knew he held all the strings in this deal, knew all he had to do was tug a few to make his puppets dance. Ashe would take the deal, or she would be left with no better buyer.

“Oh, and I can just trust your word, huh, yakuza?” Ashe hissed, raising to the bait. 

Genji smiled and shrugged again.

“Take it or leave it. I’m tired of waiting around in this place.”

There was silence for a prolonged moment, Ashe’s eyes narrowing and fingers tightening over the barrel of her rifle. Genji slipped his hand into his pocket, gripping the throwing knife he had hidden there as he waited.

“Get that lyin’ brat, boys.” Ashe ordered, Genji smirking as he ducked under the first shots fired his way. 

At least she was making this fun. That, and Genji had been provoking her. He guessed this was probably deserved. 

Genji threw his knife—heard it connect satisfyingly with the weapon he had been aiming for as it clattered to the ground—and immediately ducked behind an old pile of crates for cover. His guards swarmed around him, giving sharp commands in quick, clipped Japanese. 

Genji glanced out from behind the crate, looking for Ashe. She was spontaneous and rash, sure, but he was confident once she put the rifle down, they could still make a deal. If she ever put the damn rifle down. 

A shot went past his ear—dangerously close—and Genji threw another knife. He heard a shout, then took his chance. His wakazashi was out of its sheath in a blink, and he was behind the enemy’s cover in another. A kick was thrown at Ashe’s head as she turned to look at him, eyes widening.

“I’m still willing to make a deal, you know!” Genji told her as she growled and spat blood. 

Ashe slammed the butt of her rifle against Genji’s shoulder, at too much of a positional disadvantage to do any more damage than that.

“Fuck off! B.O.B, do somethin’!”

“You won’t get a better price, I guarantee it!”

Genji ducked beneath a punch, then felt a rather large hand grab his shirt and pull him off of the gang leader. Was Bob really the giant omnic’s name? He was thrown into the dwindling group of the Deadlock thugs, hitting someone else and taking them both to the ground with a grunt. 

Genji smacked a hand against the man’s face, then looked down at him with a snarl. It was the nervous man from behind Ashe. He tried to push Genji off him, grappled with him a bit, Genji not letting him get away. If he was going to lose this deal, he wasn’t going to lose it alone.

“Stay down and I won’t slit your throat!” He hissed, not even realizing he had lost his wakizashi when he had been thrown until now. 

The man stilled, a crease in his brow as he glanced down at Genji’s empty hands pressed against his throat, then back up, noticing the same thing.

“You—”

“Shut up, I’m still in a position to strangle you if I wanted.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

Genji frowned. He recognized that voice, those eyes darting back and forth between the retreating gang and the yakuza guards running towards the Shimada. 

Genji impulsively ripped the bandana down, eyes widening when Jesse stared back up at him, panic dancing over his features. Their gaze didn’t break, even as Genji stood slowly, Jesse scrambling up.

“McCree, come on!” Ashe shouted. 

Jesse hesitated, looking between Genji and Ashe. His chest rose and fell quickly as he backed up, running after his gang. Genji held up a hand when his guards tried to chase him, eyes narrowing.

“Leave him.”

“Sir—”

“I said. Leave him.” Genji growled, turning on his heel and snatching up his wakazashi. He sheathed it forcefully, brow low and eyes dark as he stalked out of the warehouse.

-

They didn’t talk for weeks. Genji avoided Jesse as much as he could, though, school made it difficult. He skipped English class and ate lunch in the bathrooms. It wasn’t even that he was angry with Jesse or that he didn’t want to see him. It was just...Awkward. 

Jesse being apart of Deadlock didn’t surprise him, not really. Everyone had secrets. And Jesse had seen the secret side of Genji that he wasn’t exactly proud of having. He had threatened to kill him, had been poised and ready to strike him dead. Had been willing to. Genji wasn’t proud of that, never would be. Facing Jesse now seemed impossible. 

Genji walked to the back of the school to be picked up by Kazuo as usual, head down and hands on his backpack straps. No one ever really went out the back, so when he heard footsteps behind him, Genji frowned.

