#and then suddenly what do you know two of her neighbors have covid and I was right

[tearlessrain]

I've had anxiety pretty much all my life and having my fears/concerns brushed off is not a new thing for me and sometimes it's justified, but it is uniquely annoying in this case because I keep being right, repeatedly, throughout the pandemic, and people are still acting like I'm just being my panicky self and it's not as big a deal as I'm making it.

[infiniteglitterfall]

know someone who enjoys horror stories? share this one! it's true!

hahahahahahahahahaha aarrggghhhhhhhhhh 3,000,000 deaths due to COVID-19 last year. Globally. Three million. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. The reason people are still worried about COVID is because it has a way of quietly fucking up your body. And the risk is cumulative.

I'm going to say that again: the risk is cumulative.

It's not just that a lot of people get bad long-term effects from it. One in seven or so? Enough that it's kind of the Russian Roulette of diseases. It's also that the more times you get it, the higher that risk becomes. Like if each time you survived Russian Roulette, the empty chamber was removed from the gun entirely. The worst part is that, psychologically, we have the absolute opposite reaction. If we survive something with no ill effects, we assume it's pretty safe. It is really, really hard to override that sense of, "Ok, well, I got it and now I probably have a lot of immunity and also it wasn't that bad." It is not a respiratory disease. Airborne, yes. Respiratory disease, no: not a cold, not a flu, not RSV.

Like measles (or maybe chickenpox?), it starts with respiratory symptoms. And then it moves to other parts of your body. It seems to target the lungs, the digestive system, the heart, and the brain the most.

It also hits the immune system really hard - a lot of people are suddenly more susceptible to completely unrelated viruses. People get brain fog, migraines, forget things they used to know.

(I really, really hate that it can cross the blood-brain barrier. NOTHING SHOULD EVER CROSS THE BLOOD-BRAIN BARRIER IT IS THERE FOR A REASON.) Anecdotal examples of this shit are horrifying. I've seen people talk about coworkers who've had COVID five or more times, and now their work... just often doesn't make sense? They send emails that say things like, "Sorry, I didn't mean Los Angeles, I meant Los Angeles."

Or they insist they've never heard of some project that they were actually in charge of a year or two before.

Or their work is just kind of falling apart, and they don't seem to be aware of it.

People talk about how they don't want to get the person in trouble, so their team just works around it. Or they describe neighbors and relatives who had COVID repeatedly, were nearly hospitalized, talked about how incredibly sick they felt at the time... and now swear they've only had it once and it wasn't bad, they barely even noticed it.

(As someone who lived with severe dissociation for most of my life, this is a genuinely terrifying idea to me. I've already spent my whole life being like, "but what if I told them that already? but what if I did do that? what if that did happen to me and I just don't remember?") One of its known effects in the brain is to increase impulsivity and risk-taking, which is real fucking convenient honestly. What a fantastic fucking mutation. So happy for it on that one. Yes, please make it seem less important to wear a mask and get vaccinated. I'm not screaming internally at all now.

I saw a tweet from someone last year whose family hadn't had COVID yet, who were still masking in public, including school.

She said that her son was no kind of an athlete. Solidly bottom middle of the pack in gym.

And suddenly, this year, he was absolutely blowing past all the other kids who had to run the mile. He wasn't running any faster. His times weren't fantastic or anything. It's just that the rest of the kids were worse than him now. For some reason. I think about that a lot. (Like my incredibly active six-year-old getting a cold, and suddenly developing post-viral asthma that looked like pneumonia.

He went back to school the day before yesterday, after being home for a month and using preventative inhalers for almost week.

He told me that it was GREAT - except that he couldn't run as much at recess, because he immediately got really tired. Like how I went outside with him to do some yard work and felt like my body couldn't figure out how to increase breathing and heart rate.

I wasn't physically out of breath, but I felt like I was out of breath. That COVID feeling people describe, of "I'm not getting enough air." Except that I didn't have that problem when I had COVID.) Some people don't observe any long (or medium) term side effects after they have it.

But researchers have found viral reservoirs of COVID-19 in everyone they've studied who had it.

It just seems to hang out, dormant, for... well, longer than we've had an opportunity to observe it, so far.

(I definitely watched that literal horror movie. I think that's an entire genre. The alien dormant under ice in the Arctic.)

(oh hey I don't like that either!!!!!!!!!) All of which is to explain why we should still care about avoiding it, and how it manages to still cause excess deaths. Measuring excess deaths has been a standard tool in public health for a long time.

We know how many people usually die from all different causes, every year. So we can tell if, for example, deaths from heart disease have gone way up in the past three years, and look for reasons. Those are excess deaths: deaths that, four years ago, would not have happened. During the pandemic, excess death rates have been a really important tool. For all sorts of reasons. Like, sometimes people die from COVID without ever getting tested, and the official cause is listed as something else because nobody knows they had COVID. But also, people are dying from cardiovascular illness much younger now.

People are having strokes and heart attacks younger, and more often, than they did before the pandemic started. COVID causes a lot of problems. And some of those problems kill people. And some of them make it easier for other things to kill us. Lung damage from COVID leading to lungs collapsing, or to pneumonia, or to a pulmonary embolism, for example. The Economist built a machine-learning model with a 95% confidence interval that gauges excess death statistics around the world, to tell them what the true toll of the ongoing COVID pandemic has been so far.

Total excess deaths globally in 2023: Three million.

3,000,000.

Official COVID-19 deaths globally so far: Seven million. 7,000,000. Total excess deaths during COVID so far: Thirty-five point two million. 35,200,000.

Five times as many.

That's bad. I don't like that at all. I'm glad last year was less than a tenth of that. I'm not particularly confident about that continuing, though, because last year we started a period of really high COVID transmission. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. Here's their data, and charts you can play with, and links to detailed information on how they did all of this:

Here's a non-paywalled link to it:

https://archive.vn/2024.01.26-012536/https://www.economist.com/graphic-detail/coronavirus-excess-deaths-estimates

Oh: here's a link to where you can buy comfy, effective N95 masks in all sizes:

Those ones are about a buck each after shipping - about $30 for a box of 30. They also have sample packs for a dollar, so you can try a couple of different sizes and styles.

You can wear an N95 mask for about 40 total hours before the effectiveness really drops, so that's like a dollar for a week of wear.

They're also family-owned and have cat-shaped masks and I really love them. These ones are cuter and in a much wider range of colors, prints, and styles, but they're also more expensive; they range from $1.80 to $3 for a mask. ($18-$30 for a box of ten.)

[literaltrashforeverything]

I'm gonna die on my deathbed explaining why Ghost is actually a normal person outside the military and he's extremely mischaracterized.

You will never be able to convince me that Simon "Ghost" Riley doesn't do normal person things outside of his job. Sure, his information his top-secret, but that's all the more reason for him to be a normal person outside deployments.

💀

Here's examples of Ghost being domestic:

- He goes grocery shopping every Thursday at 2:30PM because it's when the store is the least busy.

