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moon-light-jukebox · 4 years

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see? - [Reid x Reader] - Chapter 3

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Summary: Months after Reader left, Reid has tried to put his life back together. He’s never stopped trying to find Reader, but he may find her in the worst way possible.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k for Chapter 3

Content Warning: Normal Criminal Minds stuff. Mentions of drug addiction. This series has a villain, and he harms women. There is no s*xual assault, but there is brief talk of torture, and then the death of the victims. Spoiler: Our unsub targets pregnant women, one of the infants does not survive. Reader and her baby are fine. I don't go into detail, but if you need to skip this, I understand.

A/n: How can I ever thank you all enough for being so patient with me? That being said, this chapter does end on a cliffhanger that you probably saw coming if you read “River” by @yours-truly-r. She shared this plot with me, so this is my version. I’ll try my best not to make you wait too long for chapter 4. Chapter 3 & 4 are in Spencer’s point of view, but the remainder of the series will be in Reader’s POV.

-- Linear Progression --

(Spencer’s POV)

The night we came back from my first case with the BAU, Morgan declared that he was going to a bar near his apartment to "get lucky." When I pointed out the fact that it was almost 2 am, he had told me, "time is an illusion, Pretty Boy."

That was the first time he called me pretty boy, along with the first time I tried to explain a theoretical concept he had no interest in hearing.

He was right to a degree. The way we understand time is an illusion. Time doesn’t happen in the linear way that we as a society perceive it to. The physics of time are still widely debated, but the running hypothesis is that everything that has ever happened is still happening right now. Every single moment in time is happening all at once, and it always will be.

Morgan didn’t “get lucky” that night, but he did give me a ride back to my apartment. I think that was the beginning of our friendship; I had never been able to understand the social constructs of relationships and friendships, but I think he felt some sort of responsibility for the skinny kid with glasses who was babbling about the physics of time at 3 am.

My friendship with Derek Morgan was one of the most important of my life.

Which is why I wasn't going to murder him for banging on my door at 7 am.

“Open up, Pretty Boy!”

Grumbling, I got out of bed and padded down the hallway towards my living room where Morgan was pounding on the door so hard, I was concerned it was going to fly off its hinges.

“If you break my door, you’re gonna fix it,” I muttered out when I finally pulled the door open.

The man who was the closest thing to a brother I had just smiled at me. “I restore houses, kid. It’d be an improvement.”

Smirking, I waved him into my apartment. In the months since…Since February, Morgan had made it a habit of coming by several times a week whenever we were in town. I don’t know if the rest of the team knew he did it, I don’t know if they were as worried about me as he was, but it wouldn’t have surprised me.

“Coffee?” I asked, making my way into the kitchen.

"We'll grab some on the way," he said, flopping down on my couch. "We have a case; I told Hotch I'd swing by and get you. It's wheels up as soon as we get there and finish the briefing."

I frowned. “I didn’t get any message.”

“I know. I asked Garcia to let me wake you.” He turned his head around to look at me. “You haven’t been sleeping, kid.”

He wasn’t wrong. “It’s…I’m trying, Derek.”

I didn’t need to say it, because he knew it. Much like time, recovery isn’t a linear process. You start, you stumble, you go back, sometimes you go up then down. It’s an imperfect journey because there isn’t a finish line; addiction can’t be beaten, only beaten back.

Derek Morgan had been beside me through every step of my recovery.

Lumbering off the couch, he walked over to stand before me. “Reid, you’re doing the best you can. Everyone stumbles.”

I shook my head. “It’s different. I can…I can still see it. I can still see it all, Morgan.”

I could still see the look on Ben’s face when he found the vials of Dilaudid I had hidden all around my apartment. I could still remember the look on Hotch’s face when he told me she was gone. I could still see the anger on Garcia’s face when she refused to help me find her.

Most of all, I remember how y/n looked when I told her I would kill her, give up her precious life, for one more moment with Maeve. Every morning, right before I wake up, that memory flashes behind my eyes.

I’ve called in every favor I’m owed, reached out to every connection; no one could find her. She vanished.

I quickly realized the only way she could vanish like that is if she had help from inside the bureau, and if I had to guess, I’m sure I know who helped her. If she went to all these lengths, she didn’t want to be found, least of all by me.

"We'll find her, Spencer," Morgan said gently, pulling me from my thoughts.

He said the words to comfort me, but even he knew they weren’t true. No one would find y/n y/l/n until she wanted to be found.

Nodding my head, I made my way back towards my bedroom to get ready for the case.

Making amends is very big in the recovery process. I wanted to make amends to y/n, and while I wanted that to be in the traditional sense, I settled for a symbolic one.

I tried to make myself into the man she thought I was before that night. Every time I felt the itch crawl up my spine, I thought of her face. It didn't make the craving go away; it just made it easier to bear.

I didn’t deserve to have her back in my life, but I wanted to be someone who did.

After I had finished getting ready, I made my way over to my bedside table to pick up the coin I carried with me everywhere, running my fingers over the edges before placing it in my pocket.

Two hundred and forty-seven days sober, and each one of them was for her.

We never made it to the bullpen that morning. Hotch called and informed us that it was wheels up "immediately," and that we would debrief on the plane. Morgan and I were the last members of the team to arrive. He took a seat on the couch beside Callahan while I opted to sit at the table across from Hotch and JJ.

“Garcia is going to be out for the remainder of the week. She has the flu,” our unit chief informed us, his eyes fixed on the tablet in front of him.

Morgan toyed with his phone, no doubt trying to text his ‘baby girl’ before take-off. “Who is going to be running things from here since she’s out? Kevin?”

Hotch nodded, but I couldn’t help but notice he seemed distracted. “He’s the most familiar with Garcia’s systems.”

“Is that what they’re calling it these days,” Rossi muttered just a bit too loudly, earning a mock glare from Hotch, a confused look from Kate, an eye roll from Morgan and JJ, and a soft huff of laughter from me.

“Let’s get started,” Hotch ordered, drawing all of our focus back to the present. “The Oregon State Police have requested our help.”

I couldn’t help but wrinkle my nose at the tablet in front of me, further proof Garcia wasn’t on this case. Despite how mad she was at me over Y/n, she still always accommodated my wishes for paper files.

The state police?” Morgan asked. “Not the locals?”

"No," Hotch answered, right as I brought up an image on my screen. "He's not sticking to one county."

I heard a strangled gasp from JJ, but I didn't need to look up to know why. “How many?” I asked.

“When the original request was made two women had been abducted. Both of them were pregnant, days from giving birth, and both from the same town of Silverton, Oregon. The first victim was Iris Jenkins. She was a 31-year-old woman, and she was 40 weeks and 2 days gestation when she was taken by the unsub. The M.E. estimates he held her for less than 24 hours before she died.”

“The baby?” JJ asked, her voice thick with emotion.

“He was left outside of a local hospital in Silverton. He was completely unharmed. The next intended victim is Nancy Williamson. She was abducted outside her workplace. Also 40 weeks pregnant with a boy.”

“Could that be a coincidence?”

Hotch still didn’t look up from his tablet. “It could have been before the latest victim.”

“But Nicole Williamson escaped?” Morgan asked. “That’s lucky. Did she give a description of the guy?”

“No, she said he kept her blindfolded and bound to a chair.”

That caused me to pause. "That doesn't make sense. Why would the unsub blindfold them if he plans on killing them anyway?"

Rossi spoke for the first time. “Psychological torture? Sensory deprivation?”

I thought about that as I swiped through the crime scene photos; pausing when I saw a photograph of a letter on the screen. "He makes them write letters?”

“Just the first victim and the third. The one that got away was only held for 12 hours.”

I frowned. “Is this blood? Or just red ink?”

“The first is red ink, the second letter is still being processed.”

It was obvious based on the letter spacing and how many loops were in the letters that a woman wrote this letter. Based on the contents of the letter, I could also assume she was under duress.

Hotch spoke again, pulling my focus. “Morgan, I'd like for you and JJ to drive up to Silverton. Visit Miss Williamson and ask if she's up for a cognitive interview, then visit the M.E., ask him if he remembers anything about the first victim.”

“Where was the…” JJ’s question trailed off when he got to the same image Kate’s hand had been frozen over for the last 47 seconds, the same photo that was described in the incident report that Hotch had on his screen.

My unit chief, my friend, cleared his throat before he spoke. “Kayla Whitmore was found an hour ago in Eugene, Oregon. The autopsies are already underway, and the scene is being processed.”

“The cause of death seems pretty apparent,” Morgan said with a look of disgust on his face.

"The time between this most recent kill and the last abduction is much shorter. We need to move fast," Hotch said, his voice grave. "Kate, I'd like for you to come with me to the FBI satellite office in Bend, that's where we're landing. Kayla Whitmore's credit card was used to buy gas right outside the town limits. Rossi, I'd like for you and Reid to ride out to Eugene. It should be undisturbed."

"I already don't understand this guy," Rossi muttered. "The first baby survives, the third doesn't. The second victim is blindfolded, but it doesn't appear the others were. He makes them write their own letters. Then he uses the third victim's credit card. This behavior…it's erratic."

“Is the message on the wall the same in both crime scenes?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes.”

The media hadn’t named our unsub yet, but I was sure it wouldn’t be long, especially once word of Kayla Whitmore reached the public. This type of violence always draws attention.

Rossi was moving around the room, silent, but his eyes moving rapidly over everything. “He’s a cocky son of a bitch, I’ll give him that.”

I nodded. “Do we have the original note?” One of the deputies brought over an evidence bag, inside of it was the wrinkled piece of paper. “Have we analyzed this yet?”

The man nodded. “It’s red ink, just like the last.”

"It makes sense; blood might start to coagulate and make it more difficult to work with. Rossi, come here." I called, offering him the note.

“Give justice to the weak and the fatherless; maintain the right of the afflicted and the destitute. Rescue the weak and the needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked,” he read. “It sounds biblical.”

“It is. It’s Psalm 82, verses 3 through 4.”

“Was the first note biblical?”

“The first victim was made to write, ‘Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them.’ That’s from Ephesians. There are similar themes in both letters.”

“So, he’s perverting the bible to fit his own fucked up narrative? How original.” The older man handed the paper back to me. “We have to find out how he’s choosing them.”

My gaze moved over to the right wall of the room. "Did the unsub leave any prints when he wrote on the wall?"

It wasn't the first message I'd seen written in blood, but I don't think it's something you ever get used to. “’Do you see this, son of man?’ could be another biblical reference. It’s Ezekiel chapter 8, verse 17. “Do you see this, son of man? Yet you will see still greater abominations than these.’”

“So, are the children abominations? Or the mothers?” The deputy said quietly.

“The mothers,” I answered. “He doesn’t harm the children. I think it must go against his…moral code.”

The deputy scoffed behind me, and I was inclined to agree; the idea that someone could do something like this and have a moral code was almost impossible to imagine.

But devils hide in plain sight all the time.

“His rage is escalating,” I pointed out.

I heard the deputy ask Rossi what that meant.

“This guy is a bum,” the man who developed the art of profiling explained. "He can't get a girlfriend, and he has this idea in his mind that it’s the women’s fault. He thinks women owe him sex, love, whatever he wants.”

I walked away from the wall, turning to face the two men. “He thinks they’re dirty, unclean. It’s why he makes them write the note. By making them say they deserved what he did to them, he’s humiliating them even after death.”

The deputy’s face was pale as he survived the scene around him. “Why does he make them leave the messages in their own blood?”

“Only one message is from them,” I replied, gesturing to the evidence bag. “The message in the blood is from the unsub.”

Before we exited the room, I turned back to that message again, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

Both victims had been discovered in the exact same way. The women were naked, stabbed multiple times, but with no signs of sexual assault. They were positioned in the middle of the blood-soaked mattress, their arms spread wide.

He had left the same message on the walls of the room, written in the blood of the woman he killed.

“Do you see this, son of man? Do you see?”

“The media is calling him The Prophet.”

Rossi scoffed. “I bet it was that wet behind the ears deputy who leaked the note and told him the kid’s biblical theories.”

Rossi and I had arrived at the FBI office in Bend, Oregon about an hour ago. Kate and Hotch had already set up; JJ and Morgan were on their way back from Silverton now.

“So, what do we know about this jag-off?” Rossi questioned, staring at the evidence board.

Hotch came to stand at the head of the conference table, his eyes sharp, his voice clipped. "Reid, Dave, what did the M.E. say about the Eugene autopsies?”

"He said he suspected it was a botched c-section. Kayla was just over 40 weeks pregnant, but he said it's not uncommon for first-time mothers to go up to 42 weeks.”

“I know that’s right,” I heard JJ mutter from the speaker placed in the center of the table.

“Indicates a lack of medical knowledge,” Morgan offered. “Because we know this guy isn’t squeamish.”

I agreed with my friend but didn't comment on it; my mind already on another topic. "What's interesting is that Kayla had an anterior placenta, meaning it attached to the front of her uterus. Usually, the placenta attaches to the posterior wall, meaning it's more towards her back. Because of the unusual placement of the placenta, I think that the death of this fetus was accidental."

“It wasn’t a fetus, Reid,” Kate snapped. “It was a baby.”

I cleared my throat, meeting her angry gaze. I knew Callahan was the guardian of a young girl, and based on my years working with fellow agents who were also parents, I knew it was best not to argue about definitions and semantics. "I'm sorry, Kate," I murmured.

Her gaze softened. "It's fine. Sorry. This case is just…this is a lot." She looked down to swipe across her tablet screen. "This child was a boy too?"

I nodded. “All three of the victims were pregnant with boys.”

“So, he wants boys?”

Rossi turned to Kate. “He wants mothers of boys. Probably his way of killing his mother over and over again.”

“But how does he know the babies are boys?” JJ asked.

“So, what do they have in common?” Hotch asked. “Let’s add Nicole Williamson into the mix too, what do we have?”

“There were quotes from the bible in the two complete notes. Those specific verses are often referenced when they speak about protecting children,” I said, my eyes moving over the files. “The women were all in their 20’s. They were all at least 39 weeks pregnant, and...huh, there’s not a father named in any of the medical charts.”

“But how does he know that!” JJ huffed again in frustration.

“And are we sure this unsub is a guy?” Callahan questioned. “There was no sign of sexual assault.”

“If we follow statistics, women take babies, and men take children. With that in mind, it would be safe to assume this was a woman, but the amount of rage we’re seeing makes me think it’s a man.” I turned my back to the team, my eyes moving over the crime scene photos. "The letter was written under duress, but the language is very misogynic. Based on the information Kevin gathered about Kayla's online life, she had a normal amount of self-esteem. It's out of character that she'd talk about herself this way. By all accounts, she was excited for the baby. It's also incredibly difficult to stab someone 54 times. All the women would have fought him until the end. He'd have to be stronger to subdue her. It's a biological instinct, mothers' will stop at nothing to protect their children."

Hotch had pulled out his phone before I finished speaking, dialing Kevin Lynch to give him the criteria of the person we were searching for. "We need women in the Bend, Oregon area that are close to giving birth. There will not be fathers listed on the medical charts. She'll be at least 39 weeks into her pregnancy."

“Alright, so that would leave us with…” Kevin wasn’t able to finish his sentence before an alarm started blaring over the speaker, almost drowning out Kevin’s yelp of surprise.

“What is it?” Hotch asked. “Did something happen?”

"I…I don't know, sir," Kevin answered after he had finally gotten the alarm to quiet. "I was running the search, and…it triggered some sort of system-wide alarm. It completely locked me out of Penny’s system.”

Morgan clicked his tongue. “That doesn’t make any sense. Penelope wouldn’t set some alarm without a reason.”

“Wait. Kevin, was there any sort of message that came up when you triggered the alarm?” Hotch asked, his tone urgent.

There was a weird tension on Hotch’s face while he waited for Kevin to reply. “Yeah, uh, just a dialogue box that says ‘Nightingale.’”

“Nightingale?” Kate asked. “Isn’t that the…”

Hotch didn't reply; he hung up abruptly while Kevin was still speaking. I felt a chill run down my spine when I noticed his hands trembled slightly.

“What is it, Hotch?” Rossi asked urgently.

But he never got a chance to answer; a deputy stormed into the room. "We just got a report of an abandoned car outside of a grocery store about half a mile from here. It's registered to a young woman, and there was an empty infant car seat strapped in the back."

Hotch took the paper from him but didn't look at it. His eyes were screwed shut, and his shoulders were tense.

I heard when the voice spoke on the other end of the line. I heard the deep breath Hotch let out before he spoke.

“Penelope, I need to know where y/n is.”

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Permeant Taglist : @rachelxwayne @pinkdiamond1016 @sickeninglyshoujo @justagirllookingforherplace @nanocoool @andiebeaword @imjusthereformggcontent @rainsong01 @violentvulgarvolatile @mys2425 @al3xmnd @imfalling-inlove @cielo1984 @shadyladyperfection @kissingvalentino @goofygubler14 @levylovegood @diesinspanishbcimhispanic @criminalmindzjunkie @addie5264 @hopefulfangirl24 @vellichor01 @ellegreenawayapologist @mcntsee @eevee0722 @peacedolantwins2 @ashwarren32 @goldencherrymooon @pumpkin-reads @mood---board @gublersbooblers @lesbian-emilyprentiss @badkittybang @quxxnxfhxll @jessayln-jpeg

All Spencer Reid: @mediocre-writer @haihappen5 @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist

See? Series taglist: @bluegoopplaidsalad @notasofti @bisoner @haylaansmi @ameliamonster @amirahroronoa @gredvb @riley-the-pan-nonbinary @solangeltorres @gwendolyn02 @sallyjacksontheweirdauthor @fangirl-nonsense @immahotmess @falcon-arrows @obsessivereaderchick @flor-sin-petalo @rexorangecouny @keomoon @hermanthewormman @sakurashortstack @criminallminds @boiled-onionrings @sierraraeck @t0xicllama @thequeerishere555 @lexiessimagination @blameitonthenight21 @abbyg217 @lil-roaster @wooya1224 @faesyl @tessa-laurel @little-blue-fishie @fandomyfangirl @youaremyfiveever @evelyncade @sunshine-ncs @maikanna @wishiwasabook @swiftingday @thelastfirerbender @alligatorrampage @notebookgirl30 @forever-a-cynical @alligatorrampage @samayoshito @readandreid @mvlanchqly @odetobeetlebum @notebookgirl30 @meowiemari @calm-and-doctor

Let me know if you’d like to be on any taglist.