“Gen, wait!”

The Shimada turned, eyes widening as he saw Jesse making his way over. He broke out into a run, scrambling around a corner and trying to make it to the back courtyard where Kazuo would be.

“Hey! Genji, wait a sec!!”

Louder footsteps, running after him, a hand wrapping around his arm.

“Jesse—!”

Said man stepped in front of Genji, effectively blocking his path.“

Please, just hear me out! And after that, you don’t ever have to talk to me again, okay? Just...Please.” Jesse urged, both hands gripping Genji’s biceps gently. 

His eyes were wide, brows furrowed; he looked like a sad puppy. Genji pursed his lips, gaze drifting to the side, but he stilled his struggles.

“Listen, I...What happened, I get it if you hate me for it. I know being apart of, you know, a gang like that is...I-I don’t know. But, what happened then doesn’t change how I feel about you now. Different parts of us just had a bad run in, that’s all.”

“This probably doesn’t even make any sense, but what I’m tryin’ to say is that I still like you. And if you don’t like me, that’s fine too. I get it. I’m sorry for everythin’ that happened, though. I at least want you to know that.”

Genji stared at Jesse, watched him struggle for more words before he simply sighed and let him go. He took his hands as they slipped back down to his sides.

“Jesse, I don’t think badly of you for this. I just thought you’d...I don’t know. Not like me? Since we fought and...I just assumed that you wouldn’t want to see me again because of who...Who you saw.” Genji murmured, biting his lip as he looked away.

“Aw, hon. I know that wasn’t you.”

“But it was. I need you to understand that. That’s what I do for a living. I have to be that person, it’s my duty!”

Jesse squeezed his hands, dipping his head slightly to meet Genji’s eyes better. His gaze reluctantly slipped to the cowboy’s, surprised to find only warmth there.

“I’ve been around you long enough to know who you really are, Gen. I know what it’s like to live a double life like this, and I know that who you are with them isn’t always you. I get it. And I know who you really are, and what you do. I accept it.”

Genji blinked quickly, brows furrowed. Jesse took a breath, a small smile quirking his lips up.

“So...If you still want to, I hear Saturday is going to have clear skies. It’d be a good night to go stargazing.”

A laugh left Genji as he nodded, pulling Jesse into a hug.

“Yeah. Yeah, Saturday sounds good.” He whispered against Jesse’s shoulder, the cowboy squeezing him tightly.

“Good.”

“And for the record, I accept you too, Jess.”

Jesse grinned, eyes dipping to Genji’s lips a split second before he was kissed. Short and sweet, but it still left him breathless.

“See you Saturday, darlin’.” Jesse murmured, their noses brushing before he pulled away and went down the hall. 

Genji stared after him, his own smile hardly contained.

“See you Saturday.”

~~

[crimsonblackrose]

oh boy camp is going to be an experience. I usually love camp but yikes.

At my old school camp was 2 weeks. I picked a theme and then picked fun educational things to do that would tie into that theme and expand upon what they had learned throughout the semester. I did all this on my own. The only thing I didn’t do was buy the actual supplies or send the kids info on the camps. But all the teaching, all the prep everything was just me. I did a full 2 week cooking camp, space camp, detective camp, pirate camp, and harry potter camp. 

At my new school it’s 5 days. My coteacher had a list of things she wanted to include: a dance, crafts, a movie, and some sort of cooking. She didn’t want a them, but hey cool that’s 4 days right there. So I started lesson planning based off of these plans. Because we taught this extra class during lunch she’d pretty much wiped me out of silly dances that I knew from when I was a kid: hokey pokey, cha cha slide, macarena. All I had left was the chicken dance and had to keep swatting her hand from trying to take it to use during that lunch class. But let’s be real the chicken dance isn’t particularly a hour and a half long lesson so I decided to pair it with some of her crafts and this idea of future tense. I want to be/ I don’t want to be. Her idea was we’d do an eco bag and the kids would decorate it and I was like cool. They can decorate it with their dreams. Perfect. And that’ll be day one, toss in the rules and maybe we can squeeze a class out of it. 