- He wears a black fabric surgical mask when he's not at home. He's more comfortable covering his face but it's not an issue if he's somewhere where he can't have a mask.

Was strangely comforted when COVID happened because it normalized wearing face masks.

- He sits in the mirror of his bathroom every two weeks so he can chop his hair when he grows too long.

- He's a phenomenal sniper but when it's time to shave his face then suddenly his hands are shaking and he's cut himself at least 4 times. (Prolly that sharp jawline 🤭)

- Loves dogs. Will ask people if he can pet their dog. (They're shitting themselves bc this giant masked man just asked to pet their dog in the most monotone voice)

- Has called Price to ask for advice on dating. He's got a crush on the girl from the coffee shop down the street from his flat and he needs some help on asking her out.

- when he's not on a deployment, he's probably at home eating pocky while watching Top Gun. Ends up falling asleep on the couch and snores like a dad.

- he's probably in his late 20s-early 30s and owns a flat somewhere in Manchester. (He was never able to fully separate himself from where he grew up)

- has a pet beta fish named Toes that the old neighbor lady takes care of while he's on deployment.

- He secretly pulls pranks around base when he's stationed somewhere. Nobody knows it's Ghost secretly leaving tiny plastic babies from Amazon around the entire base. He never gets caught and it's still a mystery where these babies keep popping up at.

- drinks milk, probably

- Will get violent if he watches an American microwave tea in front of him.

- Like Price, he WILL correct the word "soccer" into "football" like he's got some type of vendetta against the audacity.

- Sneezes like a fucking dad

- He's severely allergic to cats so the second he sees one, he will instantly abort mission. It's a whole scene watching a 6'5 skull-masked man jerk back the second a cat steps in front of him while he's on a mission.

- Hates spiders. He's not the spider killer around the base. Will not go into a room if he's seen a spider in there unless someone else killed it for him.

- He listens to Queen, you can't convince me otherwise.

- (Killer Queen is his favorite)

- He actually has an entire tattoo sleeve on his left arm, not just a forearm sleeve. If you look close enough, you can tell that it's actually just the most cliché military tattoo sleeve that's ever existed. He didn't even care what the tattoo was, he just wanted one to look cool.

- Bad Santa is unironically his favorite movie.

- Plays first-person shooter games with Gaz sometimes and always loses.

- Is the guy who brings beer to literally any event ever. Without fail. And it's always a beer that only he likes so he can have it all for himself. Everyone else started drinking them despite how disgusting they are just because they figured out that he was trying to hoard it for himself.

- Sucks at playing Monopoly. Absolutely no strategy.

💀

I can keep going lmao. I have ideas for days lmaooo

[loveisnotovertae]

Love Is Not Over

✏️Taehyung x OFC ✏️Friends to Lover AU 🛑 Rated 18+ 📖WC:1613 ⚠️Mentally abusive and controlling ex, stalking, mention of anxiety cheating, COVID, drinking, drunk hookup, masturbation, oral, accidental marriage, accidental pregnancy⚠️

Mae always wanted to go to South Korea and visit all the places her Aunt and Uncle used to tell her stories about. So after catching her fiancè cheating, she did just that. Her two month trip turned into a permanent stay thanks to covid lockdown. A friendly neighbor turned best friend, who just so happened to be part of the biggest music group in the world. A drunken night that changed her life forever.

Chapter 23

Mae stared aimlessly out the window behind her computer. She was supposed to be working, but at some point she found herself looking over the city below. She’d been doing paperwork when her mind started to wonder.

Yesterday after she and Taehyung ate breakfast they went to the lawyer’s office. Things weren’t looking good for Tyler. The lawyer along with the government were going to charge him with everything they could, from entering Korea with ill intentions to attempted kidnapping. As they read off the list, Mae was amazed at how careless Tyler had become just to get revenge on something that was his own fault. He of course denied everything but with recordings and witnesses of what he did and confessed to in public it wasn’t looking well.

Once they’d finished up there the two of them came back to the apartment where Taehyung insisted that they get Mae’s room unpacked. While they waited for their lunch to be delivered before they got started, Taehyung made sure to let her know multiple times that just because she was about to have her own bed again didn’t mean that his bed wasn’t still open for her.

Later that night while the two of them laid in bed, Mae suddenly remembered Taehyung’s live and figured it would be a great time to ask him about it while she was cloaked in the safety of the darkness.

“Hey, Tae?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“I guess that depends on what it is.” he answered sleepily as he shifted in the bed.

“How did you come up with the little story you told on your livestream?”

“Namjoon and Yoongi helped me,” he said with a yawn. “I told them I wanted to say something to ARMY, so they came to my room and we figured it out together. I pretty much knew what I wanted to say but I wanted to make sure it came out correctly.”

“So you did rehearse it?”

“Mmhmm,”

“And what about when you were answering the questions?”

“That was all on the spot.”

“But was it true?”

“Yes, I answered the rest of the questions truthfully.” he softly answered before giving in to sleep.

When Mae woke up this morning Taehyung was already gone to the office and The Eomeonis were sitting at the dining room table.

The moment she stepped foot in the entryway she was greeted by a happy Yeontan and the older women doing laundry while they drank their coffee.

“Good morning, daughter,” the two women said in unison as she picked up the little ball of fur to give him some pets and kisses.

“I didn’t know you two were coming over today.” Mae shifted Yeontan in her arms and sat down at the table.

“When I called my son this morning he said that you guys finally got your room setup. So we came over to help you clean up.” Taehyung’s mother said, setting a warm cup of Mae’s favorite tea in front of her.

“The two of you didn’t need to go to all this trouble. I would’ve been fine doing it alone today.”

“It’s no trouble at all. We’ve already cleaned up the room. All we have left is the laundry.”

“You’re a business woman now.” Jimin’s mother added. “Go get cleaned up and dressed. We’ll get you some breakfast and then bring it in so that you can get started.”

Mae didn’t argue. She gave the two women a hug then went and did as she was told.

The Eomeonis, along with Yeontan, check on her off and on throughout the day. About every hour or so at least one of them would come in with a fresh drink, snack and to make sure she took a break.

Six hours later and she was still there at her desk. Work long forgotten as the smell of dinner filled the room. Mae closed her laptop, stretched and smiled at Yeontan, who’d taken up residency on the freshly made bed, before padding down the hall to the kitchen.

“There she is!” Taehyung’s mother looked up from the dish of food she was placing on the table when she heard Mae enter. “Sit daughter,” she said, gesturing to one of the empty chairs. “Let’s eat, drink some wine and you can tell us what had you staring out the window oblivious to the world for the past hour.”

Mae winced in embarrassment and placed Yeontan on the flood and then sat down. “It was an hour?”

“Roughly. I came in to let you know we were starting dinner earlier, because it’s going to start storming in a few hours.”

“I can’t thank you two enough for today.”

“No thanks needed. You’re our daughter and it’s the least we could do.” Taehyung’s mother finished putting food on Mae’s plate. “Now,” she said before sitting in her own seat. “Tell us what’s on your mind.”