#Spencer Reid #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fan fic #criminal minds angst #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #Spencer reid fic #Dr Reid #Reid #Spencer Reid x y/n #Spencer Reid x you #Reader insert #Dr Spencer Reid x Reader #Reid x Reader #Spencer Reid imagine #Criminal minds imagine

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sunqyu · 4 years

Text

~ Treasure reaction to you getting the corona-virus pt. 2

Request: Nope, just wanted to make this myself. Feel free to send in requests here! You can find part 1 with the rest of the boys here.

Stay safe and hope you enjoy! - Nova

Asahi

wouldn’t worry too much

actually worries more about you worrying than about you being sick

turns on the sound of his phone-notifications for the first time in his life because he wants to help you asap when you need anything

records little snippets of the song he’s working on to ask for your opinion

makes a ‘beating the rona’-playlist for you with loads of calm but happy songs

knowing you could use some distraction

late night phonecalls while he’s working or drawing

with peaceful moments of silence when he’s focused

and sweet little comments to check if you’re still awake

‘The moon’s a really cool shape right now, can you see it too?’

sometimes you’ll hear him hum little tunes while you doze off to sleep

Yedam

incredibly caring right away

would probably ask your parents what helps you the most when you’re sick

‘Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her.’

every time you ask him for something you need he’d bring something extra

even though he’s super caring I don’t think he’d want to call or text the entire time

because he seems pretty chill and knows you’ll let him know whenever you do need anything

also very aware of how important it is for you to rest

so instead of constant questions or worries he’d text you a few times a day

and then calls right before he goes to bed at night

‘I’m so happy to hear you’re throat’s starting to feel better. Can’t wait to hold you again.’

in his soft sleepy voice

Doyoung

sickness? what sickness?

all you have is laughing fits from the weird youtube-vids he sends you

even though laughing does kinda hurt but it’s better than just coughing

no one better at keeping your mind off the soreness than Doyoung

he wouldn’t be too worried except for the occasional ‘How u feelin’?’-text

which he sends along with a meme

not being able to see you for so long does make him realize how much he likes spending time with you

so be ready for a list of original date-ideas he found on twitter came up with all by himself for when you feel better

Haruto

would get a liiittle whiney over not getting to hold you for so long

googled how long it usually lasts

‘Only 4 more days to go!’ ‘That’s not really how it works, though.’ ‘Well google said so and I don’t think I’ll survive 5 more days without you.’

later on you hear from the others that he mentioned getting sick on purpose so you could be sick together as if it was the best and most romantic idea ever

but luckily they told him what a terrible idea that was and he eventually agreed

still thinks it would’ve been romantic though

sends you a plushie instead to keep you company while he can’t

even put a mask on the plushie so it “can’t get sick”

Jeongwoo

can’t believe your ‘emergencycovidresearch’-date to prevent the both of you from catching the virus wasn’t effective enough

immediately switches to plan B and researches again

because he’s determined to help you out as much as possible

more worried than he’ll ever admit but you’ll notice it anyway

you’d get a new corona-tip every couple of minutes

‘oh wait no, that one only works for stomach flu. don’t do that one! abort! DON’T!’

while you were still reading a ‘headache’-article he sent you about 7 tips before that one

‘I wish there was a magic word to just make it go away.’

endless cuddles when you feel better to make up for lost time

‘Pffft, I wasn’t worried.... but never get sick again. Promise?’

Junghwan

video-dates all day, everyday

from when he wakes up to when he goes to sleep pretty much

props his phone up on random unstable objects and apologizes 28197x times when “you” fall

wants you to feel like he’s there so you don’t get lonely

and because he misses you obvs

but probably still too shy to say that out loud

would leave one of his shirts in front of your door to wear because ‘it’s more comfortable’

but really just loves seeing you wear them, especially now that you’re not with him

#treasure #treasure reaction #yg treasure #treasure box #treasure 13 #treasure scenario #reaction #scenario #asahi #yedam #doyoung #haruto #jeongwoo #junghwan

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jougogo · 4 years

Text

tsukki, iwa, daichi, kuroo, sakusa, akaashi, and shibayam with an s/o who’s afraid of needles getting a flu shot

a/n: wrote this in honor of me getting of me getting my flu shot yesterday and NOT CRYING FOR THE FIRST TIME WOW WE LOVE GROWTH

characters: tsukishima kei, hajime iwaizumi, sawamura daichi, kuroo tetsuro, sakusa kiyoomi, akaashi keiji, shibayama yuuki

tw: mentions of needles

tsukishima

"kei, i don't like needles," you whined

"well, you still have to get them. are you really this weak? i thought you were stronger," he responded nonchalantly

ok that pissed you off

"HMPHH I'LL PROVE IT TO YOU"

but once you were on the seat with the shiny syringe right in front of you?

all that confidence was g o n e

"remember, you said you'd prove it to me." he smirked

you gulped and shut your eyes tightly

you could've sworn you felt his hand rest on your thigh as the shot was administered

you don't know what you were expecting, but the sting was only momentary and within a couple seconds, you were finished.

"ouch." you quietly yelped.

"see, you were just being a dramatic. tsk, weakling," he flicked your forehead

nurse looked kinda concerned ngl

but afterwards he'll carry your bags for you and open the doors bc he's proud

"good job, my weakling,"

"tsukki istg"

iwaizumi

iwa knew about your fear of needles

he found out when he noticed you grip the pushpin tightly between your fingers everytime you have to pin sticky notes to the corkboard you had above your desk

so when it was flu shot season, he'll def volunteer to get it done together w you

iwa bby being such a gentlemen gahh i cant

i can see oikawa as someone who was prob also afraid of needles, so iwa knew how to handle situations like this

"iwa-chan but they're pricking my arm and i'm gonna be numb how am i going to practice volley-"

b o n k

"get over it brattykawa"

jkjk he'll be so gentle and patient with you

"hey hey it's okay, dont look at the needle. look at me" he turned your face towards his, cupping your cheek to prevent you from seeing the syringe from your peripheral vision

you gazed into his pretty green eyes.

oh, how they resembled a lush rainforest, full of tropical plants and-

before you could even realize it, the needle jabbed into your tender arm

"ouch," you groaned, leaning your head against his muscled chest.

"see, you did it!" he congratulated you, his lips curving into a small smile as he patted your head

he rolled up the sleevs of his t-shirt to reveal gloriously toned beefy biceps as the nurse administered his flu shot

ok this view is def worth the pain

as expected, he took it like a champ. manz didn't even tense up

afterwards he'll take you out for ice cream hehe

daichi

when you confessed to daichi about your fear, he was so confused

"but i see you sewing stuff all the time?"

"dai that's different im not sticking the needle in my body bro"

ohhh ok ok now he gets it

he'll be so supportive the entire time!

"hey, i know you'll do great, okay? you're the bravest person i've ever met. you dont think a little thin piece of metal will get to you, do you baby?" he whispered reassuring words into your ear and brushing a stray piece of hair away from your face

when it was time for the nurse to give you the shot, you curled your body towards him ever-so-slightly

but he noticed and he thought it was the cutest thing

"hey, i'll protect you, don't worr-" he was cut off

you were gripped his shirt tightly in your fist and wincing at the pain

"ow ow ow" you mumbled into his shoulders as you felt the sting

"you're doing so good, sweetheart," he ran his hand up and down your back, attempting to sooth you

when it's all finally over he'll drive you over to his place so he can cuddle and "protect" you from the scary movie he very conveniently insisted on playing.

kuroo

"babe, you know you have to get your flu shot. what if you accidentally pass a deadly flu to my grandpa? you'd have to stop coming over to my house,"

your loving boyfriend kuroo was currently trying to get you to release your tight grip from the front door of your house

"i don't want to get your grandpa sick, but i don't want to have a needle poke me," you wailed, tears flowing down your cheek

he got tired and just carried you in his strong arms to the car and drove to the hospital, despite your protests

"THIS IS KIDNAPPING TETSU, YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME," you screamed

he just whistled and rolled down the windows so everyone can hear

ofc, you shut up right then and there

"i'll get you back for this," you hissed

once you got to the hospital, you had no other choice but to oblige to kuroo as he dragged you through the halls to the vaccination rooms

the nurse was kind, but your heart was pounding

"te-tetsu, will you hold my hand" you whimpered when the nurse went to retrieve the tray

"of course, babygirl", he replied, putting his hands on top of your trembling ones

his large hands completely enveloped yours

when the nurse pricked the syringe into your arm, he squeezed your hands

"see, that wasn't too bad, right?"

"yeah, whatever" *sniffle sniffle*

also the type to take you for ice cream afterwards.

sakusa

"you may not come near me until you have received your flu shot," your beloved boyfriend declared

"omi omi but i need you. and also we were just cuddling this morning bruh" you pouted. "please please please will you come with me" *cue the puppy eyes*

"fine" he grunted.

at the hospital he refuses to sit next to you, insisting that he stands def not bc he's concerned abt the germs on the seat

when you froze upon seeing the needle, he put one of his big hands on your shoulder

"you can hold my hand,"

"really?"

"don't make me take it back"

"okie"

you put your other hand on top of his, your arm draping across your body

his fingers intertwined around yours and clasped it when you winced at the pain

he'll draw you a bath when you get home and wash your body for you!!

so sweet and loving 10/10 experience

akaashi

you were currently hiding under a desk

specifically, the doctor's desk

"my love. it's no use if you hide, we're already here," akaashi sighed

he spent the last 2 hours dragging you to the nearest clinic for a flu shot

"you need to protect yourself so you don't get hurt," he had explained calmly

only for you, his sassy s/o to retort

"so why are you dragging me to a clinic just so i can get punctured by a needle? isn't that like, pain? which im supposed to protect myself from?"

someone help this poor bby boy

but somehow he had managed to lure you into the clinic

"alright. this is the last level i have to conquer. and then everything should be fine again" he thought to himself.

just the shot. just a lil pinch. right?

w r o n g

you were hysterical and sobbing

frankly, he felt really bad. but this had to happen at some point, right? after all, your fear of needles had started since you were a child. he was bound to have experienced something like this, as your dutiful boyfriend

he actually felt really bad

so he turned to the method that has worked for him time and time again to sooth his anxiety

"here, play with my fingers, it'll distract you" he reached out his hand to you and helped you out from under the desk

it worked!!

when the nurse came back, he rubbed the back of your hand, a silent "im here for you"

definitely lots of comfort and cuddles afterward!

"see, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

shibayama

the syringe was right in front of you and the nurse was currently disinfecting your arm with the alcohol wipe.

when he saw you tense up at the touch, he'll whisper lots of reassuring words into your ears

"hey. you got this, i promise! it'll just be a little sting, and the pain is only temporary."

when he saw tears welling up in your eyes, he'll swipe them away with his thumb, caressing your cheeks.

"make me proud,"

how could you say no to his puppy eyes??

"i'll try, yuuki," you sniffled

he put his hand on your shoulder, gently drumming his fingers to the tune of your favorite song to help distract you

his other hand rubbing your palm

after everything's done, he'll give the bandaid little kisses!!

awwww he's trying to kiss ur pain away my sweet baby

he wants you to know that even through pain, he'll be there by your side.

will take you out for ice cream pt.3

tags!!: @aka-a-shii (anna thank you for getting me into writing i hope i did akaashi justice), @toshisgarden (ily big sis mwah) @gigis-galaxy(bc ILY GIGI)

#the fact the 80% of these are based on my past experiences...#i-this is embarrassing #haikyū!!#haikyuu!!#tsukishima x reader #haikyuu tsukishima #iwaizumi x reader #hq iwaizumi #daichi x you #daichi headcanon #kuroo x you #kuroo headcanons #hq sakusa #sakusa #akaashi #akaashi x you #haikyuu shibayama #shibayama

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lazyflan · 4 years

Text

JamiKali SickFic, kinda

English is not my first languaje so be kind and if you notice errors please tell me to correct them! Also, my english it's mediocre at best when I'm tired and I haven't sleep in like 24hrs so yeah, this is bad. I don't know what I wrote, so just enjoy, I guess?

---------------------

After Jamil’s OB Kalim started to notice how much he actually depended on Jamil to survive the day.

He used to be awoken by Jamil in the morning, followed by eating breakfast made by him, he also needed Jamil to help him in classes that he didn’t understand and to keep himself awake during these. After classes he would eat some pastries that Jamil made for him and then they studied together, he struggled a lot so the only way to understand the material passed on classes was that Jamil would tell him what to do step-by-step or he couldn’t understand.

But now that he saw how much he kept Jamil behind he decided to became more independent.

The first sleepless nights where he couldn’t forget what Jamil told him during his OB he started to learn some things, like how to put on his makeup, it wasn’t the best the first few times, but after a whole night trying and re-applying makeup he got the hang of it. It didn’t look as good or neat as how Jamil made it, but it passed unnoticed by his fellow classmates, except the ones from Pomefiore, who remarked on it every so often.

He even started to even cook for himself! It wasn’t as good as Jamil’s coking, but it filled his stomach enough to not get hungry until lunch. And after class he started buying snacks that could give him enough energy to continue until dinner.

For his studies he started to join Azul and the Leech twins on the library, he maintained Floyd distracted enough to not bother Azul and Jade, and in exchange they explained the concepts he didn’t understand in class.

He actually managed to not bother Jamil that much and he blossomed during that time, Jamil started to get better grades on most subjects and now that had more time free and away from him he started to make more friend in the dorm.

--------------------

Everything fine, as fine as he could be, now that he knew his childhood friend actually hated his guts. Until he got sick.

He wasn’t accustomed to being sick, last time he got the flu was a couple of years ago. But when he gets sick everyone knows, he stops being active, his attitude gets more gloomy and gets clingier than usual.

It was the first time he got sick without Jamil by his side helping him.

It started on his last class, his head started to hurt ever so slightly, so he thought it was because they had read a lot during that class. But the bad feeling continued during the day. He didn’t eat snacks because he started feeling slightly nauseous, and after that he couldn’t keep up with Floyd during the study session, Azul had given a look at him and sent him to his dorm to get some rest because he “Looked like he was going to faint in any moment”.

When he arrived to his room he went to the bathroom, to notice he actually looked very pale in contrast to his usual tone of skin.

In that moment everything that happened during the last weeks came crushing into him. He felt tired, sad and melancholic. So, for the first time since he arrived to Night Raven College he skipped dinner. He supposed that no-one would notice, after all Jamil wasn’t maintaining an eye on him and the rest wouldn’t think anything from it.

He slipped into his bed sheets and feeling feverish he fell into a dreamless sleep.

--------------------

He woke up thanks to the feeling of a cold hand on his forehead.

He slowly opened his eyes to see Jamil looking him with a worried gaze.

“J-Jamil?” He asked, even when he felt his throat hurt.

That made Jamil notice he was awake.

“Kalim, you have a fever, you should sleep” He responded while he slowly caressed his hair.

With the calm feeling of having Jamil next to him he slowly fell into sleep again.

After what he thinks where a couple of hours sleeping he woke up to Jamil giving him some medicine and a little of soup and water. After that he again fell asleep to Jamil whispering reassurances of him getting better in no time.

He was in and out of sleep, but whenever he opened his eyes Jamil was there to quickly help him with whatever he needed.

--------------------

According to some of his peers a couple of days after that, he was with a high fever for a couple of days and Jamil didn’t leave his side during that time. And that he was the one that noticed his absence at first. When he questioned about Kalim’s whereabouts and nobody had answered he had gone directly to Kalim’s room to find him burning up on his bed.

Jamil had taken care of him during those days, to the point he didn’t sleep and skipped classes.

But once Kalim was feeling better and could actually think and process things Jamil disappeared from his side.

During the days leading to his complete recovery Kalim hadn’t seen Jamil at all. But he wanted to thank Jamil for helping him and ask him why he did it. Because didn’t Jamil hated him?

It took him a couple of days until he managed to find Jamil alone on the Scarabia dorms so he could talk with him.

“Jamil” He called waiting to being noticed by the other.

“Yes?” Jamil looked at him.

“Can we talk?” He asked shyly “In private?” He added knowing that they could be interrupted by his peers.

Jamil send him a questioning look, but the grabbed his arm and draw him to his room.

Once in Jamil’s room they looked at each other awkwardly.

“…so?” Jamil started “What did you wanted to talk about?”

“I just want to thank you… and apologize” Kalim started.

“Ok, then do it” Jamil responded harshly.

In that moment it was like a button was pressed in Kalims mind and he just started talking.

“I-I’m sorry I was such a bad friend, I’m sorry that I never noticed how you felt, even if you were supposed to be my best friend, I’m sorry for never telling you how thankful I was for everything you have made for me, I’m sorry I never acknowledged the sacrifices you did for me. I always took you for granted and I never saw how unhappy you were with me.” He started to say gibberish at this point, but he didn’t cared, he wanted to show Jamil how sorry he was. His body was trembling and he didn’t know at what point pitiful sobs started to wreck his body.

He stopped when suddenly he felt a pair of strong arms circling his body.

“Kalim, calm down” He heard “It’s okay, just calm down and we can talk about this”

Knowing that Jamil wasn’t going to kick him out for his outburst he relaxed a little and threw himself into the secure embrace of Jamil. It remembered him when they were little and Kalim had nightmares and Jamil would calm him down.

He sobbed into Jamil chest murmuring apologies for everything that he had done that separated them.

After a couple of minutes and feeling calmer he reluctantly separated from Jamil.

Jamil looked at him for a couple of seconds and sighed. “I should be sorry, during my oberbolt I said a lot of hurtful things to you” he started but was cut by Kalim.

“No! You don’t have to apologize! I was the one that didn’t notice how you were feeling” He exclaimed. “I never made an effort to actually know how you were feeling about the things I did, I took you for granted and that hurt you, I totally understand that you hate me and don’t want to take care of me anymore” He was startled when he heard Jamil chuckling.

“That’s the problem Kalim, I really want to hate you, but I can’t” He said like it was a matter of fact.

“Eh?” Kalim could only look at Jamil gobsmacked .

“When I noticed that you started to make things by yourself I felt useless.” He continued. “When I saw that you started to put on your make up I was tempted to grab you and do it again because I would always find a flaw on it” He said while taking Kalim’s face between his hands and tracing his eyeliner with his thumbs.

Kalim just looked at him astonished by the revelation.