Day two would be when is your birthday and I’d teach them star signs and we’d learn about personality traits and essentially expand upon their ability to answer when their birthday is as well as do a card game and some crafts (star viewer). She hemed and hawed over how difficult it’d be to learn their different star signs but I repeated again and again they just have to learn their own. She also wanted them to have a water gun fight so I added that to the end in a red light green light type of game where they’d use the months of the year to move forward. ( she recently told me the water gun fight has been scrapped)

Day 3 was animals. I found some fun animal straw crafts online and put it together with a cup game and that we’d learn the catagories that animals fall into: mammal, reptile, amphebian, ect. (DId I tell you half these kids are already fluent?)

Day 4:Cooking- per my coteacher’s request peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and lemonade. Super easy, no heat required version of cooking but also very non-Korean so something fun and new to try for the kids. And this day we’d start watching the movie she picked “Toy Story 3″

Day 5- Finish Toy Story 3 (yup that’s it, that’s the whole day per her request)

So yeah that was camp. But then she said she changed up the schedule and it would be movie first and cooking first because she felt bad about these kids who had reading camp at the same time and didn’t want them to feel left out. Uhhh okay. Fine. I’ll just adjust the powerpoints and move the rules from chicken dance day to Toy story solo day because we’re starting with that. But then today I got a message from the school about the whole schedule and A. Time is different by a good 20 minutes (which she never told me even though we share a room) and B. the Reading camp is 2 days and it’s the two days she moved the movie camp and cooking too which means it wasn’t her being this aww I feel bad for the kids move it was (I’m deducing) because she does not like the librarian and they seem to have a mini feud happening, so she’s being petty and moved the things she considered fun to the beginning to “punish” the kids who signed up for the other camp. Even though these two camps were originally never suppose to overlap. But she changed the schedules and asked for the schedule to be changes so I’m just like WTH?

So I go through all this work of slowly changing my power points to get them to realign with her plans and then boom today, last day of the semester, day before we actually have camp the Toy Story 3 movie finally arrives. And she gives it to me. Less then 40 minutes before it’s time for me to go home. And so I mess with it and try to figure out how to get it to work because you always check media and tech before you use it. And guess what? The thing doesn’t work. The computer doesn’t actually have any DVD player set up to it. So I have to scramble around trying to find some sort of software I can download to get it to work. I download one of the suggestions from Microsoft’s store. Doesn’t work. I download VLC, doesn’t work. I download Gom player and boom we have a picture. But! it’s moving ridiculously slow and there’s no sound. And this is when she shows up and is like well that’s because it’s not hooked up to the TV. And I’m like no, my headphones are int here should be sound. But she turns on the Tv and still no sound and still snail pace and of course the entire media player is in Korean so I can’t figure out what should work and what shouldn’t and she just walks off. And I’m like it’s in Korean! You’re first language! Surely you can get it set up! But no, she’s super not good with tech and when I try and tell her how I got from the DVD to where I had been she can’t figure out how to right click and get Gom to even pop up. And I’m just like great. Everyone else went home early so it’s just us two and we apparently can’t figure this out before I have to leave. So she tells me “Let’s do the chicken dance tomorrow and the orientation” (orientation? What the heck? You mean go over the rules?) “and let’s do the animal craft.” (Hold up those are two different days ma’am. No can do. I tried explaining how they were different days and the chicken dance day goes with the eco bags...which it turns out aren’t eco bags and the kids aren’t decorating them. They’re giant hard plastic bags that she bought baby shark stickers for them to use to decorate and like really? That’s not fun. That doesn’t fit into the theme we agreed on. Why couldn’t you buy a canvas bag like you said you were and let them decorate that with markers? Why’d you have to buy something that’s probably more expensive and is not fun? Also the older kids don’t get a bag, they get a tumbler with the same baby shark stickers. Really?) So I tried to be like “Uh those are two different power points. And she just stared at me. And I was just like seriously? You don’t talk to me like all week and then in the final hour right before camp starts you’re like this? You changed the schedule on me multiple times and have yet to tell me that the actual time of the classes have been pushed back by 20 minutes? And you changes the lesson plan so surely you know that they all go together, but now we’re acting all willy nilly and going back to the starting point because oh boy the DVD I ordered last minute came in last minute and surely in like 40 minutes you can troubleshoot that before going home.