“When…when did you know your husbands were your forevers?”

The two older women look at her with knowing smiles.

“It just felt right.” Jimin’s mother answered.

“Could you be a little more specific? For five years of my life I thought it felt right with Tyler. But looking back on it now…”

Jimin’s mother spoke when Mae’s words trailed off “He feels like home, a piece of my soul that I was missing. When I’m with him I feel safe and like I’m the most important person in the world. I have nothing to fear because he would never hurt me and would never let anyone else. The simplest things bring me happiness and comfort when I’m with him. He doesn’t have to prove he loves me, the littlest things like sitting beside me in comfortable silence is enough for me.”

“Mae, are you in love with Tae?” Taehyung’s mother asked softly.

“Yes…no…maybe…ugh! I don’t know.” Mae picked up her wine glass and quickly downed it. “This whole thing is so frustrating. Why am I scared of even the possibility that I could be in love with him?” She moved her plate to the side and rested her forehead on the edge of the table. “Why did he have to admit that him saying he loved me on the livestream was true?”

“Oh my goodness,” Jimin’s mother giggled.

Mae lifted her head to look at the two women, “Oh my goodness, what? Why are you two snickering like you know something?”

“We are laughing because Taehyung thought he dreamt that,” she sighed and touched Mae’s arm. “I fear if the two of you don’t talk face to face and confess your feelings for each other, the two of you will explode.”

“I’m just scared,” Mae pouted.

“Our sweet daughter, you can’t let one bad apple ruin the whole batch. One of things you wanted to do after you left Tyler was to take your life back, yeah?” The younger of the three nodded in agreement. “Then why are you living it as if you are still being controlled?”

“Let yourself be free, Mae. Completely and utterly free. Know more second guessing or else you might find yourself living a life of regret.”

┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛

Mae shot straight up in bed when a loud clap of thunder woke her from her peaceful dream. Her room was dark except for the small amount of light coming through the window.

After the Eomeonis left she cleaned up, put on her pajamas, sat on the bed with her computer and decided to spend the remainder of her evening working while she waited for Taehyung to come back from his group dinner. She must’ve fallen asleep at some point, there was now a blanket over her and the computer was sitting on her desk. She grabbed her phone that was still sitting on the end table where she’d put it.

It was almost two in the morning. There was a text message from two hours ago, Taehyung letting her know he was on his way home.

Mae jumped when another loud clap of thunder echoed around her room. She got up and slowly walked over to the window and then decided to go to the restroom when she couldn’t see out of it because of the heavy rain. She hated thunderstorms. One vacation with her Aunt and Uncle had them hiding out in a creepy storm cellar for almost an hour because of a tornado warning. They weren’t directly hit but the damage from the storm was enough to frighten Mae each time a bad storm came.

Mae squealed and quickly ran from the bathroom to her bed for protection. She sat there under her blanket and looked around the barely lit room while she tried to figure out her next move. There was no way she’d get any sleep until after the storm passed. Taehyung was home judging by her computer being on her desk and the blanket that was over her.

She could go into the living room where it is quieter due to the lack of windows. But she’d have to turn on some music or a movie to block out the sound from the glass patio doors in the dining room.

When the whistles and groans from the strong wind filled her room, Mae stood up and peeked out her bedroom door. There was no sign of life in the apartment and Taehyung’s bedroom door was closed, which meant he was asleep. She looked down the hall toward the living room, she couldn’t be too loud if she chose to hunker down in there. She didn’t want to accidentally wake him up with all the noise. Then she looked back at his closed door. She could quietly sneak in and lay in his bed with him, that way at least she wasn’t alone.

Another echo of thunder had her grabbing her phone and sprinting out her door. Her intention was to go to the living room, but her legs had their own plan and brought her to Taehyung’s room. Mae quickly opened the door and went inside.

“What the fuck?”

Mae turned just in time to see a shirtless Taehyung grab one of the extra pillows and cover his lower half. She stood there for a second looking over his naked torso, his breathing was labored. She realized what she’d just walked in on when she could see the flesh of his hip sticking out the top of the sheet just under the pillow.

She’d walked in on him pleasuring himself and just the thought of him doing that made her completely forget the storm outside.

“Mae? Are you okay?”

She didn’t reply, she slowly walked to the bed and put her phone on the table. Right now she was letting her needs control her actions and she was intrigued on how far she and Taehyung would allow her to go before either of them stopped her. Mae kept her eyes locked on the pillow that was being held down by his hand. Those hands that she’d often dreamt and fantasized about.

“What are you doing?” Taehyung’s voice turned from a worried tone to curious. He cocked his head to the side and watched her as she got on the bed and slowly crawled his direction with focused eyes.

Mae gently reached out for the pillow, a smile tugged at her lips when he removed his hand, not stopping her. The strongest feeling of pleasure she’d ever felt swirled around her body when she could see the outline of his still stiff cock through the thin sheet.

She put the pillow at the foot of the bed and then finally looked at him before making her next move. Taehyung’s smile and curious eyes were enough to give her the last bit of remaining confidence she needed to continue. She’d never given a man oral before. Tyler was against it, saying it was unhealthy. She didn’t know if she’d be any good at it, but right now everything inside of her wanted her to at least try.

Her eyes moved back to the top of the sheet. The thin piece of fabric that hid the part of him she had many wet dreams about. A feeling of pride washed over her when he shivered at the feeling of her fingers grazing his lower abdomen as she moved the sheet out of her way.

Taehyung let out the most beautiful breathy moan she’d ever heard as she slowly took him into her mouth as far as she could. Mae let out a moan of her own when his fingers snaked in her hair, pulling it a little when he moved it out of her face.

Her movements quickened once his breathing became rigid and the fingers of one hand dug into her thigh as the other tightened around her hair. She was enjoying the cries of pleasure coming from him. They were more erotic and sinful than she had ever imagined.

The sound of her name falling from his lips as the warm liquid of his release filled her mouth made her lady parts clinch with need in a way they’d never done before.

Mae sat back on her calves once she finished. It took her a couple of seconds before she could look in Taehyung’s direction. When she did, a smile spread across her face as she looked at him laying there, eyes already looking at her, breath heavy and a relaxed smile on his face.

“What the hell was that for? I’m not complaining, but,” he ran his hands over his face trying to focus, “Fuck, Mae. You could have warned me.”

“I just wanted to see how far I’d go, or how far you’d let me go,” she confessed.

“Well I’d say you got pretty far,” Taehyung chuckled, propping himself up on his elbows.

“How was it? Was it bad? I’ve never…um…” Mae bit the inside of her cheek and nervously waved her hand around his still uncovered member. “I’ve never done that before. I’ve always wanted to try it at least once.” She knew she was rambling, but she didn’t care. “I was told today that I need to stop being afraid and second guessing myself or I could end up living a life with regret. So when I saw you laying there, I realized what I accidentally walked in on and I took my chance. Oh my god! I didn’t ask you if it was okay first.” She put her hand over her mouth as her eyes widened in realization, “I am so sorry, Tae.”