“I even had to stop myself from making you breakfast and snacks when I noticed that you where struggling with that, I also wanted to snatch you from the library to make sure you where understanding everything in class… I guess old habits die hard.”

Thanks to this revelation Kalim felt his eyes sting with tears. For a second Jamils face showed confusion to the reaction, but Kalim completely threw himself to hug his friend. While between sobs he apologized and thanked him for not leaving him alone and for caring for him.

Jamil, knowing that Kalim wouldn’t calm down for the rest of the day, decided to lift Kamil to his bed and just hold him until he saw fit.

He tucked Kalim’s head under his chin and started to stroke his back with his hand in order to calm him down.

In there, Kalim was lulled to sleep thanks the secure feeling of being in Jamil’s arms and the secure heartbeat he could feel coming from Jamil’s chest.

After all he now knew that their relationship wasn’t completely destroyed.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland kalim #twisted wonderland jamil #twst kalim #twst jamil #jamikali #twst bl #fanfic #one-shot #angst #jamil viper #kalim al asim #sickfic

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soysaucevictim · 3 years

Text

Week 3. I’m... struggling.

May 1

I tried to get some sleep in after the all-nighter a bit before 9AM... “got up” around 3PM. This to mean I lied down and didn’t really get any proper sleep, because mind was racing about that project.

But resting was still okay. After I got back up and updated some logs, I did today’s exercise...

First, today’s DD. 50 squats with EC. Manageable, moderately aerobic work. One of the last things I did before things went pear-shaped...

I shortly after found out I lost a family member and I saw what happened. I’m not going to describe it here, for many reasons. But I’ve been dealing with the images and emotional pain since... I probably will in some fashion, for a long time.

Last, Day 13 of BREATH. “Feel“. Yoga was emotionally uncomfortable as hell... but I brought myself to the mat accepting that I was going in feeling extremely tender in that dept. Let’s just say there were some waterworks and a very real sense of survivor’s guilt. That’s all I’m going to say there.

I tried to deal with things with chatting and discretionary venting on Twitter...

I forced myself through another all-nighter to finish that sewing project. Fought against images and waves of intense emotions to keep going. I don’t think I would’ve succeeded at sleeping through the night anyways.

May 2

I tried to sleep again round 8AM - it was more just physical rest till like 10AM. Too restless.

Touched base on what happened with a family member. They were... all of us were... are distraught.

I had a more successful attempt at sleeping for a couple hours after that. Honestly, painful. But it was mutually beneficial and necessary. Probably made the nap easier.

Shortly after, I endeavored to get some working out done.

First, today’s DD. 50 climber taps with EC. Ngl, it took a little psyching myself up to get down and do this. As expected, really started feeling the abs in the last 10-20 reps.

Second, Day 14 of BREATH. “Space“. This was less emotionally fraught - even though there were moments wrapping up that I had twangs of sorrow. It’s too soon to let everything I’m going to need to go... but I imagine, there will be in the future. Too raw and in pain to manage that yet. I did like the back arch balance stands and toe stand moments, the most.

Last, Day 13 of 1′HIIT. Level 3, 1′ rest. Had phone on floor because it was all planks. My climbers ran at more of a jog than a sprint - but then again energy levels wasn’t up to that. The last 2 sets in particular that were the hardest.

Made dinner, did some dishes, chatted and started on that vent art of Virgil to help process things a little. I basically pulled another all-nighter.

May 3

I decided to let care team know about what happened with a local crisis unit/line, before trying to get some sleep.

I woke up proper around 3PM, I think this was modestly more restful.

After some of the usual... was both somewhat relieved and distressed when one of the family member’s friends called his phone. We were able to let his circle know what happened.

I then got to some exercise again.

First, today’s DD. 1′ elbow clicks with EC. I counted 74 reps by the end of the duration. Manageable and simple.

Second, Day 15 of BREATH. “Enter“. Despite walking into this having eaten a lot of wasabi peas - I elected to do full planks and kept back knee raised for high lunge variations upon Adriene’s invitation to. It was nice getting into a sort of flow - gathering what we were going to do next before Adriene instructed a few times.

Last, Day 14 of 1′HIIT. Level 3, 1′ rest. The squat hops were honestly the brutal part, today. Was tempted to not shoot for Level 3, but decided to anyways. Just glad I completed it, today.

Did some of the usual, made some dinner, and finished up that drawing.

I stayed up obscenely late, but not another all-nighter.

May 4

I woke up around 11AM.

Touched base with therapist on the phone. Made a mortuary appointment and asked family to help get me (and Dad) to that appointment later in the week.

Hit the showers, met some more family in person.

Did some of the usual before deciding to add, sort, and transfer the contents of my Anxiety Box into Virgil’s jar. I also decided to start filling the Patton jar with some things I was grateful for. I think this was helpful.

I dusted off Facebook for the first time in like years. Saw that his friends have been pouring condolences onto his page. I was pretty disconnected from his circle of friends... wound up adding many of the ones I recognized hearing about. This was a painful straddle between gratefulness and sorrow.

Had to field another call on his phone. That hurt too. I kind of wished I could unlock it.

I then got going on my workouts, pretty late...

First, today’s DD. 1′ raised leg circles with EC (supine). I counted a total of 45 reps, reversing the direction at the 30″ mark. Doable despite needing to hold head up.

Second, Day 16 of BREATH. “Discipline“. This was an extremely chill day - focusing on extending and slowing down the breaths... definitely well-timed given how tiring/harrowing today has been.

Last, Day 15 of 1′HIIT. Level 3, 1′ rest. Just arm work, I’d say these days are amongst the easiest to get through. Again, good for energy levels.

I wound up in bed around the same time as yesterday.

May 5

I woke up around 11AM again.

I went to Seeking Safety Group again. I wanted and needed to be there. That’s all I’m going to say on that one.

Got home, almost dozing off. But spent all day and night hanging out with a local friend.

I did some dishes and made one of the Hello Fresh Meal. Creamy pesto grillng cheese ciabattas. Me and friend really enjoyed this one.

Among many things - I think sharing DWIT and the first half of “The Poisoner’s Handbook“ were some of the highlights.

We wound up talking the night away, despite it not being the best idea.

Oh well, the bed was made at that point.

May 6

So one of the first things I had to deal with was a morning dental appointment. It was a nice appointment, talked about things with discretion. I’m hoping it may get a tiny bit easier to talk about for it. (Obviously NOT oversharing to anyone and everyone.)

Grabbed some Starbucks and had to get frustrated with LogistiCare, in activating my return trip home. I was honestly getting close to collapse of exhaustion by the time it got to me. (Not going to blame anyone really... it was unfortunate for how bone tired I was.)

Got home and took a short nap, before the mortuary appointment.

I kind of didn’t want to - but after that, I was roped into seeing extended family. It was nice but also further exhausting. But I will say that a highlight was being able to share with my great uncle a series about the Spanish Flu. He likes history stuff and learned a lot of new things about that situation - also was nice tying it in with his interest in stuff like the WW. (Also glad and was struck by all the observed parallels with, uh, what’s been happening with COVID. But I’ll leave it at that.)

Medical history and the like was a welcome distraction. Especially the fact that that great uncle was an interested party to share it to.

Got home again and spent some of the night on the usual and decided that I was only up for catching up on my DDs...

First, yesterday’s DD. 40 side bridges with EC. It was questionable, given sheer level of exhaustion. But I felt like catching up on SOME of my regimen anyways..

Last, today’s DD. 40 windshield with EC. Same thoughts about previous exercise.

Updated some logs and stuff before hitting the sack. In the green zone for once, yet again. I was just so profoundly exhausted at that point.

May 7

I woke up around 11AM.

One the first things I wound up doing was fielding a lot of phone calls to get other appointment-related affairs handled.

Spent some time on the usual and sketching an art idea out that I’m not sure I’ll flesh out just yet. It’s kind of detail-intensive.

Then, I decided to catch up on my exercise regimen.

First, today’s DD. 2′ bicep extensions with EC. I counted 155 reps by the end of it. Biceps felt pretty tired after that one, at that pace. But very doable.

(After watching some YouTube and whatnot...)

Second, Day 17 of BREATH. “Explore“. Man, was this intense on my quads for my energy levels today. But I tried my best to get through it as best as possible. I think the chair poses were especially intense.

Third, Day 18 of BREATH. “Center“. This was alright. I liked the calf raise hold stuff and a lot more of the chill stuff today. Warriors were okay. Still have a ways to go to pull off Crow Pose, but that is a challenging one, for sure.

(After a lot of usual stuff...)

Fourth, Day 16 of 1′HIIT. Level 3, 1′ rest. Intense, but I enjoyed the fact this was mostly jumping jacks. Think the twist jacks were the weirdest part. Got fairly winded by the end.

(After making/eating some dinner and watching some videos for that to settle...)

Last, Day 17 of 1′HIIT.Level 3, 1′ rest. A bit more strength-oriented leg work - what with the leg raises and lunges. Glad I didn’t have to worry too much about doing this in a semi-full stomach (butt kicks do some jostling but generally not as much as like high knees).

I spent some time watching/listening to videos and updating some logs after this.

I got to bed pretty late in the red again... but not an all-nighter.

#adventures with fitness #adventures with hello fresh #family shit/#death/#(this... this was a traumatizing wk)#(i didn't detail what happened more than the fallout... however)#covid mention/#(but that's not related to what happened to us this week)

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badchoicesposts · 4 years

Text

Loyalty or Royalty

Chapter 16

Summary: Mia Bhatt spent years trying to escape her past, trying to escape the feeling of betrayal that was left in her heart after the fire, and she finally had. She was marrying the King of Cordonia and was finally going to get her happily ever after. But, after a momentary lapse in judgement caused her to send a wedding invitation to someone she was sure had forgotten about her, she realizes that sometimes the past has a way of crawling back to you.

Author’s Note: In this fic Anton and The Sons of Earth were caught before the wedding. Also this story will contain flashbacks that will be in italics.

Pairing: Liam x MC (Mia Bhatt), Platonic!Colt x MC, Past!Logan x MC

Word Count: 4,132

Taglist: @flowerpowell, @dcbbw , @texaskitten30, @kingliam2019 @hopefulmoonobject @lovehugsandcandy @los-cafeteros @desireepow-1986 @lovemychoices, @kimmiedoo5

Catch Up: Masterlist

Jason whipped his head around just in time to see Kaneko waltz out from behind the pile of metal.

“Hello, Jason,” Kaneko said, marvelling at the shocked expression on The Brotherhood’s faces.

“What the hell is this?” Jason asked as the rest of the MPC walked out and surrounded them as well.

“Payback,” Colt said with a smirk.

Wallace was seething and he lunged in Mia’s direction. She froze for a split second, and before she could think, she ducked under his outstretched arms, throwing her leg out and kicking him in the shin. The man let out a loud groan, and Mia kicked him one more time in the crotch, smirking at the shocked expression on Colt’s face. However, her moment of victory was soon over because while everyone was distracted, they failed to notice the figure creeping up behind her.

Mia let out a loud gasp as two strong arms wrapped around her waist. Her back collided with Jason’s hard chest as he held her tightly against him, giving her no room to move away. As if holding her so tight that she could barely breathe wasn’t enough, Mia felt the cold metal of a gun against her temple causing her blood to run cold.

“If you even think about trying anything, she’s dead,” he threatened, looking directly at Kaneko.

Mia had been in dangerous situations before, but she had never expected to have a gun to her head. Sure, she had come face to face with the barrel of a gun during the assassination attempt, but that day Drake had managed to push her out of the way before anything had happened to her. But, if Jason decided to pull the trigger now, that would be it for her. She would be dead.

She was faintly aware of the sound of police sirens filling the air and the FBI yelling for him to stand down and release her, but all she could focus on was Kaneko.

“If you come any closer I’ll shoot!” Jason threatened, his voice dripping with malice.

Mia desperately tried to remember anything that Mara had taught her about self defense, but her mind seemed to be drawing a blank. The only thing she could seem to remember was that scene from Miss Congeniality where Sandra Bullock’s character said to remember to S.I.N.G.. But, surely that didn’t work in real life. Even if it did, it would be too dangerous to do it while he had a gun to her head. What if she elbowed him in the stomach, and he pulled the trigger accidentally? She needed to get him to lower the gun.

“C’mon, Jason, you don’t want to kill me. That’ll just make things worse for you,” she said.

She could feel the gun shaking against her head as he hesitated momentarily at her words. However, after a second, his grip on her only tightened.

“I told you I’d kill you if you tried anything. Besides, if I have to go to prison then my life’s already over, so I might as well go out with a bang,” he said, laughing at his own play on words.

Mia fought back a wince at his words, racking her brains for some other way to get him to stand down, or at least lower the gun to a place that a shot wouldn’t be lethal.

“I’m a queen, Jason. Killing me won’t be like killing anyone else. My husband will make sure that you get the harshest punishment possible,” she said.

She could feel Jason’s body tense up once again at her words, but he made no move to release her.

“You have a kid right? Was it a boy or a girl? Do you really want to risk the chance of never seeing them again? Because that’s what’ll happen if you kill me. You’ll be in jail for the rest of your life and that’s all they’ll remember you for. Killing someone. They’re bound to find out. My death would be all over the news. Do you think they would ever forgive you for that?”

Maybe she was pushing it, she wasn’t sure. She wasn’t trained in hostage negotiation, so for all she knew she was making things worse. But, she was trying. All the law enforcement agents continued to yell at him to back away, but she could tell that their words weren’t doing anything to dissuade him from shooting.

Jason lowered the gun ever so slightly, and Mia saw her opportunity. She took a deep breath and before she could properly think over what she was doing, she brought her arm forward and swung it back hard, her elbow colliding with his stomach. She then immediately stomped on his foot before quickly ducking down as Jason let out a pained groan and the air filled with the loud bang of the gun going off.

The FBI and L.A. cops closed in and handcuffed both Hester and Jason. Everything seemed to both freeze and happen too quickly in the next few moments as Mia looked up and noticed Detective Wheeler and another cop bent over the spot where Kaneko was just standing. She couldn’t even remember standing up and running over to them or having Colt join her. She could barely remember an ambulance arriving and paramedics loading Kaneko into the vehicle. She could barely remember Drake escorting her to the car and driving her to the hospital.

“Bhatt, are you okay?” Drake asked softly.

Kaneko had been rushed into emergency surgery and the crew had all gathered into the waiting room, desperate for an update on his condition.

“Apparently all I’m good for is getting the people I care about shot,” she said sarcastically, biting down on her bottom lip to keep from crying.

“It’s not your fault,” Drake tried to reassure, placing an arm comfortingly around her. “Shaw had a gun to your head. If he decided to shoot you would have been dead. You did what you had to do to survive.”

“Yeah and I got my dad shot in the process,” she shot back.

“This is going to sound extremely selfish of me, but better him than you,” Liam’s voice broke through their hushed conversation causing Mia’s head to shoot up.

She immediately jumped out of her seat and launched herself into his outstretched arms.

“Are you alright, my love?” Liam asked, holding onto her for dear life.

“No. Liam, I swear if he dies because of me I’ll never forgive myself,” she said.

“Nothing’ll happen to him. It’s Pop. He survived his car exploding. He’ll survive this,” Colt said, a look of resolution on his face. “He’ll survive this and then we’ll all be free, and this’ll be over.”

Mia exchanged a nervous look with Logan and the rest of the crew. Even now Colt refused to believe that Kaneko wasn’t invincible. However, instead of trying to dispute Kaneko’s mortality with her brother, she simply nodded her head solemnly and snuggled closer into Liam’s side, trying to hide her tears in his chest.

“Do you guys remember that time Toby tried to throw Kaneko a surprise birthday party?” Logan asked, breaking through the tense silence with a soft laugh.

Mia pulled her face away from Liam’s chest and offered him a small smile, moving over to sit down in one of the waiting room chairs and pulling Liam along with her.

“Yeah, and he almost burned down the garage trying to bake him a birthday cake,” Mia concluded, causing everyone to chuckle quietly.

“Do you remember the phase Pop went through where he would only play 80s music in the garage?” Colt asked, the ghost of a smile making its way onto his face.

Mia remembered that time vividly.

~~~

Mia angrily wiped at her eyes as she walked out of the breakroom and into the shop. Even at only ten years old, she always pushed herself to do her best in school. She had been naturally good at school anyway, but she knew how her father would react to her not doing well, so she pushed herself even harder still. It wasn’t because she wanted good grades, although she did, she needed good grades.

The past few weeks had been rough. She had gotten the flu from Colt who had gotten it at school, and her school work had managed to fall on the back burner. Her mother didn’t mind it. Of course, she didn’t. Her ten year old daughter was fighting a fever and a whole horde of flu symptoms. If one or two tests grades dropped down in that time, it wasn’t that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things.

However, things were completely different with her father. He had just finished chewing her out for making a B on a quiz, and she had sat there while he threw criticisms and obscenities at her for the past hour. Kaneko looked up from where he was bent over looking under the hood of a car and let out a soft sigh. Mia missed the conflicted look on his face before he moved over to where she was standing. He crouched down to her level and gave her a soft smile, reaching out and brushing her tears away.

“What can I do to see that beautiful smile again?” he asked softly.

Mia shrugged her shoulders and wrapped her arms protectively around herself. As Kaneko looked at her sadly the sounds of Everybody Wants To Rule The World began to play from the small radio in the corner of the garage. He walked over and turned the music up before making his way back to her. Teppei grabbed her hands and began spinning her around, leading her in a playful and energetic dance. He scooped her up in his arms and spun the both of them around in time with the music, causing Mia to laugh happily and wrap her own arms around his neck tightly.

“I wish you were my dad instead,” she said softly, resting her head on his shoulder.

Kaneko squeezed her tightly for a moment, resisting the urge to tell her that he actually was.

~~~

“No way!” Logan exclaimed.

“Pop didn’t dance!” Colt said, looking at her like she was crazy.

“He did with me. It was only once, but I held onto that ever since,” Mia said, resting her head against Liam’s shoulder.

The next few hours passed by excruciatingly slow. After about three cups of coffee and the crew telling a million stories about Kaneko, the doctor finally came out to give them an update.

“Your Majesty,” she said, properly acknowledging Liam and Mia despite the circumstances. “The bullet missed your father’s heart by just a few inches. When he was brought in, he was in critical condition. But the paramedics managed to get him here just in time. He’s still unconscious right now, but given time, he should make a full recovery.”