Like I literally spent the last two days doing nothing. She made this big deal about “oh there’s something to tell you about camp but I’ll tell you later’ (she always does this) “I’ll tell you Tuesday because we don’t have classes” and then she wasn’t there at all yesterday. So I did NOTHING. (okay lie, I finished the book I was reading) And then today I was so bored I finished the NEW BOOK I WAS READING and started listening to an Audio book. ) I had ample time to play with the DVD and figure out how it worked and ask for help from other teachers who aren’t as....technological inept as my coteacher. But noooo. 

Oh and the other stupid thing is apparently we have prizes. Prizes for the two kids who do the best every day during camp. No. You either give something to everyone or give nothing. You don’t make kids feel bad during camp. Camp is suppose to be fun. It’s suppose to be a time for them all to find something enjoyable about English in the hopes that that fun and joy keeps them motivated to learn throughout the year. And my coteacher made a big deal about how we don’t have enough of a budget to buy them all snacks, even though she wants to so the principal said we could give them little things to motivate them. And I have to be the one to tell them at the start of everyday. Yeah the best two of ya’all gets a prize. BUT for some ridiculous reason we were able to afford a DVD version of Toy Story 3, enough hard plastic bags for the entirety of the 3rd and 4th graders coming, tumblers for all the 5th and 6th graders and stickers for everyone, map puzzles they can color (that’s been added to the chicken dance day because I had to tell her AGAIN that I don’t have any more dances up my sleeve that that’s the last one I know). Like really? REALLY? Buying a box of capris sun and some chocopies will cost less then like one of those tumblers. But no instead we bought...I assume fancy AF pencil cases for the 2 best kids per day.

Ugh. Anyway camp starts tomorrow. I’m not looking forward to this mess. 

[nickgerlich]

What We Have Learned So Far

I remember back to the 1970s, when I was a mere teenager. My Dad the Accountant was also the purchasing agent for our family. It was a task in which he prided himself and his squeezing-blood-out-of-turnips ways. He shopped with ruthless cunning and laser precision. This explained why our basement had metal shelves lined with enough canned goods to get us through a nuclear fallout, because Dad was the kind of guy who would find corn on sale, and then buy the whole case.

My friends used to make fun of me. “Are you guys planning on World War III?” they would ask. Nope. Dad was just being a good shopper, so we shut up and ate corn.

But suddenly I realize that Dad was ahead of his time, while at the same time, a product of his times. He grew up during the Great Depression, so he knew the value of a nickel saved, a paper clip, piece of string, even an empty beer can with its top removed to use as a pencil holder. This is not just quaint nostalgic yearnings, it’s the new survival strategy. I suspect if you went into many American pantries these days, you would think my Dad had paid them a visit.

While the first documented US case of coronavirus happened on 20 January 2020, it wasn’t until the last two weeks that we really stood up and paid much attention here. In that short time, we have learned many things, about ourselves, about our society. Here are a few:

No one is happy right now. We are filled with anxiety. We’re stress-filled, and easily provoked by the littlest thing someone might do to us in public. I get it. When your world is turned upside down, it’s easy to take it out on others. Even though only a tiny tiny fraction of our 330 million people will contract COVID-19, there is still the chance it could happen. Given the fact that we are all told to stay home, one has to wonder what the social outcomes will be down the road. Will there be a baby boom next winter, as some chirpy people suggest? Or will the added stress lead to divorces? Worse yet, not if, but when, will there be shopping cart rage and shootings in shops as people fight over scarce commodities?