Taehyung sat up so that he could look at her face to face. “It’s alright, Mae.” His hand grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand away. “While we are being honest, then you should know that I was fantasizing about you walking in and catching me.”

“You were?”

“Yes,” he whispered, bringing her wrist to his lips, kissing it. “What you did was amazing.” he said slowly kissing up her arm, not missing the way her body reacted to his touch. “It brings me a lot of pleasure to know I’m the only one you’ve ever done that to.”

Mae’s body filled with the need for pleasure again at his soft lust filled voice. The way this man had so much control over her body and emotions was both scary and exciting. Her breath hitched when he brought his face inches from her, his eyes traveling back and forth between her eyes and her lips. Silently asking her if he could kiss her.

Mae leaned forward, connecting their lips. The kiss started soft and slow. Their lips moving gently in rhythm with each other. Taehyung helped her to adjust her legs so she was no longer sitting on them and then gently laid her on her back, settling himself in between them.

The room filled with their moans when the kissing became heated and Taehyung used his position to his advantage, moving his hips to rub his stiffness against her warmth.

“Mae?” he whispered, kissing his way from her lips to her neck.

“Ye…yes,” she stuttered as she tried to hold back a moan.

“Can I return the favor?” he asked, bringing his hand up to unbutton the top of her pajamas.

“Favor for what?” Her breaths quickened when she felt his hands explore her now bare chest and his lips trailing down to do the same. She felt like her body was going to explode, she’d never felt like this from a simple touch before and she didn’t want it to stop.

“Let me taste you, Mae. Let me do things to you that I’ve always wanted to do.” Taehyung stopped when he felt her go still under him.

“I’ve…I’ve never had anyone go down on me before.”

Taehyung looked at her, “What?”

“I’ve only been with one person, Tae. And they thought it was unhealthy, so we never did it. The closest anyone's face has come to my vagina is a doctor when I went for my yearly check up.”

Taehyung placed both hands on the bed, lifting himself up so he could look her in the eyes. “I will do whatever you are comfortable with, Mae. If you don’t want me to then I won't.”

Mae slid her hand around the back of his neck and used it to pull herself closer to his face. “I want you to,” she said, locking eyes with him. “I want you to do everything I’ve dreamt about and more. I want you, Taehyung.”

Mae watched the flicker of heat in Taehyung’s eyes before he closed them when he smashed their lips back together. The kisses were sloppy and full of hunger. Their lips didn’t part until after they’d worked together and removed her shorts and underwear. Mae slowly lowered herself back to the bed while Taehyung kissed, nibbled and licked his way down her torso.

“You’ll be calling me Dr. Kim, by the time I’m done,” Taehyung joked, helping her to relax while he positions himself.

“But your not a…OH FUCK ME!” Mae’s words quickly turned to cries of pleasure when Taehyung's tongue slid across her clit just before he took it in between his lips.

He didn’t go easy like she thought he would and she was loving it. It was like he was starving and the only thing that would satisfy the hunger was her.

Her body tingled and breathing became harder with each mini orgasm he gave her, she’d never had ones this strong before and she wasn’t done yet. Just like he’d done for her, Mae didn’t hold back on letting him know just how good it felt. She was enjoying every second. She grabbed a fist full of bedding and his hair when he pushed two fingers inside of her. It felt like he was in tune with her body and knew everything she needed.

When the ball of release coiling inside her finally exploded, she came hard. So hard that Taehyung had to use all his strength to hold her down with his arms, so that she wouldn’t squeeze his head or wiggle away. She came so hard that her cries of pleasure turned into whispers and noises when her voice gave out.

Once Taehyung was sure she’d completely finished, he kissed his way back up her torso. “Are you okay?” he softly asked. Mae, unable to find words, just nodded her head. He chuckled when he looked at the woman lying underneath him. Her eyes were closed and she had a satisfied smile on her face as she tried to settle her breathing. “I think we should get cleaned up and get some sleep.”

Mae’s eyes snapped open, “What? Why?” she asked with a pout.

“Because you look exhausted.”

“It’s not my fault you made me cum so hard I saw stars. Hell, even the small ones were better than any orgasim I’ve ever had.”

A smile tugged at Taehyung’s lips before he leaned down and gently kissed her. “We’ve got plenty of time, Mae,” he whispered, rubbing his nose against her’s. “We won’t stop until I’ve completed every fantasy and dream of me you’ve ever had.”

“That might take a while. The list keeps getting longer,” she whispered back, voice in a flirtatious tone she didn’t even recognize as her own. “Are you sure you want to stick around that long?”

“I’m not going anywhere, Mae.”

Mae’s heart skipped when Taehyung kissed her. This kiss was different. It was filled with so much emotion. Emotions that the two of them were too afraid to say out loud.

[rrpochi]

I was the only child of a loving family, my world painted with the vibrant hues of joy and laughter. My parents, Papa Rolando and Mama Cherille, were the pillars of my universe

In those carefree days of my childhood, my family spent weekends going to the nearby markets, going on picnics, and creating cherished memories. My father, was a gentle soul with a warm smile that could dissolve any worry. He would often lift me onto his shoulders, my laughter echoing through the air as we played games outside.

However, fate has a way of weaving unexpected twists into the fabric of our lives. One fateful day, tragedy struck in our family when my father met with a sudden and untimely demise. The once lively household now echoed with the haunting silence of grief.

My world crumbled. The warmth of my father's embrace was replaced by the cold reality of loss. My mother, now a widow, struggled to navigate the emotional turbulence, trying to hold onto the fragments of normalcy for me. The house that was once filled with laughter became a solemn echo of what it used to be.

Days turned into weeks, and I found myself grappling with the void left by my father's absence. The familiar routines became unfamiliar, and the once comforting hugs from my mother carried the weight of shared sorrow. The once vibrant colors in our life now seemed muted, as grief cast a shadow over my innocence.

Then one day, my mother started to change, she became an alcoholic. She then started to beat me when she was drunk. I would cry every night, asking what I did wrong. Why did she change? Doesn't she love me anymore? Where did my loving mother go? I would cry every night, wishing my father was by my side.

Years pass. I was 11 years old at the time when my mother met someone. My mother gives birth to my stepbrother, and my mother became more alcoholic when she met him. She still always beats me when she's drunk, she always makes me babysit my stepbrother, sometimes I would be absent because my mother and her new boyfriend were drinking, leaving my stepbrother alone. I always envy my neighbors because they can play outside without babysitting their siblings.

Then another year passes, my mother gives birth to my second stepbrother, and I have two siblings to babysit now. It's so tiring, isn't it?. I'm just a kid too, why can't I enjoy my life? Why can't I play outside like other kids do? I need my father, why did God take him away from me?

I would always harm myself every night, believing that the pain would go away someday.

Then one day, my mother decided to go abroad to find a job. I was happy that time. "My mother can't hurt me any more!" My inner self said that, but why did I feel sad? My heart and mind are fighting.