“Oh, thank god,” Mia gasped out, finally letting out a relieved breath and decompressing.

“When can we see him?” Colt asked.

“I can take the three of you to see him now,” she responded kindly.

Mia, Liam, and Colt followed the doctor down the hospital halls silently. They were both still buzzing with nervous energy, but it wasn’t nearly as overpowering as it was before they knew about Kaneko’s condition. Mia paused momentarily as they rounded the corner and they saw two burly police officers standing guard in front of a private hospital room. She and Colt exchanged nervous looks but proceeded to follow the doctor into the same room anyway. Once inside, they were met with the sight of an unconscious Kaneko. Their eyes immediately shot down to where he was handcuffed to the bed.

“What the hell is going on?” Colt asked.

Mia looked over to where Liam was giving the both of them a nervous and guilty look.

“This was part of the deal he made,” Liam said. “He traded his freedom for the crew’s.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Mia asked. “He said that everyone would be free as long as we helped them catch The Brotherhood.”

“The FBI wasn’t okay with all of you just getting off without any punishment. So, he offered his freedom for everyone else’s.”

“Why didn’t he say anything?” Mia asked.

“Because he knew it would upset the two of you,” Liam answered. “He asked me not to tell you.”

“Why would he do that?” Colt asked incredulously.

“For the two of you. For The Crew,” Liam said, walking over to where Mia was visibly upset. “I’m so sorry, but this was his decision.”

Mia sunk into his arms as she looked over to the sleeping Kaneko. However, as much as she wanted to stay in Liam’s arms where things always managed to seem okay, she pulled herself away and walked over to where Colt was staring down at his father in disbelief. She pulled him into her arms, and he held onto her tightly.

The next twenty four hours passed by with all of them waiting for Kaneko to finally wake up. Mia was getting stir crazy, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave the hospital. Liam kept trying to tell her to go back to the hotel to get some sleep, but she refused to leave Teppei’s side. When he finally opened his eyes, it took everything in her to keep from bombarding him with questions. Instead, she calmly made her way over to his side and took a hold of his hand.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

Kaneko blinked at her repeatedly, taking a few slow, labored breaths.

“Tired,” he answered, his voice hoarse.

Mia grabbed the pitcher of water that was left on his bedside table and poured some into a small cup for him and helped pour it into his mouth.

“Pop, why? Why did you do it?” Colt asked, approaching the bed and looking down at Kaneko sadly.

Kaneko let out a strained sigh, and Mia perched herself onto the edge of the bed next to him.

“Because, I have a daughter who I’ve made far too many mistakes with and a son that I’ve pushed away for too long. This was my chance to make things right. I can make sure that you live your lives free of the consequences my mistakes have caused,” he said.

Mia fought back another set of tears and rested her head against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her tears falling onto the thin fabric of his hospital gown.

Kaneko tried to wrap his arm around her, but his arm was roughly stopped by the metal handcuffs. The best he could do was wrap his hand around her arm in a comforting manner.

“Don’t apologize. This is how things are meant to be,” Kaneko said.

There was a soft knock on the hospital room door and Bastien entered, causing Mia to sit up and wipe her eyes.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, Your Majesties. But there’s something you have to see,” Bastien said, giving them a sympathetic smile.

Mia got up from her spot on the hospital bed and walked over to where Bastien was standing next to Liam and tapping on his phone. He held the screen out for them to see and a Cordonian newscast started playing.

“...Queen Amelia’s father, Teppei Kaneko, was the leader of the infamous Mercy Park Crew, a gang of car thieves that operated in Los Angeles, California where Her Majesty was born. Our sources have informed us that Kaneko was involved with Anton Severus and the extremist group The Sons of Earth and may have been involved in the fire that burnt down Applewood Orchard.”

#the royal romance #the royal heir #trr #trh #liam x mc #liam #king liam #colt kaneko #colt x mc #colt kaneko x mc #teppei kaneko #ride or die #ride or die: a bad boy romance #rod #rod:abbr #choices #playchoices #my fics #choices fic

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mcrmadness · 4 years

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Woohoo, can’t have a day without anxiety now, can I?

CW talking about teeth and dental stuff, again.

I have talked about my tooth here before and they will have to do root canal therapy for that. But the next free time is only after over 2 weeks. Some days I feel that I can do that just fine, but then some days I wish I could get that started earlier so that this all would be also over sooner.

Right now the tooth isn’t painful really, it can feel cold and hot but I mainly just feel it as a pulse rather than as a pain. But there’s something else about my face that I don’t know if it’s the tooth, my neck muscles or maybe a hormone pimple. These hormone pimples are usually not like regular pimples but they are somewhere under the skin and they are really sore and when I have one next to my mouth, it often causes similar sensations to my face and makes it feel like it’d either be getting numb.

My mom massaged my back a little the day before and I think it helped because yesterday I was actually feeling fine and my face felt okay. But today my face feels super annoying again, it feels like my cheek was swollen when it’s not. Or like something would pull my face muscles or like something was poking the gums. But all these feel on he area where the problem tooth is NOT. I know the nerves of the upper jaw can still cause sensations to the lower jaw but this is just super frustrating because I don’t know if this is just stiff neck, a hormone pimple or the tooth or maybe everything combined.

I just keep worrying about the tooth because what if I should get it fixed asap. I keep worrying about what if the 2 weeks is too long time and everything goes really bad before that.

I keep worrying about everything I do now. If I feel tired, I start worrying that it’s not regular tiredness but what if I’m sick because of the tooth? If my arms shake, I think it might just be something I did but then I start worrying about what if it’s a symptom of something dangerous. Right now I started having anxiety because I felt like I’m too tired to breathe and I failed to recognize if it’s just psychosomatic or if it’s just because I just drank milk after food and am full and sometimes being full feels like that too because I’m getting in bad shape because I don’t like moving. (And I hate it.)

I also hate it when people who have had heart problems, always say that they have been feeling sick. In Finnish they just say that they felt “bad”. And I have absolutely no clue what that means because it can mean both: to feel sick to your stomach, or not feel at your best in general. And every time I start feeling something negative physically, I start to panic because I can only feel good or neutral in order to not get worried. Sometimes I get anxiety from freezing, from shaking, from feeling sick, from having nausea, from being dizzy... I just freak out so easily and my mission will immediately change to: make the feeling go away. That’s why I eat even if not hungry, because sometimes low blood sugar does those feels. Or I drink water. And I get even more anxious if food and water don’t help, but especially if I know that I just have eaten and I know it can’t be low blood sugar. That’s when I start to enter the real panic mood because I need to get the off feeling away asap but I don’t know how because I don’t know what causes it and I start freaking out.

Right now I’m wondering if I should go to my parents’ house again. I have been playing a video game and my neck and back got REALLY stiff but I just don’t know what to do. The past couple of weeks I focused on drawing something just to enter the flow mode/hyperfocus because that makes me forget about my physical from completely and I could stop feeling my mouth and tooth/teeth that way. Right now I don’t know if it’s better to “massage” my face and neck and back to find something that could be linked to the sensations on my face or if I should just try to let it be and see if it will calm down on its own if I don’t constanty irritate it.

Another thing I’m obviously worried about is this whole covid situation and how you cannot wear a mask at a dentist’s appointment because it’s literally someone’s job to investigate the insides of your mouth. And this dentist seems to have lots of customers and she’s not here this week and I really hope that she doesn’t travel anywhere because I want my tooth fixed but preferrably without the covid. I also have to take so huge amount of antibiotics before the dentist’s appoinment because of my heart defect and it’s so big amount that it also kills lots of good bacteria and I THINK it also lowers my own immune system somewhat and I need to be super careful and stay the fuck away from people until my system gets back to normal, so that I won’t catch the covid or any other flu or so. And that’s not all because I have to visit the denstist at least twice for the root canal therapy and that means it’s about 2 weeks until the appointment after the next one, and I have to take the antibiotics again.

Already the previous appointment, altho it was just a checkup, has given me some anxiety because of getting my mouth and nose “exposed” to the air in a public space when I can’t know if anyone with (invisible) covid has been sitting there, breathing the same air as the people who work there.

My mouth really chose the worst time for this all. I try to keep myself distracted so that I’d feel my mouth less and the time would go by faster. I didn’t believe I’d ever say this but I can’t wait for the root canal therapy. I just want this all to be over asap and my mouth back to normal.

#tw dental stuff #mcrmadness' random stuff #anxiety

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vtmusicomp · 5 years

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That Day

I’ve been doing mostly upbeat posts about our time together chronologically up to this point, but since this is glioblastoma day (at least the senate says so!) I wanted to go out of order and share what happened on that fateful day. It really all started in December of 2016. Grant had the flu. It was also around this time he told me he was having slight memory issues; specifically, that he would see people at work who weren’t a regular part of his team and he couldn’t remember their names. I admit to thinking nothing of this – he was turning 45 in January, and I teased him that he was having problems remembering things because of his advanced age. Sometimes I have trouble remembering things I could easily have recalled in my 20s, and I thought it was the same. Here’s a picture of us at BART in San Bruno from that time, on our way to see Primus at the Fox Theatre in Oakland, CA - NYE 2016.

A few days into the new year, he started feeling bad again. He went to urgent care and they told him he was probably just having lingering flu symptoms. He took a couple extra days off work to rest and seemed to get better. I had scheduled time off on 1/19/17 and 1/20/17 to get an outpatient procedure done for my sinuses, so I was recuperating through the weekend and feeling mildly sorry for myself. Saturday 1/21/17 we went to IKEA because I was restless and we were still trying to add a couple small pieces for our condo we’d just bought in May. We went across the street for mid-day ablutions/a snack; I was talking to him about something inane, and he told me to hold on a minute. Then we just sat there in silence…after maybe couple minutes I asked him what was wrong, and he said he didn’t know. The way he described it was he got confused and needed a moment, but then he was himself again. It was such a short blip in the day that I didn’t think too much of it.

Sunday 1/22/17 we went to the mall in Woodland Hills to get birthday gifts for Naomi. While I was purchasing something, Grant went to get coffee from a kiosk. When I was done, I found him waiting for his drink. He told me he had a hard time ordering his coffee, that it took longer than it should and he had gotten confused. There was a lot of noise and activity in that section of the mall – there were children running around and parents yelling, also a couple dogs, in addition to the noise of the coffee kiosk itself – so I could see why that might have been distracting. Again, I didn’t pick up on anything out of the ordinary. We went home and relaxed for a couple hours, but I wanted to try this gastropub in Sherman Oaks we read about online. This picture is from his 45th birthday, on 1/8/17 at Chris and Anne’s house.

Dinner time rolled around and I decided to drive because I chose the place. Usually, he liked to drive us to dinner but we reversed roles that night – and it’s provident we did. I was turning to get on the freeway, and talking to him, when he again told me to hold on a minute. That minute stretched out into the entire length of the drive. At first, I thought maybe he was tired - he had been battling that flu and also had mentioned to me at some point over the weekend that his stomach hurt. I changed my mind and told him since he wasn’t feeling well, we shouldn’t be going out to some random bar we’d never been to before. I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go, but we were coming up on the exit to Van Nuys Blvd, so I got off and headed towards the Mendocino Farms next to Guitar Center in Sherman Oaks.

At this point, Grant had said nothing to me for a while, and I started asking him questions. I wanted to know what his stomach felt like – did he feel like he was going to throw up, was it a dull pain, was it localized in some area? I was thinking maybe he needed to get his appendix taken out or something. He would only grunt at me, which got me thinking maybe he was annoyed with me for asking him so many questions, so I shut up. I confess to being a little annoyed myself that he wasn’t communicating with me (I wish I could take that feeling back). Mendocino Farms is part of a larger structure with a parking garage and a couple different restaurants. I parked and asked him again if everything was ok. He got so frustrated he started talking to me, only what he was saying didn’t make any sense. He was using vowels and consonants but it was all gibberish.

Initially, I couldn’t figure out what was going on, because what was coming out of his mouth sounded so close to actual words, I thought my hearing was the problem. I didn’t always take good care of my ears in the early years of playing in a band; maybe I was losing my hearing. I told him I didn’t know what he was trying to say and asked him to repeat it. I asked if he was talking about the restaurant but he couldn’t tell me. He tried to get out of the car anyway, with the intention of going in to order something, but I stopped him.

I want to describe what this felt like but I’m not sure I have the right words. I got a chill that went right through my body. My head felt just a little faint and I couldn’t quite focus. I wondered if he was having a stroke, but his face didn’t look like it was drooping and he was able to operate all his limbs just fine. We sat there for only a few seconds more and I told him I thought maybe we should go to urgent care. I took Woodman to the Kaiser in Panorama City; it was dark out, raining and cold. The whole drive, he kept talking gibberish to me; and I kept telling him I didn’t understand him but that was ok. Every now and then he’d pepper an actual word in there, which made me think he was making sense and it was just me who couldn’t understand. So, I’d apologize and ask him to repeat himself, he’d respond, I would say I didn’t get it, and so on. It was a loop that went around and around.

When we got there, we went to urgent care first – my default. He had progressed to being able to put some words together – we were at half words, half gibberish. Of course, the intake desk at urgent care told us we should go to the emergency room. The ER is across a driveway in a separate building, so we walked over there in the rain under my umbrella. Someone was waiting to take us back – the urgent care folks had called ahead. Then it was this whirl of activity – four nurses and a doctor getting his vital signs, drawing blood, asking him questions he couldn’t answer because he still couldn’t quite talk. They took him for a CT scan about five minutes after we arrived, and then he was back in his ER bay ten minutes later. The whole time, a lady was screaming in the next room, and hilariously, I felt like I was in a horror film. I mean, turns out we both were, we just didn’t know it yet.

At first, they wouldn’t tell us what was wrong. Panorama City Kaiser doesn’t have neurology, so we did a video conference with the neurologist at the Sunset Kaiser – this was Dr. Guzman, and he would eventually become Grant’s neuro-oncologist. He asked Grant to identify pictures on a laminated sheet. Grant was able to get some of them right, but he couldn’t tell the doc what a cactus was, or a feather, or a chair. By this time, Grant was able to talk again, albeit not confidently, but he could at least form sentences and tell me things. I sent a text to Grant’s sister Kim, telling her what was going on and asking her to help me relay this to his parents, Larry and Connie. Shortly after that I was in touch with Connie, messaging her the little I knew about what was happening. She told us they were coming out first thing the next day and requested we keep them updated in the interim, no matter how late.

After the neuro guy was done, the ER nurses told Grant he was being transferred to the Sunset Kaiser. I was so confused by this point, and also so hungry, that I wanted to know if they’d let me pull up to the ER door so Grant wouldn’t have to walk back to the parking lot. No, Val, they’re transporting him by ambulance (duh). I wanted to ride with him, but I also didn’t want to leave the car behind in case we needed something, so I ended up following them on the freeway. The guy drove 55 the whole way – I’m sure the people behind us were thrilled! I could see the paramedics talking to Grant in the back of the ambulance. Later I learned this is when Grant learned there was a mass on the CT scan and that’s why he was being admitted.

When we got to Sunset, I figured it was going to take a bit before they got Grant settled; my phone was dying and my stomach was grumbling so I went to the Rite Aid on the corner of Hollywood and Vermont. I am never going to that Rite Aid again because I don’t want those memories. I bought the cheapest phone charger I could find and bag of Chex Mix, then I went to the hospital. Kim texted she was on her way and asked if we needed anything, but I wasn’t sure what to say. I found Grant in the ICU on the 6th floor just by the elevator. He was talking and laughing with the nurse. At this point he’d gotten most of his words back and was able to tell me what the paramedic told him. Even though I know he was worried about what they’d found on the scan, he was also feeling better because he was able to communicate again. He asked me to call Alicia and let her know what was happening – it was 11pm by then and I had to leave a voicemail. That’s probably the worst voicemail I’ve ever left a person. One last picture, this one of the first evening we went out after his surgery, wearing a hat Carrie knitted for him.

The week that followed was insanity – but I’m going to stop here for now. I hope this isn’t too much information; I know we told some of this story to different people in fits and starts, and I’m happy to be able to share it fully. He didn’t really want people to know much of what happened when it was happening, but he was so brave it’s almost not fair to NOT share it. He did so incredibly well; his will to keep going stayed strong despite all the challenges, and it remains inspirational to me. A better role model could not exist for this horrid disease. Thank you for reading.

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yeonchi · 3 years

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2021 Mid-Year Report

A lot of things can change in a year, but even more things can change in six months than you think. This is going to be a special post styled like my end-of-year reviews that focuses on the events of the past six months. I don’t know if I’ll be doing this again next year because I felt like making this post; in fact, I don’t know when I’ll stop posting my end-of-year reviews either.

Looking back at Sea Princesses

This time last year, I was in the midst of the second coronavirus lockdown in Melbourne, unemployed on double benefits without needing to look for work. At the same time, I was working on translating and reviewing the Princesas do Mar books, which I had brought from Amazon the month before. My original intention was to buy the books once I had saved up enough money from putting aside part of my paycheck, but looking back, I knew I made a better decision buying the books when I did.

At the same time, Fabio Yabu had also released the main series books as ebooks on Amazon Kindle and would begin releasing translated versions of the first four literacy series books on there as well. A year on, the last two literacy series books have still not been published as yet, though Ubook would publish them as audiobooks in Brazil (with the exception of Turtles in Danger for some reason). In our communications, Yabu had expressed interest in publishing translated versions of the main series books (based on my translations), but the last time we spoke in May, he stated that he had a lot going on, so that has been put on hold for the time being.

From time to time, I go on the wiki and make edits wherever I feel like. This isn’t something that I really needed to express, but I wanted to do so because I am planning on putting the translated episode names on their respective pages eventually. That information was originally posted on the International Entertainment Project Wiki before they planned to move the episode lists to Miraheze but never ended up doing so. Though the episode lists with the translated episode names have been taken down from the IEP Wiki, I have managed to save them and I will put them up on the Sea Princesses Wiki gradually and eventually. Keep in note that the only languages I have all the translated titles for are Brazilian Portuguese, Castilian Spanish and German; sources for other languages are always appreciated.