What we once took for granted, we may never do so again. Remember when we could go to a supermarket and they would have everything we needed? Yeah, me too…about two weeks ago. I remember my first semester at WT, when I had a young Polish emigre in my Principles of Marketing class. She told of life in the mother country, still reeling under years of an oppressive regime. She spoke of being overwhelmed by all the choices we had in America, because in Poland, it wasn’t about which bread, it was about whether there was any bread at all. If you saw a queue forming outside a store, you got in line without even knowing why you were there, under the assumption that someone knew something you did not, and you better not miss whatever was available.

How sad that we now think the same thing. We blindly get in line before opening hours in hopes that shelves have been restocked during the night.  And for that matter, every other aspect of our lives, from dining out to movie theatres, concerts, sporting events, and more, are all out the window right now. We have our Netflix, as long as they don’t cut the bandwidth to save the internet for everyone now engaged in online learning.


Cheap gas is nice, but if you can’t go anywhere, it is worthless. With a barrel of oil around $24, dealers are practically giving gas away. Today, you can get gas for $1.69 a gallon in Amarillo. The only problem is that, with so many people sent home to work, shops closed, and everyone hunkering down, there’s really nowhere to go other than the grocery. Oh, for fuel this cheap when we are able to take road trips. This is nothing but a false positive externality of the coronavirus crisis.

Agile companies and organizations will survive, while the others will be weeded out quickly. We will definitely lose a lot of businesses during this pandemic, especially mom-and-pop businesses. There are more businesses than we realize that are only one or two months away from bankruptcy, mirroring the condition of many citizens who are similarly skating by, month-to-month. Are you in the restaurant business? Why haven’t you considered takeaway before? Have a retail shop? Why haven’t you gone online yet with a commerce-driven website and/or mobile app? Teach at a university? Why haven’t you pushed yourself a little the last two decades by developing at least one online course?

Furthermore, this will cause many businesses, organizations, and even governments to reconsider how business is done, but only among those that survive. Does it necessarily have to be face-to-face? Why can’t it be done electronically? Does it have to be done the old way forever?

I do not need to eat out anywhere near as much as I once did. I have been moving in this direction for the last few months anyway in an effort to eat more healthily, as well as because I am enjoying teaching myself to cook. But with restaurants off-limits in most areas, and everyone my age being urged to have a month’s worth of provisions on hand, my pantry runneth over. And you know what? I am enjoying it. Even with my beginner’s skills and tools, I can put together a mighty tasty dinner. My oldest daughter often joins me in this endeavor, and she, better than I, produce some amazing meals. Guess what? We are saving money. We are eating very healthily. And I am losing weight. Lots of it. Yay, us! Of course, that’s bad news for the restaurants if they are able to survive this tragedy, because I may not return there as frequently as I once did.

Many more people are now getting exposure to e-commerce, curbside pick-up, and home delivery. This could forever change the way we buy things, making it difficult for those unable or unwilling to evolve. This goes far beyond the native convenience of it all, and even the social distancing aspect. I, for one, do not want to purchase items that have been handled, tried on, manipulated, etc., by others.

What people purchase during times of panic reflects their worst fears. Panic is irrationality at its worst. It causes us to do things completely out of character, and when it comes to purchasing, it causes us to buy things that make no sense whatsoever. The elephant in the living room right now is toilet paper. The coronavirus does not even cause diarrhea, so there’s no worry in that department, yet Americans and others worldwide have gobbled up virtually every available roll. One report I read said that we bought 60 days’ worth of toilet paper in three days. A standard 18-roll pack should last a minimum of one month, and quite possibly two months, in a two-person household.

So why did everyone hoard this most basic commodity? Simple. Because everyone fears having to take a dump and not having paper with which to wipe. Never mind starvation or more important matters; we just want to be clean down there. I want to be clean, too, but I’m not going to go crazy on inventorying it. A second fear is bottled water. Really? Unless our public utilities also break down, we’re going to have tap water. So picture this: We are a bunch of defecation dehydrophobes. I don’t like that mental picture.

The food people are buying reflects our rather pedestrian American cuisine, which also turns out to be our comfort foods. The American diet is a mash-up of various international influences and regionalized adaptations, along with some items of our own making. To be honest, I don’t think it is all that good. It is rather bland, favors sauces that happens to red, and probably puts more emphasis on the centerpiece—meat—than is healthy. But that’s a discussion for another time.