"No one will ever hurt you, silly," my mind said.

"But she is still my mother; of course I will miss her," my heart responded.

But I can't do anything if my mother really wants that. "Bahala na si batman," I said to myself.

My mother then let my grandma and her siblings stay in our house before she left. I was so happy at that time because "the more, the happier," they said, but for how long?

Suddenly COVID-19 happened. My mother couldn't provide us food any more because she couldn't work anymore. Who will feed us now? My stepfather can no longer work because of COVID, and my grandma and my uncles have lost their jobs. Then my mother decided to let us go to Leyte because my grandma's sister has a basakan there, but my stepfather and my siblings didn't come with us. I was sad because my siblings couldn't come with us.

The first 3 months in Leyte were nice. I was having a lot of fun feeding our goats, cows, chickens, and buffalos in there, but who would have thought that what I thought was fun turned out to be my nightmare? My mom's brother did something bad to me. I thought I could count on him, but why did he do that? We are family, right? Why did he do that? Even now, I still don't know the answer to those questions. After he did that, I told my mom right away, so she immediately sent me money so I could go here in Cebu. I thought my mother believed me, but when I got home, she scolded me.

"Pataka lang kag istorya about sa akoang igsoon ha! Pwede raman unta nga mo sulti ka nga gi laay naka didto sa leyte bantog ganahan naka mo uli sa cebu, nganong mag buhat buhat paman kag story para lang madaot akong igsoon!" I still remember what mom told me that night. I thought that she would comfort me. I just thought that.

I wish dad was here.

until now, I still carry the trauma I suffered there in Leyte. I can't sleep well either. I just pray for everything. I hope, One day, I will forget what I went through. I hope God will give me strength, and I hope that wherever my father is now, he is happy.

[imthefailedartist]

I'm five episodes deep into The Watcher it is white nonsense at its finest.

They have no money but have not made one frugal alteration to their lives. In fact they seem to be purposefully making it worse.

Spoilers

Is this all a dream? Because that's how this is feeling. The über weird neighbors. The fact that their house is so much bigger than everyone else's. Nora's wishy washy behavior. KAREN in total. The kids lack of going to school despite the fact that it is clearly fall. They have a sex life but suddenly they don't. The whole John Graff nee List plot. Ellie being dumb as hell. The son barely being a character outside of crying. Nora's a ceramist but we never see her making anything. The home reno going so quickly and smoothly. How long have they been in the house. Dean has a job but it's never clear what he does. The daughters a pianist but never plays and is instead swimming. Everyone keeps repeating phrases. They never go anywhere in town. We've never really seen the town. They lived in NYC for years where are their friends? Nora still has business & a show there she never checks on anything no one ever updates her. The chief or head detective & the PI both weird. The PI having such a convoluted story to how she became a PI. Everyone knows everything but everyone knows nothing. They spent all their money on the house yet have money for country clubs, private detectives, security systems, weeks long motel stays. The house address is 657 BOULEVARD is that the streets name Boulevard Blvd. St. Ln. Trl. Ave. What? Everything is linear but nonsensical like a dream.

I know multiple locations and characters is limited because of covid safety and budget restraints but a lot of this is feeling purposeful.

This whole show feels like one of those really intense hyperfocused scenes where a character is on the verge of a breakdown or just dropped acid and is trying to pretend they aren't tripping.

I think think the Watcher is Karen. I think 657 Boulevard was her house. She lost it when her husband left her. She used the divorce settlement to reinvent herself and get her realtors license. Now she's trying to buy the house, her dream house, back one commission at a time. With every scared seller the price gets lower and lower and she gets closer and closer. It explains why she's so passive aggressive about Nora's marriage. And insists on them selling. And keeps bringing up the Watcher and making it out to be way worse than some letters. It's probably something else but who knows?

It's probably not a dream or novel or story. And instead of a fun guessing game I probably just pointed out a bunch of plot holes. Oh well. Nothing is perfect as long as I had fun watching it I don't care.

Is Dakota one of the guys from Rae Shremmerd?

So I'm past episode 5 onto 6 and I was wrong. It's more normal than what I thought. It's just white people being white people and not minding they damn business. So truly the scariest thing of all the scary things.

Well this is hitting real close to home. I too have neighbors doing things I don't like to their homes. Two put up the world's ugliest and gaudiest fence. Another's fence is falling apart. Another has trash and uncut grass spilling from his back yard. One house removed the shrubbery from the front of house and made it look so plain and ugly. And I live in a normal suburb. I imagine I'd go insane if my house was worth a couple mill and my new neighbors were fucking up.

Also, I'm not selling my house. Keep watching Watcher because I'm gone do what I want in my house and you can suffer. $275,000 less from $3.5 M with improvements, I think the fuck not you trick ass bitch. We moving back in there letters and all.

Is this a dream? When the fuck did Maurice die? What is the timeline. So much time has passed and yet it feels like none has. Why is Karen so shady?

[asthmark]

❝ 10 things i know about you ❞ l.jn

synopsis → there are ten important things you learn about lee jeno during your time in quarantine.

request → “if you're still accepting requests, can u make a domestic roommate!jeno? 🥺🥺 thank you and have a nice dayyy”

word count → 7.1k (bruhhh)

sharing an apartment with lee jeno isn’t ideal.

it’s not that he’s a lousy roommate or that you disliked him in any way; you just didn’t know him. you had first met through a mutual friend. they knew jeno was looking for someone to split rent with and that you happened to need a place to stay. they promised you he would give you privacy and assured jeno you were excellent roommate material. with that, arrangements were made and soon enough you moved in together. of course, it was a bit awkward at first but you two eventually got used to each other’s presence. although you were never in the same room for too long and oftentimes went days without speaking, you coexisted.

for a long time, you only knew a couple things about your roommate. for example, you were aware of his strong love for cats, especially his pet calico, seol. you also knew he kept the freezer stocked with pizza rolls that he would use as energy when he stayed up all night playing video games.

what you didn’t know, however, was that you would be spending the next couple months locked in your apartment with him. on top of that, you would begin to learn more things about him—his life, his personality, his feelings.

there are ten important things you learn about lee jeno during your time in quarantine.

       1. he’s a heavy sleeper.

at 10:28 in the morning you find yourself seated at the dining table in the kitchen, spooning froot loops into your mouth. as you stuff your face, you scroll through your phone for entertainment. you decide to open instagram first but you quickly find that to be a mistake. as soon as you open the app a picture of lucas and who you thought was his ex-girlfriend greets you. if that was bad, the caption hits you like a ton of bricks.

@lucas_xx444: should have never left you

in only five words, lucas has completely erased the months you spent dating. it meant nothing to him. sure, things hadn’t ended things the best way but going right back to his toxic ex and even admitting to missing her—now that was a new low. was this his way of getting back at you? his way of making you hurt just like he had throughout your entire relationship? the thought alone leaves you feeling sick.

you decide you’ve already had enough social media for one morning so you decide to check your messages instead. your friends usually left a couple of them overnight. to your surprise, you find that your main group chat has accumulated 241 messages.