I’ve been thinking about this question time and time again over the years, but I’ve never brought myself to bring it up on Tumblr until now - Would I like to see a reboot, revival or continuation of Sea Princesses? My answer is both yes and no. I say yes because there is so much unexplored potential and unanswered questions in both the books and animated series with things like the Barracuda Kingdom saga, Marcello and Marcela, more interactions with other characters, more focus on other characters and so forth. However, I also say no because usual reboot criticism aside (character designs are shit, story is shit etc), I fear that the character designs of the Sea Princesses may not sit right with certain people and that they may be misconstrued as jailbait or something like that. While it would be nice to see something new in regards to Sea Princesses someday, that all depends on whether Fabio Yabu is interested in revisiting it like he did the Combo Rangers nearly a decade ago. And besides, if Yabu isn’t interested, then who needs him when I’ve made so much Sea Princesses content over the past few years, including my takes on the continuation of the series in Kisekae Insights? Which brings us to our next topic...

Kisekae Insights and my transition into adult life

In case you haven’t heard, I started at a new job at the end of May and it’s been quite full-on. Amidst all the distractions around me and my commitment to finish up my personal project by the end of this year, I don’t know if I’m going to be able to make two instalments of Kisekae Insights per month as I promised in #21, but as I made clear from the very start, there is no set schedule for the series, so this isn’t necessarily the end of the second run. I decided to just take the rest of my personal project at my own pace and I will possibly do likewise with Kisekae Insights.

Coronavirus and vaccines

At the start of June, Melbourne went into a week-long circuit breaker lockdown that later became two weeks long. This was our fourth lockdown after a short third lockdown in February that lasted five days. And it just so happened that I had to start working from home because of it. It’s not that bad, I’m currently doing a mix of WFH and onsite working so I don’t have to wake up at 6 AM (play on my phone and wake up at like 6:30) and take two hours of public transport just to get to work five days a week.

Numerous variants of the coronavirus have been discovered in the past year. We have variants originating in the UK (Alpha/B.1.1.7), South Africa (Beta/B.1.351), Brazil (Gamma/P.1) and India (Delta/B.1.617.2) among others. The Indian (Delta) variant in particular has been the reason for the recent lockdowns in Australia.

In regards to the naming of the coronavirus and its variants, it’s absolutely funny how their timing came about. When the original coronavirus started in Wuhan, China and was declared to the WHO on 31 December 2019, the WHO named the resulting disease COVID-19 on 11 February 2020, keeping in mind that Asian crybabies were crying about “China Virus”, “Wuhan Virus” or “Kung Flu” back then and are probably still crying about it now. At the start of June, the WHO announced that they would use Greek letters to refer to the variants when the media have used “UK variant”, “Indian variant” etc for months, which is longer than it took mainstream media and society to adopt the name COVID-19. Though their motivation to do this is to prevent stigmatisation like with the original coronavirus, I have heard nothing about British, South African, Brazilian or even Indian people being discriminated over the variants. It’s almost like people have more problems with “China Virus” than “UK variant”, “Indian variant” etc because they somehow have a need to please China and make people realise that all Asians aren’t the same. On top of that, obscuring the variants will eventually lead to people being confused over their origins when more of them inevitably emerge.

Recently, investigations into the origin of the coronavirus have been ongoing, much to China’s ongoing outrage and condemnation. When the coronavirus started, there was a theory that it somehow leaked from a lab in Wuhan; back then, people were laughed for believing it (because Trump was the one who was talking about it), but now, the mainstream media is going with that story while covering the investigations (because Biden’s the one who is talking about it now). It’s almost like a big “I told you so” from the people who knew better.

I’ve said this in my Red Pill Year post and I’ll say it again; all this fuss over naming the coronavirus and its variants to prevent stigmatisation is just an act of political correctness for China’s sake. While I have started to warm to the term COVID-19 (in a humourous and ironic sense), I still stand by my current positions so far; while I don’t entirely agree with “China virus”, I still refer to it as the “Wuhan coronavirus” because it started in Wuhan until proven otherwise beyond all reasonable doubt, whether it leaked from the lab or whatever. I’ll admit, I wouldn’t have much of a problem with this if the virus didn’t start in China. I’m a person who doesn’t really mind or care about political correctness if it’s just a little bit here and there, but given the events of the past decade, I draw the line when it comes to China.

Let’s talk about vaccines now. Vaccines have been a big topic over the past six months - in Hong Kong, Sinovac Biotech’s CoronaVac vaccine has become a meme in the pro-democracy population because to May, there were 24 deaths recorded as a result of side effects compared to the alternate BioNTech vaccine with 6 deaths. Granted, the deaths were in people aged 50 and over (possibly with underlying health conditions), but it has given people a reason to hold off or even refrain from getting the vaccine. On a side note, the “you’re going to Brazil” meme has never felt realer because CoronaVac is one of the vaccines being offered in Brazil along with Argentina, Colombia and Peru. My thoughts and prayers go to them at this point in time.

Now, I am by no means an anti-vaxxer, but I stand by the belief that coronavirus vaccines should be voluntary and not mandatory (I wish I could say the same for other vaccines, but I’d be perpetuating a double standard because adults are in control of our lives before we reach the age of majority). There are some countries and places that are providing incentives to people who get vaccinated, with quite a few of them being offered in the form of prize draws. In all honesty, given the nature of these vaccines, I don’t see the point of prize draws as incentives because there is no other benefit for those who don’t win except for protection against coronavirus, its associated symptoms, or even a release from our agonising and pitiful existences.

My main fear is that vaccine stigmatisation and discrimination might become mainstream with the existence of things like vaccine passports, where people who haven’t taken the vaccine are disallowed from accessing basic services. I can live with wearing masks indoors and on public transport and without leaving the country or even the state, but if the slippery slope gets to a point where people aren’t allowed to shop at supermarkets, eat at restaurants, take public transport or even hold a job without getting vaccinated, that’s the point where I start to become an anti-vaxxer.

There are some industries where getting vaccinated is not only highly recommended, but essential, such as health and aged care. I (luckily) don’t work in those industries so my opinion probably won’t matter, but if you work around vulnerable people regularly, then you as an individual should be responsible for taking the necessary precautions to prevent coronavirus infections and deaths.

So here’s my personal stance on this whole vaccination debacle; I will personally not be getting vaccinated for the foreseeable future, but I am not against people getting vaccinated if they so choose. This is not only because of the potential side effects or even my fear of needles (anyone who points this out to me is missing the point because my reasoning would be the same regardless of it), but because of the potential for the stigmatisation and discrimination of people who choose not to get vaccinated, the erosion of human rights for said people and most of all, the way that China has been involved in all of this; the vaccines were made to combat a virus that originated in China and I am particularly wary of some things coming from China, whether the vaccine is Chinese-made or otherwise.

Hong Kong pessimism

Things in Hong Kong have gotten worse over the past six months and they’re only about to get worser, but in spite of this, I believe that it will be all for the greater good.

Of significance, Apple Daily published their last issue on Thursday 24 June, taking down their website, social media and YouTube accounts on the same day. I used to make shitposts on a separate Facebook page by sharing their posts with satirical captions, sometimes with slurs (particularly the n-word on articles relating to mainland China) until some bitch I was having a feud with kept reporting my posts and got my page unpublished (he would have nearly taken my account with it if I hadn’t called him out and told him to kill himself, at which point we agreed to end the feud). Now that the Apple Daily Facebook page is gone, a lot of the shitposts on my personal page have gone as well; if I hadn’t deleted my separate page following the feud, chances are that I would be making plans to delete it by now because posts from that page made up a majority of my shitposts.

Since its founding in 1995, Apple Daily has been part of the mainstream media in Hong Kong, but due to its pro-democracy (and pro-Hong Kong) stance, it has been pushed to the fringe while other mainstream media outlets (like TVB) expressed pro-government/pro-police/pro-Beijing stances. While other pro-democracy news pages have popped up, there is a chance that the government may crack down on them following the enactment of the National Security Law one year ago; in short, Apple Daily was just in their way and the government will come for them eventually.

RTHK isn’t faring any better; while they are still running as a public radio and television service, they’ve been reined in by the government after their coverage of the 21 July 2019 attacks in Yuen Long. You know, the one where KKK members (in white clothes) lynched black(-clothed) people publicly in a train station and two police were seen walking away as emergency calls were being rejected? Earlier this year, some of RTHK’s programs were removed from their YouTube channel, claiming that their policy was to make content available for one year only, which is obviously not an excuse to fix their apparent pro-democracy bias.

Just last week on 25 June, there was a government reshuffling that led to a former police officer becoming chief secretary, the current police chief being the secretary for security and the deputy police commissioner becoming the chief commissioner. This just reaffirms my belief that all cops are bastards and that from 1 July, my bios on Facebook and Tumblr will be changing to highlight this and the plight of Hongkongers under these turbulent times. I’ve been wary of the Hong Kong police since their actions in the 2014 Occupy Central protests, but I officially became an ACABer sometime in 2020.

Here’s the thing. The government has outright ignored or rejected our requests for change over the years, so pro-democracy supporters are calling for a revolution, which the Chinese government somehow sees as advocating for independence, so the supporters have no hope of achieving their demands unless Hong Kong becomes independent from China, but the Chinese government is obviously not going to allow it, so they naturally turn to the international community for help. While sanctions did have an effect on the officials looming over Hongkongers, we are at an impasse right now because the next eventual step would be war, but no country wants to be responsible for firing the first shot, so the international community resorts to diplomacy while the Chinese government turns to condemning international interference in their internal affairs time and time again.

If, someday, the revolution were somehow successful and Hong Kong were to be liberated the way the protesters wanted, you know the first thing I would like to see? A fucking holocaust. I’d like to see a fucking holocaust of all the government officials who caused us suffering, the police officers who were “just following orders” and all the braindead boomers, Mainland Chinese n-words and other n-word lovers who have nothing but hatred for real Hongkongers. But hey, we all know that’s not going to happen because anyone who advocates for it is no worse than Hitler. Oh wait, that means I’m worse than Hitler because I said all that. Well, I guess that’s what I get for being pissed off at everything that’s happened and venting about it on the internet lol.

After Apple Daily’s shutdown, I have essentially doubled down on all of my beliefs. I have no sympathy for anyone who won’t stand with Hongkongers, and by that I mean anyone who actively stands against Hongkongers or turns traitor by questioning our motives and standing against them (I don’t really have an opinion on anyone who decides to stay silent because I don’t know what their true motivations would be). In short, anyone who doesn’t support Hongkongers is an n-word or n-word lover.

I’m really sorry for sounding toxic or harsh in anything I said about Hong Kong in the past couple of years. I only say these things because I really fucking love Hong Kong and I only hope that I won’t have to fear being confronted by the police or saying anything wrong the next time I visit Hong Kong with my family. Until things get really better, I’ve decided that Hong Kong is off-limits for me, but for now, let the government keep accelerating and laam chauing Hong Kong by themselves. It shows just how scared of us they are when they blame us for its eventual destruction, because in the end, it’s for the greater good.

UPDATE - 3 July 2021: I heard about the guy who stabbed a police officer then killed himself on 1 July. To be honest, I don’t feel sorry for the cop nor do I condemn what the guy did, particularly now that I’m fully into ACAB. People should be thinking about what motivated the guy to martyr himself in a lone wolf attack, namely the actions of the government over the past 24 years and the police over the last 7 years. Yet another reminder that all cops are bastards.

The US and Palestine

I have to say, Joe Biden has subverted my expectations when it came to Hong Kong and China. A lot of us feared that his administration would undo the hard work Trump’s administration did, but at the very least, they are still wary of the current situation and things have stayed pretty much the same.

As for Palestine, I would like to state that I stand with the oppressed peoples of the world and that goes for the Palestinians (and on a side note, Myanmar) as well. Jewish people have become a meme with their stereotypes and while I am not antisemitic, I apply the ACAB logic to them because it’s the system (or Jewish beliefs and Israeli governance) that is the problem here (haha AJAB lol). Ironically, it’s like Eric Cartman’s Mel Gibson fan club in real life.

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Anyway, I think I’ve said enough. Despite all the harsh things I’ve said, I only hope that the world will become a better place one day, but until then, I wish you peace in these turbulent times.

沿途在　修理著熄了的曙光祝你在亂流下平安

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lucelockwood · 7 years

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They hardly ever fight.

Disagreements they have in spades, ranging from the playful to the exasperated to the irritated. But actual fights? For Lucy and Lockwood, those are few and far between, and usually only about one thing: each other’s safety.

The quickest way Lockwood’s found to make Lucy truly angry is to imply—or worse, actually act on the assumption—that her life is worth more than his. It doesn’t matter if the act of risking his own life saves hers. It doesn’t matter that they both always make it out alive. One of Lucy’s deepest rooted fears is someday being responsible for his death, and when he is forced to make her face that fear he knows they’re in for a fight.

After a case gone wrong and an ambush that had required some drastic measures, Lockwood is mentally preparing himself for another confrontation. Emotions are already running high from the stress of the evening, and they’ve been patched up and interviewed by DEPRAC for most of the night, so exhaustion is also a factor.

And then there’s the fact that Lucy’s been giving him the silent treatment ever since they made it out. The cold shoulder is always icier coming from her, he’s found.

Even George can feel the tension building; they’re no sooner home than he’s disappeared into his room without so much as a ‘good night.’ Lockwood had more or less expected this to happen; when they’d first told George about their relationship, one of his only stipulations—along with requesting that all fooling around happen out of his sight—had been that they leave him out of any drama.

Alone in the front hall, Lockwood and Lucy shed their coats, scarves, and gloves in silence, moving automatically in the near darkness. He’s gearing himself up to say something—it’s far too early in the morning but he’d rather have it out now than take the knot of tension in his stomach with him to bed and not get any sleep for worrying about her—when Lucy surprises him with one of her fiercest embraces.

“I. Hate. Tonight.”

The words are muffled in his shirt, but there’s no hiding the way her voice is shaking. Lockwood’s arms wrap around her instinctually, even as his brain struggles to catch up. “You’re not still angry?”

“Oh, believe me, I’m plenty angry,” Lucy says without missing a beat. “Livid, actually. It’s just . . .” she hesitates, taking one deep, shuddering breath. “It’s just that as angry as I am, I’m so much happier that you’re alive.” The rushed, unsteady words tug at him; Lockwood finds himself matching her embrace for strength.

“We’re alive,” he breathes, and the words bring with them a surge of relief that has evaded him all night.

Lucy’s nodding. “We’re alive,” she repeats.

That’s enough, for now. Lockwood isn’t sure how long they stand there in the darkness, seeking comfort and relief from each other. He’s never quite ready to let her go, and Lucy’s grip on him never lessens, so he simply holds on.

At least until he realizes that he’s not the only one feeling the winter chill seeping in through the front windows. Lucy grumbles a protest when he tries to pull away from her, her fingers fisting into his shirt tight enough to leave wrinkles.

“You’re freezing, Luce,” Lockwood reminds her gently, “and it’s late—”

“I don’t care, I’m not done reassuring myself that you’re not dead.”

“You’re welcome to take as long as you need,” Lockwood says, smiling into her hair. “I’m merely suggesting we take this somewhere warm enough that you won’t get sick.”

“I don’t get sick, Lockwood.”

“Which is what you said last year right before you came down with the flu.” When she still doesn’t budge, Lockwood kisses her temple. “Come on, Lucy, come with me.”

Lucy begrudgingly loosens her hold on him, though she doesn’t move away. Instead she takes the hand he offers her, staying as close as the narrow hallway permits as he leads her up the stairs.

Their usual haunt is the library, but the large room can get too drafty for comfort in the winter, so they spend time in his room instead, sitting in front of the old fireplace that he lights when it’s especially cold out. Tonight it has the added bonus of being a welcome distraction: they fall into routine as he works to the light the fire and she hunts down his mother’s old afghan. It’s only a matter of moments before they’re cuddled together on the sofa, the fire burning bright and the afghan draped over them.

“I thought I was in for it,” Lockwood confesses as Lucy adjusts the blanket.

“Yeah, well, you would have been,” she says matter-of-factly, shooting him a very no-nonsense look that he can’t help but grin cheekily at. “Right up until the shock wore off and I realized just how lucky we were tonight.”

For all his conviction that he’d acted exactly as he should have, he can’t help but feel a little guilty at that. “I am sorry for scaring you,” he says, and he doesn’t even have to try to sound earnest. He means the words from the darkest corner of his heart.

“I’d rather have you reckless and alive than not at all.” She sighs deeply, though it’s hard for him to tell if it’s out of resignation or contentment. “Though I can’t help thinking that the alive part would be much easier to maintain if you weren’t so set on being reckless.”

“I’m only as reckless as I have to be to keep up with you,” Lockwood points out. The mood between them sobers slightly. “I had no other choice tonight. You know . . . you know I can’t just let you die.”

Lucy shifts around so she can press a soft kiss to his cheek. “I know,” she says quietly. Then, because she’s Lucy and not at all content with letting something go, she smirks up at him. “Anyway, there’s no point in telling you not to risk yourself for me because you’re going to do it anyway.”

“Sounds familiar,” Lockwood says wryly, earning himself another look from his stubborn, wonderful girlfriend.

“That’s exactly my point: we’re not going to ever find a solution that fits both of us. We’re going to keep bull-headedly doing whatever it takes to keep each other alive, regardless of the cost.” Lucy’s snuggling into him again; Lockwood can hear the weariness in her voice. “And that means more nights like this, whether we like it or not.”

“I see the problem,” Lockwood murmurs, adjusting his hold on her so that he can run one hand through her hair.

“So what do we do about it?”

“We could get married.”

The words leave his mouth entirely without forethought or permission. They ring in the silence, drawing both his and Lucy’s complete attention. Suddenly the air around them is thick and still, and Lucy is rigid in his arms. There’s a moment of stillness, and then she is pushing away from him, her eyes seeking his with an intensity that makes the space between them crackle with energy.

“What?”

“We could get married,” he says again, testing out the words, watching for their impact on him, as well as on Lucy. As it turns out, they feel just as good the second time as they had the first. There’s an overwhelming sense of rightness to the idea, so much so that he’s not quite sure how he hasn’t give it more thought.

Lucy is white, and her eyes are wide, but there’s the barest hint of a smile growing on her face. “That’s your solution?” she demands after a moment of spluttering.

He doesn’t break her gaze once as he sits up, taking both of her hands in his. This is not at all how he’d imagined having this conversation with her, but he’s committed now. “It makes sense, doesn’t it?” he asks at last.

“Makes sense?” Lucy protests, and there’s a definite shrill quality to her voice now. “You want to get married because it’s the logical thing to do?”