Folks are buying the things they know how to prepare, because going out to eat is out of the question unless you can live with takeaway, and people are buying the things that will provide comfort and hope during a time of discomfort and seeming hopelessness. If pounded steak and potatoes make you feel good, then by all means, eat it. It also means that my rather esoteric tastes and dietary preferences are pretty safe. This is one time that being in the minority has its benefits. All of my stuff is still abundant.

People will rearrange their schedules to go shopping if there is hope that a scarce item has been replenished overnight. When was the last time you went grocery shopping at 7:00am? I did it this week, and was not the least bit surprised to see about two dozen others out there, milling about in the pre-dawn moonlight. Many stores have now trimmed their operating hours to allow more time for thorough overnight cleanings and restocking, as well as to accommodate seniors-only shopping hours, but the long and the short of it is simple: We’ll do whatever it takes if we think we might find a roll of toilet paper or canister of Lysol. Think about this. Aside from Black Friday, when was the last time you engaged in cart-to-cart contact for a limited supply of products?

We are social animals, and we are already starting to miss each other. I can see it on social media already. We want…no, we need…human interactions, whether it is at church, the pub, the workplace, the classroom. All of those have been taken from us in short order, and it did not take long for us to feel that immense loss. Thankfully, we have social media to stay in touch, and inexpensive calling plans to just say hello. Reach out and touch your loved ones, maybe not physically, but at least electronically. It may be a while before we can hug, kiss, even shake hands. But we can still communicate.

There will always be defiant, belligerent people among us. This is the scariest part. There are many folks taking to social media trying to downplay the importance of this matter, dissing the statistics that shows this to be a highly communicable disease with a much higher mortality rate than the common flu. Worst yet, I have seen some of my former students echoing these refrains online. Now more than ever we must use reasoning and logic to filter through the news, all of it, from real to fake. This is a very real contagion that can grow exponentially if left unabated. Interventions of the highest order are necessary to throw speed bumps in its growth. This is not a conspiracy from any political party; it is a global pandemic that knows no borders nor ideologies. Don’t blow off the truth; don’t dig your heels in the dirt and embrace nonsense claptrap that ignores the magnitude of this situation.

We use social media to vent our frustrations and anxieties. And argue. It is sadly ironic that the very tool intended to bring people together has also made it possible for oceans of discontent to rage between us. Give someone a microphone, and suddenly they feel like they are back in high school debate. But more than that, I see raw emotions in people’s posts…the empty shelves, the shuttered stores, the empty parking lots. The mere act of photographing, composing a caption, and posting them is cathartic in that it lets us release those pent up emotions. My advice going forward: skip the arguing, but keep posting your photos and words. If anything, we are all now citizen journalists documenting history in the making. Can you imagine nearly everyone in 1918 had a decent camera in their pocket or purse, and snapped hundreds of photos of the pandemic that year? We would have a much better record had this all been available. We do, so keep shooting and posting.

Finally, we need to love our educators. They have all been forced to do things they may or may not know anything about as they transition to online. For some, it has been easy. For others, it is like being thrust from knowing miles, pounds, and quarts, and suddenly having to use kilometers, kilograms, and liters. We are doing our best to make sure the learning continues, with or without the comforts of the classroom. We all have to make the best of the situation. And I offer encouragement to students for whom online learning is unfamiliar. It’s not perfect, but neither is the classroom. Keep an open mind, and trust your educator. We’re not doing this for ourselves.

I know that I could go on, and there is certainly much more we will learn in the days and weeks ahead. And that’s right—weeks. I am not hopeful that we will return to what we consider to be normal for quite some time. This is the new normal. All I know is that my dad was right. Life could get tough again, maybe not quite like it was in the 1930s, but certainly a far cry from what we all know as the American way. In the end, though, it will make us tougher. Our steely resolve will help us get through this, and prepare us for whatever the future may hold. 



Now who wants some corn?

Dr “Going The Distance“ Gerlich

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