[10:48 am] you: good morning i see u guys have been vry chatty

[10:49 am] yeji: ur finally awake!

[10:50 am] yuna: we thought u died lol

[10:50 am] lia: YUNA

[10:50 am] lia: NO

[10:51 am] ryujin: the timing for that joke could not be worse

[10:52 am] yuna: humor is my coping mechanism leave me alone

[10:52 am] you: ??? what happened

[10:53 am] chaeryeong: we left msgs for a reason dummy read them!!

[10:53 am] you: umm there’s over 200 and im not abouta read all that

[10:54 am] yuna: well then lemme break it down

[10:54 am] yuna: the world is ending :)

[10:55 am] you: welp it was about time

[10:55 am] lia: why r u guys like this

[10:56 am] yeji: there’s been a covid-19 outbreak and it’s spreading like wildfire so the government issued a stay at home order :/

[10:57 am] you: omg WHAT

[10:57 am] ryujin: ikr it’s crazy we literally can’t go anywhere

[10:57 am] chaeryeong: and we can’t get boba today either ;( i was so looking forward to that

[10:58 am] ryujin: let’s pls take a moment of silence for all the current and future boba dates that will have to be cancelled

[10:59 am] yuna: no way am i gonna let some wannabe flu make me go boba-less i’m still going out >:(

[10:59 am] lia: ...ur joking right

[10:59 am] yeji: what color casket do u want yuna?

before the groupchat can distract you any further, you place your phone down on the table. you sit back in your chair and let the newly revealed information sink in.

you were stuck inside.

you sigh before standing to clean your dishes. as you’re scrubbing away at your bowl, you feel something brush against your leg. you smile, not even having to look down to know it was seol. the cat would often wander into your room or sleep next to you when you watched tv on the couch. in fact, you were pretty sure you spent more time with seol than his owner.

you gaze at jeno’s room. as always, the door is shut. you wonder if you should let him know what was happening. you two usually kept your distance but you figured that the circumstance you found yourself in was an exception. you quickly dry your hand and shuffle towards his room.

you knock once, quite softly. you assume he’s asleep so you try again, this time a little harder. still, no avail. the third time you put even more force into it. by this time, seol has found his way beside you and claws at the door.

“jeno?” you knock a fourth time. “jeno! lee jeno!”

after more shouting accompanied by incessant meowing, you hear some muffled movement. moments later the door knob twists open and there stands your roommate with disheveled hair and a robe that had obviously just been thrown on his body. seol has taken the open crack in the door as an invitation inside the bedroom.

jeno blinks a couple times as he watches the feline get himself comfortable on his bed. he turns back to you, looking slightly disoriented. you’re not sure if he’s half asleep or your sudden presence has thrown him for a loop. his voice comes out raspy when he asks, “was he, um, bothering you or something?”

you shake your head, vigorously. “that’s not why i came. it’s just that my friends told me that there’s been some kind of virus outbreak and we’re supposed to stay home. so, i thought i’d let you know.”

his face softens. “oh, cool.” suddenly, the look changes. “not the virus thing! that’s totally not cool. i meant, it’s cool that you let me know and stuff. you just saved me a huge freak out so, uh, thank you.”

you smile and nod. “no problem.”

jeno’s eyes linger as you retreat back into your room down the hall. the sound of his door shutting is heard only once you’re out of his eyesight.

   2.    he can cook better than you.

most of the time, you would go out to eat dinner with your friends in the evenings or at least stop by a drive thru. obviously, this was no longer possible in the midst of a pandemic. you found that to be incredibly frustrating as you sat on your bed, stomach empty. no matter how badly you wished to fix it, your laziness had gotten the best of you. apart from that, you already knew how unlucky you were when it came to cooking—the memory of burning noodles at lia’s house one night had been permanently seared into your brain.

you almost believe your mind is playing tricks on you when you catch a whiff of pasta in the air. for a moment you think it’s your next door neighbor, taeyong, cooking again. you knew he was quite the chef. but, the smell is getting stronger by the second and you decide it must be in your apartment.

you wander into the kitchen, only to find jeno standing over the stove. he’s stirring red sauce in a pot when he notices you watching him.

“oh, hey,” he greets with a polite wave.

you can only stare at the rest of the kitchen—pots, pans, and ingredients all over the place—in utter awe.

he chuckles, awkwardly. “yeah, sorry about the mess. i’ve been told i’m a decent cook but i can never seem to get the tidiness down.”  

“no, it’s not that. this just all seems so... professional.” you sniff the air once more. “smells amazing, too.”

he smiles, sheepishly. “thanks. are you a fan of spaghetti?”

you nod.

“good. i wanted to make something you’d like.”

“you really didn’t have to,” you say, leaning against the fridge. “i mean, i’ve never done anything for you.”

he uncovers a pot to check on the pasta. you watch as hot steam rises out of it. “what about this morning?”

you can’t help but laugh. “that most certainly does not count. you’re making an entire meal. that takes a lot of effort.”

he waves a hand, dismissively. “i used to cook a lot with my old roommate, doyoung. the guy was an asian gordon ramsey, i swear. so, yeah, this is nothing too crazy. and i really do enjoy it.”

“well, i’m still gonna repay you.” you fold your arms.

he looks away from his dish to raise a brow. “is that so?”

you nod in confirmation. “definitely.”

“tell you what, if you wash the mountain of dishes that are gonna be left over, we’ll be even.”

you stare at the sink that’s already overflowing with dirty kitchen tools. that wasn’t even half of it. “uh, sure, sounds good.”

he laughs at hearing the uncertainty in your voice. “that’s the spirit.”

   3.    he’s allergic to cats.

the familiar sound of soft purring is what pulls you attention away from the movie playing on your laptop. already knowing exactly who it is, you launch yourself off your bed to allow your furry guest inside.  

“hey seol. what’ve you been up to?”

the calico meows, almost as if he were responding to your question. you close your door and go back to your original position. you notice seol sitting directly in front of your bed, looking up at you with wide eyes.

“come on up.” you pat your sheets, invitingly.

he obeys and stretches before laying down beside you.

“have you ever watched ‘avengers’?” you ask, eyes going back to the explosive fight scene on the screen.

this time, seol doesn’t even bother humoring you with a meow. he stays silent with his head tucked into his paws.

you scratch his head and his tail wiggles. “i’ve gotta stop asking you questions.”

both you and seol’s heads snap towards the door when you hear a knock.

“come in!” you call out.  

jeno swings open the door. his eyes briefly scan the room before landing on the furball on your bed. the unmistakable look of adoration shines in his eyes when he sees how lovingly you caress him.

“seol! what are you doing in here? bothering y/n?” the cat jumps off your bed and towards his owner standing in your doorway. jeno scoops him into his arms and faces you. “i’m so sorry. he saw me running a bath for him and bolted.”