“I want to get married because I love you, Lucy Carlyle. I don’t want to be part of any future where we aren’t together.”

“Neither do I, but . . .” The protest dies on Lucy’s lips as her cheeks flood with color. “Are you . . . are you being serious right now?”

Lockwood kisses her knuckles. “If you have to ask that, then I haven’t done nearly as good a job at showing you how much I love you as I should have.” Lucy doesn’t answer, other than turning a deeper shade of red. “Nothing much would actually have to change. I mean some things could, if you wanted, but the essentials are all in place already. Honestly, Luce, I don’t know what we’ve even waited this long for.”

“Our twenties, maybe?” But she’s smiling full force now, and he can’t help but match it.

“Details, Luce.”

“No, Anthony, not details! Very important factors that need to be considered!”

“Factors, I’ll grant you. Important? Maybe, but only inasmuch as it’s important to you.”

“It might be!” Lucy huffs, thought effect is completely ruined by the brilliance of her smile.

“Then we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. We don’t have to get married tomorrow, Luce. I’m just looking for an answer right now.”

She’s regaining her composure quickly, though the enchanting flush in her cheeks endures. “I’m still not sure how getting married solves the problem of us constantly trying to die for each other,” she says at last.

“Well, that’s just it, there isn’t a solution for that, is there? We’re both too stubborn by half. But we’re already completely committed to each other. You said it yourself, we’re always going to save each other, no matter what it takes.” There’s a moment when he’s overwhelmed, not by the enormity of what he’s doing, but by the enormity of how much he feels. “I’m ready to die for you, you know that, but I would give everything I have for the chance to live for you.”

It’s a moment before Lucy can speak. She looks up at him through eyes that are suddenly wet, all traces of her prior incredulousness gone. “Anthony . . .” His name on her lips, at this precise moment proves to be too much.

“Marry me, Lucy,” he pleads, the words barely more than a whisper.

Rather than answer, Lucy Carlyle kisses him.

After the third kiss—fourth? Tenth? Who’s counting, anyway?—Lockwood pulls away from her abruptly. “Really, Lucy, I’m waiting for an answer here,” he teases, for which he is rewarded with a roll of her eyes, followed by the most beautiful smile he’s ever seen.

“Yes, you idiot. I’ll marry you.”

#inktober ficlet #day 21 #WHEN YOU'VE BEEN WRITING THE THING FOR FAR TOO LONG #honestly I'm not happy with the ending at all #but I need to move on #and I've got three more chances to get it right lol #you would not believe how much of the past week has been me banging my head against the wall #my writing #writing practice #locklyle #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #<33333 babies just be happy

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rilenerocks · 4 years

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Hi Michael. It’s that time of year again. That time you always hated when I was so, so very hot and sweaty and thus, always had the air conditioning turned down, the overhead fan turned to high and the small floor fan churning away all night long. Like living in a wind tunnel, you’d say. I’m sure you wouldn’t be the least bit surprised to learn that nothing’s changed. I climb into our bed, each night, still on my side, yours untouched, with the dull roar of all my cooling machines as my companions. The thin sheet quivers in the breeze. You’d hate it. I’m physically comfortable and I lie there, thinking. Look at this headline from an article I read this evening.

Scientists Have ‘Woken Up’ Microbes Trapped Under The Seafloor For 100 Million Years

I mean, really? While I was trying to wrap my mind around the impossibility of those numbers and the subsequent life options they revealed, I suddenly hoped that meant we had a chance of reuniting somewhere in this mystifying universe. Certainly our collective and relatively young microbes have just as good a chance at survival as those ancient ones. I’m positive that your microbes are all over our house, our garden and in the few personal items of yours which I’ve stashed away. There might be a few hairs in your brush. I wouldn’t care which version of us we’d be, young or old. Ish.

So then I was thinking about all the tiny details of life I’d normally tell you every day when you were still here in the flesh. I mean, I like your constant cosmic presence, but I usually turn to that with just the most important stuff. I’ve been dying to share with you all these strange little nothing thoughts that cross my mind. Mostly, no one has ever been able to put up with the endless stream of seemingly random, disconnected thoughts that pour out of me. My sister, Cheryl is probably the next best listener after you. As my younger sibling, she was well trained in the absorption of my peculiar brain workings. I’m lucky she’s still here. But there’s just nothing like you for that bottomless reservoir of acceptance which you provided for me. Isn’t it ironic that we both know you’d be appalled by me releasing all this private information into the faceless universe? I mean, I know some people who read my blog but mostly, they’re strangers. Honestly, except for a few private spaces in myself that defy language, most of the rest is just irrelevant in the long run. What impact do our little quirky selves have? I know you’d disagree but I need to survive now, in my own way. So here are a few random thoughts that beset me as I lie in our bedroom, my favorite space, while my mind wanders in the wee hours after I’m done reading, wishing I could talk to you above the whir of the fan blades spinning around me.

You’re the only person who knew that while I was listening to WLS radio during my pubescent and teen years in Chicago, I wasn’t just a rock and roll/rhythm and blues kid. I also liked gospel, jazz and classical music. I still remember that when you were working at the Record Service, you kept track of my favorites and made sure I always those albums in my stash. And then, you updated them to CD’s so I didn’t have to wear out my vinyl. I’m still listening to lots of different genres every day. I don’t think I could’ve gotten through this bizarre pandemic time without it.

Here’s another weird thing I’ve noticed lately. I don’t watch much television during the day. I turn it on for a few minutes when I get up in the morning, mostly a defensive move to make sure nothing impossibly earth-shattering happened overnight. That’s how things are right now – every day seems to bring a story that’s incomprehensible. Today the story was that after the worst economic quarter ever reported since they started measuring these things, Trump suggested that perhaps we shouldn’t hold an election this fall. This guy will sling any idea that he thinks will get him a second term. As an historian, you just wouldn’t believe how this country has devolved since you’ve been gone. Anyway. When evening rolls around, I’m tired from being outside most of the day. After dinner, I watch the news and then scroll through the tv guide, looking for anything that might distract me, amuse me or otherwise edify me in some way. Lately, I’ve realized that virtually every day, The Godfather, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off or Gladiator is playing. Often they’re on at the same time, while other times, they’re staggered. It’s so peculiar. Usually I watch bits of all of them. By the end of the week I’ve seen them in their entirety, albeit out of order. I’ll also pause for Sense and Sensibility, The Princess Bride, Pride and Prejudice or any Errol Flynn movie. Makes me laugh. If you were here, you’d be doing the same thing with The American President, To Have and to Have Not, You’ve Got Mail or The Maltese Falcon. Also Goodfellas, A Bronx Tale, or Stand by Me. I’m working my way through a decent number of tv series that I missed when we were too busy to watch them. But recently, I’m needing revolution. I’ve got “Z” and Battle of Algiers on my DVR. I probably don’t need to get more cranked up than I am these days, but I guess that’s too bad. Watching them anyway. I wonder how any new shows will be made for the fall? Better not go down that rabbit hole. They’re probably not going to happen.

I want you to know that in your honor, I have loyally kept up with a smaller version of your food garden. Not just the perennial herbs that still marvelously appear and make me feel that it’s you who’s emerging through our rich dirt. That’s kind of absurd because your ashes are sitting in a beautiful box in the house waiting to some day being mingled with mine. Then we can be in the garden together. That aside, I’ve also been diligently planting and nurturing the annual herbs and vegetables, although at the moment, I’m losing the vegetable battle with the squirrels and rabbits. I’ve managed to get about two dozen cherry tomatoes off the vines while I try to ignore the smushed ones on the ground with one bite mark taken before abandonment. All the low-hanging large tomatoes have been filched along with the green peppers. I’m holding out hope for ones that are a little higher on the vines.

I’m really missing your cooking, though. Yesterday, I started ferreting around your recipe folders and dug out the one for pesto which, by the way, wasn’t labeled. I’m going to make it. I don’t have as much basil as you would plant so I don’t expect to be spooning the mixture into ice cube trays that we could pop out of the freezer for pastas and pizzas. But I’m going to get it done. You really spoiled me. The good news is that I knew it and let you know. So there’s that.

Meanwhile, I’m being really mindful about enjoying every bloom in my flower world. I wait impatiently to make sure that my perennials return and get so happy when they show up. Then I try not to get sad because soon they’ll be gone. That’s something I have to work on – if I’ve learned anything, I know I need to stay in the present. So I’m out there a lot, with the butterflies and the birds, chasing them around with my phone to get good photos that I hope will be comforting in what I expect will be a socially distanced winter.

Regarding the birds. So far, since spring, there’ve been 50 species in the yard. I don’t know if you’d recall that I started drawing them and filing them in a binder called The Yardbirds. I know you’d get the music reference. Anyway, my renderings are improving. If I practice, I’ll get better. Here are a couple of my recent ones.

I’m really happy that I’ve created a great bird habitat in the yard. I’m learning a lot about their behavior. I love watching the hummingbirds and the house wrens. Tiny, but mighty. I’ve grown fond of catbirds which are showing up regularly at the feeders. They’re perky and curious and pretty brave.

I’ve done something pretty dumb, as getting attached to wild animals doesn’t bode well for a happy emotional outcome. But I’m very fond of the cardinal pair that lives here year-round. After a rousing rescue of one of their fledglings last week, I felt so familial with them that I decided to name the strikingly beautiful female who comes for here daily for a dip in the birdbath. I’m calling her Pumpkin. Now, how absurd is that? I like her boyfriend too.

Another thing I did after a good deal of thought was sell your beloved bike. That was hard for me. I know it was just a thing but you loved it so much. I heard your voice in my head saying, “don’t be ridiculous – it’s just sitting there being wasted. Get yourself some extra cash.” So I did. But I took photos first. All these things I have to do. When I lie in bed in the night, I think about how much easier it is to share the loads of life. I miss that a lot although I’m glad I have what it takes to manage on my own. I think back to my mom after my dad died. By the time she was my age, she’d been dependent on me for almost 5 years. Makes me shudder.

How could I not tell you this most important thing? Our daughter, who went from working remotely to having to appear in person in a closed courtroom, found out the other day that a court clerk had tested positive for Covid19. She was asked to leave her office, get tested and do another 14 day quarantine. Then the judge in charge pf hearing her cases tested positive as well. Ugh. That meant that all the rest of our little family bubble had to be tested too. So far, she and our son got negative results. Our son-in-law, both grandsons and I await our results. I hope we’re all negative and can resume our little intimate enclave. The months ahead look daunting to me. The virus is traversing the country at will with no definitive treatments or vaccines. I dread flu season adding to the complexity of everything. Feels positively medieval.

In other news, I got an email from the park district informing us that the indoor pool was reopening immediately. The list of precautions and requirements is very long and detailed. I read it carefully while keenly aware of my longing to get back to swimming. In the end, I’ve decided against it. I just don’t think being in an indoor facility shared with high school students can be safe enough for someone like me, a member of what I call the “death group.” So I’ll just have to know that a block and a half from our house, people will be paddling away while I won’t. This adult decision-making of risk vs. reward is overrated.

In other news, I actually wish I was more like my mom in her widowhood. She used to talk a lot about how all she wished she could do was hold my dad’s hand one more time. Lucky her. I remain deeply interested in resuming our intimate life for another 30 years or so. I hope if this reaches you, you’ll be glad to know that some of our best things are strong enough to survive death.

So that’s all for tonight. By the way, I thought you should know that I just restlessly flipped on the television. There is Gladiator in the midst of the re-creation of the battle of Carthage. Round and round it goes, my dearest boy. Until next time.

A Message from the Wind Tunnel Hi Michael. It’s that time of year again. That time you always hated when I was so, so very hot and sweaty and thus, always had the air conditioning turned down, the overhead fan turned to high and the small floor fan churning away all night long.

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soap-brain · 7 years

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Haha I'll give you a happy prompt ( there's never enough spirk in this world ) : Spock realizes his feelings for Jim and just completely FREAKS OUT ( in a "this isn't logical this human spends 99% of his time finding new ways of annoying me SURAK HELP ME" way ). So he starts avoiding Jim ( like, puts himself on beta shift, pratically runs everytime they're in the same room because my poor boy is traumatized) and oc, Jim is NOT happy about Spock's behavior. I guess this could be a "wtf" prompt XD

... but i finally finished it. god, i’ve been studying so much the past few days, and then i accidentally wrote You Always Meet Twice and ... yeah, i know.

anyways. finally!!

since @shamanship requested “TOS Spirk get together”, I filled both prompts in one.

Under the cut: EmotionsShip: TOS SpirkRating: GenWordcount: 1529

Pesky Human Emotions

The first thing Spock notices about his new superior officer is that he has a pleasant voice.

Over the years he notices many things - James Kirk has kind eyes, gentle hands, an intriguing sense of humor, he’s intelligent, witty, communicates well, has a variety of interests.

Spock gets hurt on an away mission - not badly, and he is fully capable of suppressing the pain until they are back on the Enterprise. Captain Kirk, however, is extremely worried and demands Spock to beam up straight away.

“I didn’t want to see you in pain, Spock,” he says as an explanation, with a smile Spock has noted Kirk seems to frequently employ around him.

The first time Spock fails to complete an assignment on time he is, for lack of a better word, ashamed. Idly he wonders whether another Vulcan, a full-blooded one, would not have failed. He also wonders what Captain Kirk’s reaction will be. Certainly there will be a punishment of sorts; after all, Spock’s work is of high importance for the Enterprise.

“God, Spock, are you okay?” is what Kirk says when he answers to Spock’s call. “Look, for all you say you didn’t catch that weird strain of the flu - I want you to report to medbay and have Dr McCoy check you over. Your work can wait. Your health is more important for the Enterprise - for me - than a report.”

Incidents like such repeat themselves. Kirk also frequently invites Spock to his quarters for dinner. He is a good conversationalist and it is pleasant to talk with him. He also shows himself interested in Vulcan culture, asking intelligent questions but not pressing.

They take up chess eventually and Spock finds himself looking forward to their regular matches. Kirk portrays an exemplarily positive attitude towards Spock, even going so far as to tease him on occasion, which Spock understands is a display of affection.

“I trust you,” Kirk says one day during a very delicate away mission. Spock’s plan, which he had had to start without having explained it to the captain, ends up saving the entire team. It is something Spock could and should be proud of. Instead all he can think about is that Captain Kirk trusts him.

They are sitting chained in a dungeon of a lesser evolved race that caught them during a mission that was supposed to be simple observation. The cave-like structure is cold, even more so since they have had their uniform shirts taken away. Kirk fell asleep eventually, but Spock is too cold and too uncomfortable to do so. Instead, he analyzes their surroundings. After there is nothing more to see, he observes Kirk. It is certainly not news that the Human is physically attractive. He has a great many desirable features - a healthy, golden skin color, shining golden hair, kind brown eyes, broad shoulders, a well-muscled torso, strong hands … a pleasing face, too. He is also a man of good character. Spock can count himself lucky (if he did believe in luck) to serve under a man like him.

“Call me Jim. We’re off-duty.” Jim. It sits easy on his tongue. Of course Spock would never call him that on duty.

Jim laughs easily, and Spock finds he enjoys finding ways of making him laugh.

They huddle for warmth on an icy planet, and Spock finds that Captain Kirk - Jim has a pleasant smell. He is also tactile, but Spock finds he does not mind being touched by him. He is getting rather attached to his captain, to an extent where he begins wondering what Jim is doing when he is not in the room with Spock.

He walks in on Jim just stepping out of the shower one afternoon. It is the first time this happened, even though they have shared a bathroom the entire time Spock is serving on the Enterprise. Jim laughs and tells him not to worry about it. Spock does not worry, he merely … cannot stop thinking about the Human naked.

In fact, he cannot stop thinking about Jim at all, missing a touch moments after Jim took it away, subconsciously standing closer to him, even initiating touches himself. He finds himself drawing chess games out far longer than necessary, often forfeiting winning.

Jim Kirk is prone to ripping his shirt. Spock wishes he were even more careless with his uniform. It is fascinating to watch him work out, as the workout clothes do sit quite well on him.

Spock begins delivering each report on its own, simply so he has an excuse to see Jim more often. It is becoming extremely distracting. Jim need only smile at him, and Spock is infinitely more happy for the rest of the day.

It has to stop.

Spock begins meditating each night as opposed to only once per week, attempting to control himself. The cracks in his façade are becoming unseemly and unprofessional. He almost smiles at Jim, actively attempts to touch his fingers because of the thoroughly enjoyable sensation it produces, even goes so far as to make up scenarios that would somehow involve either of them having to embrace the other.

But meditation seems to make it worse. While at first it rebuilds Spock’s cool exterior, his slightly changed behavior is making Jim pout, which is hardly something he can resist thinking about. It is - cute, for lack of a better word.

It is during one of his communications with his mother that some things begin to make sense.

“You know, Spock, you’ve told me an awful lot about that Jim of yours. When am I going to meet him?”

“‘Meet him’, mother?”

She looks almost affronted. Perhaps an Earth emotion Spock is not too familiar with. “Why, yes of course. I thought a mother had the right to meet her son-in-law.”

“Mother, I am afraid you are misunderstanding. He is not - we are not - romantically involved.”

“But you like him so much. Tell me, Spock, can’t you stop thinking about him? About his eyes, perhaps, his voice, his touch? Does your heart begin beating faster when he’s around? Do you want to stand closer to him, embrace him, perhaps? Do you wish to spend more and more time with him?”

Spock can only stare. “I have not … told you any of these things …”

“And yet I know? Spock, what you are feeling isn’t friendship anymore … it’s love.”

Love. That is unacceptable. And since it only appeared after prolonged exposure to J- to Captain Kirk, it is only logical that it will fade over time if Spock lessens the exposure.

He requests being put on beta shift the next morning. Kirk looks like he is experiencing - an emotion, but he agrees.

Furthermore, there is no point in Spock turning in every report by hand. Submitting them virtually works just as well. And with his new interest in botany it is crucial that Spock spends a great amount of time in the laboratories. There is no time for chess.

Kirk accepts that. He does however come to the botany labs quite often to enquire about the status of Spock’s current project, and Spock does not always have the heart to turn him away. It makes him look … sad. Spock does not like it.

“I know it’s only been a month since we last talked but - Spock, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, mother.”

“Is that so? You look sad. Is everything okay?”

“Affirmative.”

“He turned you down, didn’t he? Oh, darling, I am so sorry.”

“I beg your pardon, mother, but I do not understand.”