“it’s all good. he’s a great movie buddy. besides, i could always use the company.”

jeno curiously glances at your computer screen. “is that ‘avengers’?”

“yep. i’ve seen it like a dozen times.”

“same here.“ he pauses. “hey, if you ever need a movie buddy—like you know, one that talks—just let me know.”

your face lights up. “i’m gonna hold you to that.”

”i hope so. well, if you’ll excuse me, i’ve gotta give this guy a bath.”

seol yowls as if he understands the meaning behind the words and attempts to escape jeno’s grip.    

“here we go again,” he mumbles under his breath.

you snicker at the sight. “looks like you could use some help.”

“oh, no. it’s fine. he can just be a little bratty someti—seol!”

in the blink of an eye, the feline has successfully hopped out of his arms and made a run for it.

jeno gives you an exasperated look before rushing off to catch his runway pet. you find yourself caught up in the excitement so you follow him, the two of you now in pursuit of the calico. you’re sure the image of you both chasing the fluffy animal around the apartment looks like something straight out of a comedy. even you and jeno can’t contain your laughter when he finally catches seol only for him to slip out of his hold a second later. this exact situation repeats itself a couple times before you finally get lucky.

“i got him!” you screech. “jeno! oh my god! what do i do?”

“bathroom, bathroom, bathroom!” he chants in response.

you head in that direction with jeno trailing behind you, ready to catch seol if he somehow manages to get out of your death grip. you bend over the bathtub, slowly lowering the cat into the water. it’s clear he doesn’t have a problem with making a fuss as he wails and flails his limbs around.

after a while, he finally calms down enough that you can lather him in shampoo. jeno insists on scrubbing him, arguing that you had already done way too much. you sit back on your heels, observing the way the seol leans into his delicate touches.

“looks like he likes it now.”

“he likes to make a big deal but he ends up enjoying it every—“ jeno cuts himself off with a sneeze.

“tissue?” you offer.

he shakes his head. “that’s okay, thanks. i’m used to it. i’m just surprised my allergies haven’t acted up ‘til now.”

“allergies?” you echo.

“yeah, i’m allergic to—“ another sneeze. “cats.”

your eyes widen. “really? and you still have seol?”

“i could never get rid of him. he’s too good of a boy. isn’t—“ sneeze. “that right?” he tickles seol under his chin.

“wow. you must really love him.”

“so much.”

“he’s lucky to have you.”

“what about you? you get both of us. doesn’t that make you the luckiest?”

you snort. “i guess it does.”

   4.    he makes a good shopping buddy.

“i have officially cooked everything we have.”

“i can order some takeout, if you want?”

he juts his lower lip out and gives you puppy eyes. “but i like to cook for you.”

you laugh at his expression. “oh god, you look like that one pouty emoji people use when they try to be cute.”

he sits up. “did it work?”

you nod and pinch his cheek.

he yelps. “ah, stop! you’re acting like my grandma!” he manages to get out of your grasp. he rubs his face, soothing the spots you had squeezed. “seriously, though, we really do need to stock up on food.”

“i’ve already been looking into it.” you show him the screen of your phone. “says here you can still go shopping as long as you wear a mask and try to stay six feet away from other shoppers.”

he cringes. “i don’t know if i like the idea of being so close to so many people.”

“i can go by myself, then,” you suggest with a shrug.

he doesn’t hesitate to deny you. “no way are you going alone.” his possessive tone has you staring at him curiously so he adds, “you know, in case you can’t reach something on the top shelf.”

the teasing comment paired with his innocent smile makes you gasp in disbelief. “lee jeno! that’s low! and to think i almost thought you were worried about me.”

“who said i wasn’t?” he smiles at you again before standing up. “i’m going to find us some masks and then we can head out.”  

once you arrive at your local grocery store, you find it to be packed. everyone seems to be in a hurry, grabbing things left and right.

“wow, it’s already gotten crazy,” jeno mumbles, stopping to stare at the flood of people that rush by.

you don’t hesitate to scold him. “well, don’t just stand there! we gotta get our stuff before there’s nothing left!”

without another word you slip into the frenzy of people. jeno struggles to stay behind you. after almost losing sight of you a couple times, he walks a little faster to catch up and places his arm firmly around your waist once he does. you look up at him, your mask covering your slightly agape mouth.

being the gentleman he is, he apologizes. “sorry but i don’t want us to get separated.”

you can only nod and mumble, “good idea.”

jeno pushes the shopping cart with his right hand and holds your figure with his left. once in a while, you’ll break apart from each other to grab an item you need but once it’s in the cart, he’ll make sure you end up in the same position. after an hour or so, you’ve grabbed enough and you decide it’s time to pay.

despite the mask she has on, you can tell the middle-aged woman behind the cash register has a big smile on her face once she catches sight of you and your roommate.

“well, just look at you two.” she sighs. “how cute.”

“oh.” you glance at her then jeno then her again. “oh, no. it’s not like that.”

you attempt to move yourself away from jeno only to find his grip to be so incredibly strong that you almost begin to think he’s trying to hold you in place. once you finally detach yourself from him, you begin loading your groceries onto the counter for the employee to scan. she does so, but not before giving you a displeased look.  

“oh really? he holds you like that because you aren’t together?”

jeno assists her in placing the scanned items in bags. “i didn’t want to lose her.”

she pauses scanning a can of tuna to stare him down. “darling, that sounds like a line from a cheesy hallmark rom-com.”

you can’t help but chuckle. “what he means is that there’s a lot of people here and we didn’t want to get separated.”

jeno adds, “desperate times calls for desperate measures.”

the woman adjusts her glasses. “well, you do certainly seem desperate to have her close to you.”

jeno doesn’t say a word as he continues bagging but his smile reaches his eyes.

   5.    he works out.

why did the pandemic have to hit in the middle of summer?

you often asked yourself this, complaining about how inconvenient it was. especially on the days that made your apartment feel like it was on fire. the days that required a thin tank top and shorts. even then, you found yourself to be drenched in sweat.

you sprawled your arms and legs farther on the sofa, the leather material proving to be very uncomfortable. it was either that or your bed with the warm cotton sheets that stuck to your body. just thinking about it brings you discomfort. the only relief you could think of was a cold shower. you would have already taken one if jeno hadn’t been hogging the one bathroom in the apartment.

“jeno!” you yell.

silence; other than the sound of the water running.