“Well, you told him about your feelings, and he doesn’t reciprocate them, does he? Your captain.”

“That must have been a misunderstanding. I do not hold any feelings other than loyalty towards Captain Kirk.”

“Spock. Don’t lie to your mother. Please.”

“Very well. Mother, you must understand that it is improper of me to desire anything other than friendship from my captain. Furthermore, I cannot allow myself the vulnerability of giving in to base instinct. Forgive me, but I am not human. And I have no desire to be.”

“No, of course not. But - Spock, do yourself a favor. Do me a favor. Tell him. If he doesn’t feel the same way, he’ll without doubt let you down gently and you’ll have closure. But if he does feel the same, you’ll forever regret not taking the opportunity. It’s simple. Tell him your feelings towards him are more than platonic. He’ll understand.”

“I - mother, I am unsure whether that is the correct way to go about things.”

“He’s human. Of course it is. Now go. He’s just next door, isn’t he? Go over there and tell him. You were brave enough to be the first Vulcan in Starfleet, you can do this. It’s just a couple words. Trust him, Spock.”

Spock does.

Spock ends the call and stands up, leaving his quarters and requesting entrance at Jim’s.

“Spock!” The Human’s eyes are soft and there’s a smile on his lips. “Come in! What can I do for you?”

Spock takes a deep breath.

i hope this was more or less what you were looking for :p

sorrynotsorry for the cliffhanger

Spirk Tag List: @jim-kirk-grab-n-kiss @toosouthernforspace @igottrekked @burnhamofvulcan

Everything Tag List: @bottomkirk @gumballgladiator @sixclawsdragon @logicheartsoul @kagenightray @jimothyandspocko @logicallythyla @needles-and-ink @headcanonsilove @i-am-a-real-human-being @fallenpiestiel @skyeries @alanna342 @shamanship @startrektrash @lesbiantasha

prompts are err... technically still open, i’m just slow af :p but still, please shoot something my way!

#spirk #jim kirk #spock #star trek #star trek tos #fanfic #my writing #dianaatrevor #ask #answered

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dancekickboxcardio · 5 years

Text

Weekend 🎊. I am back. I am tuned to New York Times while I write ✍🏾 my thoughts 💭 down on my iPhone 📱 X. I wonder what fun things 😍 I am going to do today. Yes, I am full of life, energy ⚡️ and excitement 🤩. It is a huge difference from the past few days and I can definitely tell I am better. I don’t need Advil. My nose 👃🏾 has a thick mucosal drainage and that’s ok. My immune system has been fighting whatever it is that compromised my bod. I have to shower 🚿. I haven’t in like days. Wawames just walked in. I have to pack 🧳 for the holiday 🎄 trip 🛣.

I was looking to starting slow on my first day back at the gym 🏃🏼‍♀️ 💪🏾. I am eager to see familiar faces and bid them the Merriest Christmas 🎁 as I take my leave for New Jersey and New York. If we stay in a hotel 🏨 which I have not asked, there is a gym 🏃🏼‍♀️ 💪🏾. Otherwise, I am stuck and can not get my system going in the next 5 days. I did say I have to pack 👗 right. I may not have new outfits with tags 🏷 but I have two unopened scarves 🧣. I have two new earrings 💎. That’s it. It’s ok. My priorities ⚠️ have somewhat shifted to my serious academic work at health club 🤦🏼‍♀️. It’s a personal me time and I work on issues such as coming up with the most inquisitive thoughts 💭 from efficiency 📊📈📉 to psychological underpinnings 🧠. I have made a schedule 🗓 of what I want to do today. Sadly,

I am a no go 🙅🏼‍♀️. My Mom is in early and she gave me the bad news. I have no time to prep and be dropped off 🚘 to work on my fitness 😕. It was a little bummer but I took it optimistically and know there are many things I can get busy ✍🏾🗒 with today. Allowance 💵 week 🎊🙏🏾. That’s my hands like an athlete 🎽 sliding together ready to perform my shopping 🛍 habit 😏. I was going to wear my new Zella’s 👖 today. Let it go 😏. What am I going to do today. Let’s brainstorm 🧐.

(1) Read a book 📚

(2) Twiddle 📲

(3) Shopping 🛍 plan, like what do I want to spend my little “paycheck.” Vie, it’s allowance 💵. Stop 🛑 dreaming like you have to earn what you need. Isn’t that what normal people do? Work for their living. I am like living ✨ and everything handed to me. This is so “frustrating.” I say this because I know my potential and value. I love 💕 where I am and I feel that I am doing important work. However, I entertain like a devil’s advocate what my life could be. It’s not crushing because I know where my heart ❤️ is and I concede. I am already a strong head as we know it. Funny 😆 how my temper is not met with masculine inability to handle what they do not understand with care and love 💕 and affection 🤗. It’s like I am coddled and engage in a communication of negotiation and explanation of what it feels 😦. My gawd, are you lucky 🍀.

(4) Watch TV 📺

(5) Pinterest 📍

(6) Study 📖

(7) Journal 📓

Yeah, it’s true I am the queen 👸🏼 of walking in delicate situations. That is like one of my gifts 🎁 . A great conciliator. It is also my weakness to understand and take so much. It is the worst of situation and I still have that tolerance and patience. What do you do? Be a royal 👑 mess.

You definitely can tell that I am in good health. I am joking 🙃, I am thinking 🤔 of the stuff that I want to do and must do and have that strength to actually do it.

I am still not sure what happened like how I got the strain of bacteria 🦠 or virus. That’s why I vigilantly clean 🧽 my mat and foam roller. I need to kill the microbes. Perhaps, it was already in me. I miscounted as usual when I do not think 💭 it through like I don’t pay attention and give a damn. Quick thoughtless spitfire. I was only sick 🤒 three days. Monday why didn’t I go? I only had 5 hours of sleep 💤 . Perhaps that late night 🌌 and lack of proper amounts of sleep 🛏 pushed the threshold of immune system defenses low. It still doesn’t point the vector. Where did I get it from? I went to the hospital 🏥 twice over the past seven days. I went Thursday to get a blood 🩸 draw and I went Monday to get the rest of my lab 🧪 completed. It was unsuccessful Monday and I only touched the door 🚪, the sign up stuff 🖊 and sat 🪑 on the waiting room. So how? Maybe it was already in your system. Yeah. I emailed📧 my doctor 🥼 and I have to check what she said esp who shall explain the results on my tests. I happily 😃 cooked 👩🏼‍🍳 even if most is perfectly burnt. I watched TV 📺. I was on my phone 📱 doing stuff and slept 🛏. I didn’t get to study 👓. Yes, you did. Right. I was pretty good in answering question raised by professor 👩🏻‍🏫. I am excited 😜 to continue today. I would like to plan next year. I have reminders on how I want to live 2020.

I love 💕 my seafood 🦞 casserole 🥘. I try not to eat 🍴 everyday. Thank God, breaded 🍞 fish 🐟. Yes, I have panko and regular bread 🥖 crumbs on my grocery list for next week 🛒. I shall be out of town.

When I woke up Tuesday I knew something is off. I can barely wake up for being weak. I had no fever 🤒 or headache 🤕 but I had no energy. I feel sick. I had muscleaches. I slept 🛏 and rested because it was imperative. I had chills. I drank tons of Advil 💊. I don’t believe I did anything but being stuck in bed 🛌 which is a surprise because I maybe ill 🤧 like almost every week after flu shot 💉 but I was functional and not totally unable to do a thing. Eating 🍽 was a chore. Yet I had to put nourishment in me. If not, I won’t have fuel ⛽️ to fight off the infection.

I feel like I finished Neruda Tuesday not Wednesday because I wanted to get over the Jerusalem book 📚 and I didn’t until Thursday. Right. I read Tuesday. I cannot tolerate being stuck in bed the entire day. I should change my sheets.

I had no caffeine ☕️ in my system for the past two days Wednesday and that’s ok. I don’t need that supercharge 🔌 because I wasn’t going to power 💥 through my day. I have no strength and energy. There is not way I am going to push the limits of my protective body mechanism. I noticed that I have an appetite. That’s good. But I am eating more than usual like I am craving and my diet was so uncontrolled. I had a sweet 😻 time with Jamesicle 🐈. Sparky is being a sweetheart today. He went up to me, leaned on my back and would like to be carried 😯. Hmmmmm.... love 💗 without having to dispense a treat 🍭. I wished I had finished the book 📚 but I was living life as I usually do. A cat 🐈 is talking. I love 💕 it. I am always distracted. I don’t know 🤷🏼‍♀️ about you but sometimes you want things exactly as you conceived it. I just pulled down my curtains. Lights in 🌞. But I was consciously telling myself to not be perfectionist and exactly how you want it. Life is not going ever to always be your way. But when it does, you see your ends. You adjust. I mean I wasn’t so frustrated that my new gym bags 💼 , the ones I like are all sold out 🏷. My gawd, the Roksanda was the perfect one. My second choice Betsey Johnson was gone the next day. Now what? Well, it wasn’t too hard of a choice if I should get a full price 💲💲💲💲💲💲Lululemon. Be honest with yourself. You only have three hundred dollars 💵 . Would it be less different if you get the carry on on sale? Right. It doesn’t define who I am. In fact it makes me respectable that I am not passing off what my little stipend can only afford. I don’t make these grandiose claims and when I do not have a show for it, I go around town making false claims to placate my juvenile tendencies 🙄. You are adulting. Ugh 😑, I know. Oh, there were $20 bottoms by Zella’s to Gottex so I am cool 😎. Spend $150 what’s supposed to be for coat 🧥 on them. Horrible in a sense. But who tells you precisely how to live your life. Those who are not happy 😃 and problematic or without in theirs.

I definitely was improving Thursday. I was greatly enthused 😃 when I completed ✔️ the Jerusalem book. I haven’t shared my musings 🖊 on passages that I highlighted by camera 📸 on the book. It checked off my 12 books for 12 months to complete the year 📆. I was feeling good and pat myself in the back because I did something good and I actually reached one of my annual goals🥅 , yay 😀 🎉. Oh, I shall put my impression plain. Wait a second.

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It is a very heavy text considering that it wasn’t like a 300 pages literature. It was packed. I follow where my heart 💓 leans, the thread 🧵 which guides it and I stumbled into a perfect transition, Canterbury Tales. I was surprised 😮 to see myself delving into religion and realizing how my upbringing has some influence on how I see it. I wasn’t livid violent at each slights and insults. I was very calm and try to see what’s going on. You need to be less reactive and stand on what is right not on the tides of push buttons. It takes a certain strength to build yourself. It takes another to sustain peace ✌🏾.

I am not hungry 😋. It’s a Friday. I could expend my extra energy in thre treadmills and on the equipment floors . But I am cool 😌. I still have a lot of task 📝 to tackle. I am wearing my Apple Watch ⌚️ and esp yesterday to have like a monitor to tell if my heart beats are irregular. Like right not I am not at all uneasy 😬 and it’s not that my blood pumping organ was functioning erratically and strongly, I had some tightness in my chest. I may not have cellular function on it, but it shall alarm 🚨 when something is seriously 😒 not right and I can call emergency ⛑ medical 🏥 help in a jiffy. I can tell the huge calmed difference and on fit Americano ☕️ too. Shall I shower 🧼 with my new tech. What do I feel like doing? Decisions, decisions, decisions. Make it haphazard 🚧. There is literally like a book on it. Wait, let me pull it up.

I am like already living it. I am not alone 🔦.

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aleatoryalarmalligator · 7 years

Text

Life Story Part 44

In early November there was a Sanborn family reunion down in Southern Idaho. My uncle Bob arrived, Marty, Uncle Steve his wife Sylvia, some cousins, my half uncle Adam. But mostly, my grandma Betty. Really, other than my uncle Bob, nobody in my dad's family took much interest in keeping in touch, but everyone knew and cared about her. I was a bit shocked, because seeing her made me realize just how old she was getting. She had been old when I knew her as a child – when she had lived upstairs and I would go to visit, reluctantly swallowing down her toxic mixture of canned peaches and cottage cheese (her favorite food), holding her hand and pressing against her thick veins under paper thin skin as we sat on the couch and watched Bob Ross together, but now she was beginning to reach a new level of feebleness and at times seemed confused over very basic facts of life. I guess I had taken her for granted in a way, assuming she would always stay the same. She was just as sweet as she had ever been though, and was very happy to see everyone. She was confused as to why my hair was now black. I had to explain to her that dyeing your hair was a thing. My father dominated much of the living room conversation for those several days. And I honestly felt very bored for a large portion of the week. I mostly remember bits and pieces of the visit, and most of those memories are exclusive to my grandma. That, and my Aunt Gayle made this casserole, which seemed as though it would be tasty, and was, but had more hair in it than any food I had ever put in my mouth. Honestly, eventually Allison, David and I were pulling out hairballs, and we had to secretly scoop it into the garbage.

For Thanksgiving, my mother had a very nice set up for us. It was kind of surprising coming from her after all these years. My mother is actually a masterful homemaker, having been a stay at home mom who sewed and cooked and the like for a decade before she started dating my dad. And she had done very similar things for a few years she had been pregnant in the 90's. So my mom could set up a very good Thanksgiving. I ended up having Thanksgiving at her place, but then came back to Kendrick that night and threw it all up. I have horrible luck with having the stomach flu for holidays, and it almost feels like more than a mere coincidence.

Mostly my life felt horrible and empty though. Things weren't good, but they weren't terrible for me either. But I almost found this new kind of emptiness even worse. Certain things never get better for me. There is always a level of discontent and loss, and even when I find ways to get happy, or even jovial and off the wall excited, there is rarely ever a time when the melancholy has ever left. It's like a fog. There have only been a small number of instances when I could shut down enough or feel truly touched enough to surpass that. I sometimes call it the Adults, like a disease. You can't stop wanting things, but if you ever stop to look into your inner self, it's hard to figure out why. If your like me, you will fret anxiously, even in a state of calm, even if you are content, nothing is ever put right. If you get what you want, you will always just want something else, or get distracted by another want. And the repetition of days, weeks, years is all life turns out to be, and there is a feeling of nausea in being alive. You forget more than you will ever know, and the things you do remember never stay pure. So even though 9th grade was tougher on me than 10th, what with the abuse from my father, Jason, Ava ruining things for me, there was always an objective or even a delusion that there was paradise on the other side. Age 15 gave me this strong impression that there was no other side. If I got to the other side, I would only want to return, and so on and so forth. There was never any real satisfaction.

I would spend a lot of these monotonous times at Sarah's place. We would do anything we could to keep ourselves entertained. I often tried to instigate doing something new or over the top. Sarah usually didn't want to do anything, but if the goal wasn't too absurd – like walking ten miles into the woods at night, something I had suggested – just to get a taste for real danger that I was so dearly lacking, she would go along with it eventually. I made up this game where we couldn't let a single car see us. We would rent movies down at the store before it closed. Generally these movies were very boring and dull. I would often get far more frightened of horror movies than Sarah, even dumb ones like Jeepers Creepers. In fact, Jeepers Creepers made it very hard for me to walk alone at night, and I always had this sense that I would be walking alone at night and I would see that vintage vehicle with the horrific horn coming in my direction, so at times, I would literally run from the main road to not be spotted by any vehicle and it almost became a phobia to be seen by people or vehicles at night. I feel like a combination of being in no position to help myself, and being bored out of my wits, I half drove myself crazy.

Sarah and I also played a fair deal of chess. I was always lost. I always worried that it meant that I might in fact be much stupider than Sarah. Or maybe not stupider, but more impulsive. Not that I really felt that it was a contest, but there has always been a part of me that compared myself to others. It's not that I greatly enjoy feeling better than everyone else. It has more to do with the fact that I have never liked feeling ordinary, when I am in fact, believe it or not quite ordinary at times. And drawing was even worse. I've said it before, but sometimes, when Sarah and I were drawing together, I would feel like a lousy artist. Sarah's pictures were beginning to pop out of the page. Her line work and her shadowing were much better than mine. She could draw realistic. She could draw people from above, below, in midair, and so forth. And honestly, I drew and drew but it was always the same picture somehow. I felt very trapped in this cycle, and I don't know how many times I crinkled the paper as I was drawing, upset that I was getting no better despite how many attempts I made. I felt like I was watching Sarah grow wings, and fly away, leaving me earthbound. She didn't even seem to try. It just seemed like her abilities flowed out of her unconsciously. And the more effort I put into the art, the flatter and less inspired my art became.

Around this time, the movie 'Ray' about Ray Charles came out, and there was a distinct memory I have of sitting around this handmade kiln and fire pit that Sarah's mom built outside behind the house, not far from the cliff area. Sarah and I were roasting shishkabobs with chicken and vegetables on them, and we were eating them up. And after that, we went inside and watched Ray, played chess and I went to sleep. I would almost stay that I was at Sarah's home around 1/3 of the time at this point.

I was always looking for Zack. I seemed to sense his presence when he drove into Kendrick, and one lonely dark Friday night that would typically be spent watching a bad movie or me getting upset, I got the sense that Zack was close by. I begged Sarah to walk with me to find him. I didn't want to seem to desperate, but I just somehow knew he was in this very obscure area at the end of town that neither Sarah or I had any business being at. It was hard to explain the feeling, but it might be what the spider feels when a bug gets caught in it's web. It was a rainy night, and it was beginning to get cold again, the wind blowing. Sarah was not up for the weather, but I convinced her to come with me anyway. And I was right. Just as we were about to turn around and walk back, I saw Zack in the distance, entering into a strange empty garage building. He seemed to be fixing a vehicle, though I don't recall any of the details of what for or who's it was. He was all alone in this building, just working. He ended up seeing us, and enthusiastically waving us in. We hadn't seen him in nearly two months, other than maybe a few times in five minute increments.

It was at this point, where I, full of susceptibility, fell under his conspiracy theories. He spent three or four hours explaining to us that there were freemasons who controlled our entire planet. He made wildly inaccurate claims that I didn't know enough to dispute. He claimed to have done all this research. And honestly, I had no way of saying he hadn't . I had never even thought of doing 'research' on anything before, and I always assumed that the word itself clarified that the findings of that research were accurate. Actually, to be honest, I was closed minded enough and annoyed by school that I didn't think it was even a decent thing for a person to be doing. He talked about how they invented war, and poverty, and schools and prisons. They had levels, and some of them were in the police, some where teachers and others could just be your neighbors. They were all hiding within society, watching for people like us, and doing what they could to systematically prevent us from reaching our full potential. As he talked and talked, a web of power began to form in my mind. It wasn't something I quite understood, and some of my questions of why seemed weak. Basically, though, it really sunk in in big fact-blocks that I failed to question. Freemasons were controlling the entire world. And many of the things that happened in my life could be deconstructed and understood as outside manipulative forces pulling strings.

I feel a little ashamed to explain how invested I became in these conspiracy theories, the websites, the misinformation and the inconsistencies. The precursors to Alex Jones an all of that. Of course many of the conspiracy theorists were left wing as well as right, and I was too young and naive to really know what it meant to sort through it all. I really do understand what it is like to live with that foreboding sense of knowing that the world is out to get you and there are people who are pulling the strings. But at the time, this is the reality I now lived in. I am sure if someone had psychologically broke down my psyche at that stage in my life, they would have revealed that there was a psychological need to cling to these conspiracy theories. And it can also be said that some of the skepticism I started to have towards the world actually did me some good. There are some facts I learned in my exploration for the truth behind the veil. Prescott Bush was a fascist, Martin Luther King was likely assassinated by our own government, the media really is owned by six corporations, research really has been hidden from the public, and there really are there rich families in the world that pull strings to increase their wealth. It was a good attitude to take to the war on terror, the war on drugs later on. I can't entirely say it was all bad. But believing that the government has time machines, or that the government has the cure to every single disease and simply has suppressed it to that level, the moon landing is a hoax, fluoride in the water is turning us all to zombies, The Rothschild family are trillionaires, there are cameras in our microwaves, and the neighbor is watching me – this stuff is embarrassing to admit that I fell into.

When I left that night, I felt really strange. Sort of empty, and helpless, but also very aware, and also kind of hollowed out. I remember one of the last things Zack said to me before leaving that night. He told me that the only thing that the government could never control were artists. Nobody could ever control what I choose to put down on paper, be it writing, or art. This gave me this vague sense of purpose. I was already strongly along the path of resisting school, resisting adults, and authority in general, but now it was almost a moral incentive to disregard the social order as a whole, and to never trust anyone again who wasn't Zack, or Sarah. And sadly this really closed my mind and made me rather mentally unstable.

I started getting really into The Doors. I especially thought Jim Morrison was cool – for obvious reasons, among those, he was a poet and seemed to be edgy and rebellious and at the same time ethereal mystical and he was dead and spelled one of the things we consider when we look at the end of the 60's era. And he was nothing like me in many ways. Where I was clumsy, unmysterious, trapped and cautious, Jim Morrison was not. And he was beautiful. I was never into his looks personally, but he did radiate a certain beauty with a fair amount of effortlessness. I could never achieve balancing on the fine line that he balanced upon. Jim Morrison in his time lived in a different plain of existence than I did. I would often wish that I had lived during the sixties rather than the 21st century, and I think in an attempt to be more like those I admired, I stopped washing my hair to be like Kurt Cobain and my interpretation of many of the counter culture icons I thought seemed legit. I heard from someone that Jim Morrison never changed his pants. I actually don't know if this is actually true or not, but my English teacher told me that her college friend's uncle's friend knew Jim and that he would go several months without cleaning his pants, which gave them this soft slickness that was almost disturbing to the touch.

So I decided to follow suit and never wash my pants. It also didn't help that my few pairs of jeans that I owned had holes all over. They never fit me right, and the bottoms of them dragged on the ground and caused them to split up the leg eventually, and walking eroded the jeans between my legs. I had to wear tights under my jeans to not feel nude, and my father didn't see the need to buy me jeans that actually fit or were of high quality, or even at all really. So in a sense, I might have been trying to embrace my poverty and the perceived dirtiness people felt that I had always embodied. So I had dyed pink hair that was full of grease all the time, dirty torn up pants (not the trendy kind of torn), an angry look on my face with tons of black eyeliner, and a mind abuzz with conspiracies – most of it being childishly distant from anything resembling reality. I think I remember crying nervously one cold night looking at the power outlet on the wall – thinking that maybe, just maybe freemasons were looking at me through that mysterious electrical outlet. These are the kinds of things I am not proud to admit happened, and I am glad they are over.

My father at this time was really invested in his girlfriend Patty down in Boise – maybe more so or just as much as he had been with Jodi, and I think the notion that she was sitting on a million dollars, and seemed classier than he was made him feel ashamed of his life up in North Idaho with his lower middle class wages. He felt like a menial factory cog with no education courting a millionaire. And truth be told, he was tired of being a father altogether. He felt very strongly that we prevented him from moving forward with his life, or at least he propped us up in that way. He hated me for growing up. He felt I looked too much like my mother, and he just seemed to hate me half the time, but couldn't fully express it. His annoyance at having to be a father in general was growing. And he began telling Allison, David and I that he was considering moving to Boise and leaving us behind. His foolish plan was to give my mom the house that he had bought for her all those years anyway, and leave all of us behind. This didn't upset me in the least. First of all, I didn't believe it would actually happen at all. Plus, though I had issues with my mom for sure, with the absence of my father also went the absence of feeling stressed out and the feeling that I should be ashamed of myself. I felt like in many ways, as crazy as my mom was, I would be liberated mentally as well as physically. Plus, my father had already disappointed me. It wasn't a great shock to be abandoned. It was a fact of life really. There was an element of chaos honestly to the idea of him leaving for good that I felt I could thrive in.

This news broke my little brother's heart though. He looked up to my father, and it permanently damaged a sense of confidence he had in our father, but when you are a small child, that sense of abandonment spreads to everything around you. He felt like my father had just emotionally abandoned him and had never really loved him to begin with. Even if it never came to pass, the fact that my father was so invested in the idea of leaving us all behind as to tell us early to buffer the results was the greatest betrayal. I think Allison, having always been overlooked by both me and David felt a cold sort of distance with the situation, but she also felt abandoned.

It was around this time that the Nirvana Box set, 'With the Lights Out' came out. I was incredibly excited about it. And when Sarah and I both got our box sets, we listened to the songs over and over again. Some of my favorites were 'They Hung Him On a Cross', Verse Chorus Verse' and 'Don't Want It All'. One weekend, I came back from my mom's and Sarah told me that she had picked up the guitar and had learned a song from the box set. I was immediately a little shaken with jealousy about this. I still didn't really know any songs. I didn't understand tablature. I kept practicing the things my father told me to on the guitar, but I felt that there was something I wasn't getting, and there was no further way for me to pick it up. My dad told me if I didn't get 'it' on my own, than I never would. I was hoping for something more constructive and encouraging. And Sarah had never played guitar before. Her father had randomly bought her one – probably stole it from someone who he lied to about his identity (a common trick of his). And she learned 'Opinion' by Nirvana. She just, picked up a guitar, learned four chords and was already better than me. She also sang, and it seemed really awesome to me.

Honestly, I had so little to be proud of, and I had been meagerly hoping to get better somehow, and it hadn't happened. I had been working tirelessly to get better, but I was lost. And I couldn't draw that well anymore in comparison to Sarah either. Something inside of me had become emotionally stuck. It was something psychological, and I didn't know how to get over it. It was something instilled in me from Ava and my father and just the school in general. I could put a pen to paper but I couldn't seem to create anything. I could strum a guitar, but music never seemed to be what happened. And Sarah in many ways was naive and childish about the world. She had never had much serious pain in her life aside from a vague empty depression that she mostly was able to ignore. So it was a great insult to me and everything I was trying to hold onto. That the world punishes people and molds them into something finer. Instead, I felt like the misery I had thus far experienced was making me weaker somehow, and I was meant to watch Ava move on to do great things in her life, and Sarah to be admired. And thus I was immediately poisoned by envy that I couldn't shake. Not only was I not confident enough to perform six months after secretly playing, but I could never have done it with confidence in a single weekend like she did. And she not only played the guitar, she sang and well. She played faster than me, and it all happened with a seemingly effortless magic about it. I was crushed and humiliated. I felt sick with myself, but I had no formula to defeat my own failings. I went home and felt this self loathing frustration. I cried and screamed in my pillow. I couldn't exactly hate Sarah, because she had never wronged me, and she was my only friend. But I was beginning to resent myself whenever I was in her presence.

I later realized that part of the reason I might have been struggling as a guitarist was because I am left handed and I was playing right handed guitar. It made strumming, particularly finger picking a little more difficult.

My mother moved out of Jim and Connie's, and she started house watching for this woman named Linda, who was gone for several weeks at a time to watch over a hot springs resort that she partially owned that was five hours away. So I got to stay in her nice house for a bit. It was a mediocre home for the most part actually, but it was very nice by the standards that I was used to. They had cable television and three bedrooms. There were two Labradors that lived there, who were very nice. It was nice and cozy, and there was food to eat. Outside was beginning to be winter. I remember watching all of Forest Gump for the first time since I was young, and realizing that the movie was actually kind of silly. I had just assumed that Forest Gump's life was completely realistic when I was younger. Also, I decided to use their phone and call Sarah. I didn't realize this, but I ended up costing Linda a whole bunch of money, because I stayed on the phone with Sarah for six hours at a time. It was quite common for me in those days to stay on the phone with friends for that long. And strangely enough, I don't think I ever met Linda. I might have, but it was years previous to the house sitting.

I think we had Christmas at Linda's but I cannot be sure. I know we ended up having New Year's there. There was a major fight between my father and mother during that time, and up to that point for the most part the two of them had done well to avoid dealing with one another in any way. Basically, what I remember was – my mom wanted to have my father take us kids for New Year's since her and Danny were going to go out and she didn't want us around. It was her time to have us, and my father felt put out by this, since he felt like he had taken us every time she wanted to drink or anything during the holidays for years, so he told her no. This enraged her and she lost her shit completely. She ended up telling us all she was going to have him thrown in prison for it. I felt this was incredibly flaky. So, as I mentioned clear back in part 1 or part 2 of this story, my older half sister made up that my father had molested her, when in fact he had not. Roxanne later admitted to me that he hadn't, and given that, for all my father's faults he never seemed to have a pedophilia aspect to his personality at all, I tend to feel like this is complete and total confirmation that nothing ever happened.

My mother had selectively decided not to care about the whole ordeal. She might have cared when she first heard about it, but later on, she still would leave us kids with my dad, and at times didn't even seem to hold it against him, that he potentially had raped her daughter. Early on, her and Roxanne had both let him babysit Sagen, Roxanne's daughter. So it always seemed a little fishy to me for that reason as well. Nobody in their right mind would selectively not care about something like this. Of course, Roxanne knew she had lied, so her selective lack of concern made some sense. My mom however, had decided not to accept it when Roxanne told us that she had lied. She still chose to believe the molestation had in fact happened. So when she didn't care about what my father had done, she did so from a very selfish place – if that is, she truly believed in the molestation to begin with.

So, she made some phone calls. I don't know who she called exactly, but I believe it is some kind of hotline to report crimes of this nature. Her plan was to extract revenge on our dad for what she figured he had done years ago. And all of this was based on him not wanting to take us for New Years Eve. She literally wanted to get him thrown in prison for not taking us for a New Years, that is how petty and fucked up she was/is. Even though my father was not a grand person to me a lot of the time, I really believe that people should be charged with the crimes they committed rather ones that they have not committed. And this was her card to play, that she had felt she had had for years if my father didn't do what she wanted.

She explained to us that we might never see our father again, as she believed that as soon as she made this phone call, police were going to find my father and hold him in custody. She called Roxanne and told her that she would give Roxanne a lot of money if Roxanne would testify against my father in court. I am not sure what Roxanne's response to any of this was. This plan my mother was hatching really was all her ego flaring out of control, angry at the mere notion of having been told 'no' and therefore disappointing Danny. The people who my mom spoke to over the phone, only based off what they heard my mother tell them, explained to her that too much time had passed for him to be convicted. If it had happened, it would have been in the 80's. They were extremely apologetic, and for what it's worth, I think that is a very unfortunate law and they were very sorry. I absently listened to her talk to them over the phone as this all happened. My mother was pissed.

Eventually, Noah left school. He had been a senior set to graduate in a matter of one more semester, but he just decided to drop out. I had gone from being very nice to him, and then when I realized that he had started to have a crush on me, I had decided to be overly rude to him. A part of it was actually just girlish immaturity on my own part. I wasn't used to the idea of someone having a crush on me at all, and rather than face that Noah was also a real person who was capable of having thoughts and feelings, I rejected him entirely because it made me uncomfortable. A part of it too was that I was immaturely blaming him personally for making Zack move. Because he was there, Zack didn't feel like the center of attention any longer. And I was sorry I had set it up that way, but I wasn't mature enough to see it for what it was, and was much happier to blame Noah as if he directly had chosen to ruin things for me. It was a strange psychological blame that made absolutely no sense, but made me feel better. So I took that out on him as well. Also, I legitimately didn't understand what I had done to make him have a crush on me. I never felt like I was hitting on him. I suppose it was because I had no feelings for him really that I was able to be more myself around him, assuming that this wouldn't mean much to him. Instead he had started to grow fond of me. And I figured the only way to undo that was to be a jerk.

I don't remember much of what I said or did, but I spent about a month being really mean towards him on purpose in a manner I was not typically used to being towards anyone else. And I feel a bit badly about that now. It wasn't right. I am sure it came as a shock when I was being so nice to him for a few months, making jokes, questioning him and the like and then cutting him off and acting like he was gross for seemingly no reason. He had perhaps hoped we would become really close friends or more, perhaps carrying that light hearted feeling home with him that I could have related to all too well had I opened my mind to the idea. He had no other friends. And I probably ruined many of his days and nights by being ridiculously mean for no reason. I am sorry he got caught in the cogs of my emotional instability. This isn't to say that I should have given him a chance. I really didn't like him like that. Still, it was certainly not something I am very proud of.

There is only one thing I remember about Christmas that year. And that is this was the day when I discovered David Bowie. My brother David liked the Labyrinth soundtrack with all those memorable David Bowie songs from the film, and because of this my father was reminded of his own fondness for early David Bowie. So he decided to buy David 'The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars' for Christmas. After everyone opened their gifts, we put the album on to listen to. I had expected I wouldn't like it. I was hesitant to appreciate a man who looked so feminine. I was so brought up by 90's and early 00's butt rock that the idea that someone could be anything, as it felt like David Bowie could be was a strange thing for me to accept.

Then the album started playing. I had never heard anything so pure and perfect in my entire life. As soon as the vocals came in on Five Years 'Pushing through the market square ..' I felt like I was melting into a better something. I felt a new kind of life in me emerging. This sense that I could grow and change. That no one or no anything is one thing or the other. What I partially took from David Bowie was that rebelling didn't have to be something like 'oh, you took the left side, so I took the right side to anger you and oppose you'. David Bowie represented for me at least, a way of looking at the world that was more about free expression not based on defiance, but by this pure enigma of passion for art itself. Nobody could reach you there to put the shackles on you, and you didn't have to do things to insult your oppressors by doing everything opposite to them. I didn't have to not wash up because people who fit into a society better than I did, did bath. By defining myself as some kind of anti version of them, I was in a way still letting them define me. The real way to liberation was to live in a world of such pure inspiration and passion and to live that life shamelessly. My mind had for that last year, gravitated into black and white. David Bowie sort of made my world into a rainbow.

I listened to that album about twenty times on Christmas day alone. It was David's but he wasn't as fixated by Ziggy Stardust as I was. I wanted to look like David Bowie. It didn't seem overly important to me if he was a man or a woman. Those traits seemed secondary to some greater essence of being that radiated off him. Every song on that album was absolutely perfect. But somehow it was also more than just music. Having this album in my life basically changed things for me. It changed how I looked myself in the mirror, it changed my art, the words that came to me when I thought. It really did transcend what David Bowie probably ever intended. It helped cure my feelings of hopelessness. A sense of calm came over me. It didn't fix me per say, but it was the one thread of something I had found to hold onto for an entire year of empty rebellion and empty spirit.

PART 43 - http://tinyurl.com/yckvswd7

PART 42 - http://tinyurl.com/ycnng83q

PART 41 - http://tinyurl.com/y84kmttv

PART 40 - http://tinyurl.com/y8aj6kmq

PART 39 - http://tinyurl.com/y97vprft

PART 38 - http://tinyurl.com/ycr7la8q

PART 37 - http://tinyurl.com/y8trssqd

PART 36 - http://tinyurl.com/y9ygq9q8

PART 35 - http://tinyurl.com/ya5xhe2f

PART 34 - http://tinyurl.com/yc6y4p69

PART 33 - http://tinyurl.com/y87449dz

PART 32 - http://tinyurl.com/ycetanep

PART 31 - http://tinyurl.com/yae3o4rd

PART 30 - http://tinyurl.com/ybht9aul

PART 29 - http://tinyurl.com/ybfcr9j2

PART 28 - http://tinyurl.com/yagdlo47

PART 27 - http://tinyurl.com/ydcj5fgf

PART 26 - http://tinyurl.com/y73nvl73

PART 25 - http://tinyurl.com/y6v6pgoj

PART 24 - http://tinyurl.com/ycak5d8r

PART 23 - http://tinyurl.com/yac6sk3g

PART 22 - http://tinyurl.com/yat6cfnw

PART 21 - http://tinyurl.com/y783egno

PART 20 - http://tinyurl.com/y8jskymt

PART 19 - http://tinyurl.com/rfhbms8

PART 18 - http://tinyurl.com/ycrznrwk

PART 17 - http://tinyurl.com/y77unlng

PART 16 - http://tinyurl.com/yadpsv8c

PART 15 - http://tinyurl.com/yb3lt6k5

PART 14 - http://tinyurl.com/yb4cfedq

PART 13 - http://tinyurl.com/yalanq9s

PART 12 - http://tinyurl.com/yc79mw94

PART 11 - http://tinyurl.com/yc9qhj84

PART 10 - http://tinyurl.com/yb734w24

PART 9 - http://tinyurl.com/yc2t6vfw

PART 8 - http://tinyurl.com/ybl37utq

PART 7 - http://tinyurl.com/ybvo283g

PART 6 - http://tinyurl.com/kbc9dwu

PART 5 - http://tinyurl.com/msnz4am

PART 4 - http://tinyurl.com/k9x8esg

PART 3 - http://tinyurl.com/mwp9atx

PART 2 - http://tinyurl.com/lbt6xq2

PART 1 - http://tinyurl.com/l8xbvg8

#text

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