“lee jeno!”

the water stops, temporarily for him to shout back an answer. “what?!”

you wipe at the sweat that has accumulated on the bridge of your nose. “hurry up! i’m melting!”

the water starts back up again and you groan. hoping to distract yourself, you pull out your phone. the group chat with your friends is surprisingly silent so you go to instagram for some entertainment. this time, your ex-boyfriend’s post isn’t the first thing you see. it takes you some scrolling but you do end up seeing another one of his pictures.

it’s simply two intertwined hands with a black and white filter. you identify the one on the left as his and although you aren’t as familiar with the one on the right, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out who it belongs to. contrary to the last, this photo has no cheesy words for a caption, just a red heart.  

but, your stomach doesn’t drop. you don’t feel hurt, either. obviously, you still don’t enjoy seeing him just because of all the awful memories that came with it but other than that, you feel unaffected by the image.

in fact, you feel so confident in yourself that you block him.

you’re surprised you hadn’t done it sooner. you had known you didn’t need him in your life any longer so why keep in contact? you feel like a huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders when you press the red button that would keep him and his girlfriend out of your life. you knew with your whole heart that you didn’t need to see either of them.

before, a bit if you had felt the need to keep an eye on him. to see how he was handling the breakup and torture yourself with the fact that he didn’t seem to care. now, you could say you truly didn’t either. you didn’t need him or his stupid pictures. you had other, better things.

your friends.

your cat (yes, you considered seol to be yours).

your roommate.

you had to admit, jeno was the best thing on that list. quarantine had brought you and him significantly closer and you were over the moon about it. he was so wonderful that you kicked yourself for having lived with him for so long without ever really getting to know him. but it was easy to say you two were making up for lost time seeing as you spent every waking moment together. the record long showers jeno took being an exception, of course.

the moment the door to the bathroom opens, you rush into your room and quickly grab an oversized t-shirt and loose pajama pants to change into after your shower. you nearly drop them when you’re met with jeno’s soaking figure in the hallway.

his hair is damp and you can clearly see how long it had become. his skin looks healthy and moisturized, lotion among other skin care products had probably been applied. what really has you in a shock is the fact that the towel barely hangs below his waist. the droplets of water that fall from his hair and down his neck trail down his chest and toned torso towards the only area he has bothered to cover up. his bulky arms are also slightly wet, his veins popping noticeably. he shakes his head in an attempt to rid his hair of any water. then he runs his fingers through it, his muscles flexing ever so slightly as he does so.

“dude!” you exclaim, without a second thought. “you’re ripped!”

he smiles, his round cheeks growing at the unexpected praise. the way he could have such a rugged body but soft-featured face puzzled you to no extent. “thank you. i lift sometimes.”

“sometimes?” you repeat. “don’t be so humble! you’re basically hercules!”

he clicks his tongue. “ah, c’mon. i’m just an athletic person.”

you keep admiring his physique. “clearly.”

“oh god,” he groans, obviously flustered. “you’re looking at me like you’re gonna eat me or something.”

you hold yourself back from making a less than appropriate innuendo. “no comment.”

his eyebrows shoot up in disbelief. “quarantine is really making you go crazy.”

you point a finger at him. “you try being stuck inside with your hot roommate!”

“trust me, y/n, i know all about hot roommates.”

you tilt your head, acting purposefully oblivious. “are you talking about doyoung?”

“what? no i—“ he sighs. “you know what, just take your shower.”

   6.    you can’t say no to him.

jeno ruffles his black locks with his hand and frowns.

you give him a disappointed look. “knock it off, you’re gonna get dandruff in your soup.”

he ignores your comment. “i look like a hobo.”

you pause, spoon halfway to your mouth. “this i know.”

“y/n, this is serious!”

“okay, okay. what’s the issue?”

“i already told you! i’m a bum!”

“you? a bum?” you pause to think about it. “i mean, mentally? maybe. but physically? no.”

“my hair, though. it’s so long.” he grabs a strand of it and pulls it to emphasize his point.

you shrug. “if having lots of hair is the standard for being a bum, i think most of the population is.”

“i want to cut it,” he announces.

“you should,” you say, pointing your spoon at him. “wanna know why? because if you mess up, no one will ever know. other than me, of course. but if you pay me enough i’ll let you forget it.”

he smiles at the joke for a moment before he leans forward and his face goes serious. “will you help me?”

“what? no way. i’ll mess up. and it’s only funny if you do it.”

he pouts. “please?”

you stir your soup around. “just watch some youtube videos. after three, you’re automatically a professional.”

“i want you.”

the statement has your neck snapping up from your bowl to him. the smug grin on his face lets you know that he was well aware of the double meaning behind his words. it was clear he was trying to fluster you enough to get a yes.

“you think you’re flirty enough to straight up brainwash me into doing stuff?”

“well, i wanted to say that to you anyway but... kind of?”

you feel a smile creep onto your lips at hearing the genuine tone in his voice. you down your last few spoonfuls of soup and quickly stand up. jeno looks up at you, eyes hopeful.

“finish your dinner. get the scissors. meet me in the bathroom.”

not even ten minutes later, jeno practically dances into the bathroom, a pair of red craft scissors in his hand. he sits on top of the toilet lid, figuring that’d be the easiest way for you to reach him. you walk in moments later.

“i’m pretty sure we’re not supposed to be using these types of scissors for hair,” he mumbles as he hands you the sharp utensil.

you twirl them in your hand. “oh, definitely not. do you want to wait then?”

he shakes his head, his shaggy bangs swaying with the movement.  

“alright, let’s get this going then.” you thread your hands through his thick locks to collect some of it in between two of your fingers. you bring the scissors forward and snip the small amount just to test the waters.

you slowly begin to get more comfortable and once you feel like you’re in your element, things begin to speed up. you move and cut faster but with efficiency. you do the spots on the back of his head and work your way forward. when it finally comes time to touch up his bangs, your small bathroom proves to be an inadequate spot to be doing this.

you end up standing balanced inches above jeno’s thighs that he’s pressed together tightly in an attempt to give you more room. you’re constantly readjusting your stance and when he notices, his hands go to your hips. you know he’s just trying to help you stay upright so you do a decent job but you still inhale sharply at the feeling of his hands on you.

not long after, you’re standing next to jeno as he inspects himself in the mirror. his fingers flick his newly shortened bangs around.

“not bad.” he tilts his head in a new angle and nods. “looks super good to me.”

you tuck the scissors into your back pocket with a relieved sigh. “oh thank god. i didn’t want to tell you before we started but i only watched two youtube tutorials on trimming hair.”

he runs a hand through his hair with a chuckle. “now that’s truly worthy of praise. and a tip.”

you raise a brow. “oh yeah? what’s th—“

he cuts you off by pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. he pulls back and drags his thumb over the skin that has come into contact with his lips. “thanks again.” with that, he leaves you standing in the bathroom, eyes wide and face warm.

   7.    he has six best friends.

“can i borrow your laptop?” asks jeno, from outside your door, nearly breathless.

you look up from your book. “uh yeah, sure.”

he rushes in your room and takes the item off of your dresser. “do you happen to have zoom on it?”

you shake your head and he groans. without another word, he disappears, running off into the living room. you hear his frustrated sighs as the minutes pass and he attempts to download the application. you finally decide to go check it out once it becomes too much to bear.

“it sounds like you’re in pain over here,” you comment.

he runs a hand through his hair. “i’m supposed to meet with my friends through a zoom call but it’s so complicated.”

you put a hand on your hip. “bet you five bucks i’ll be able to get it in five minutes.”

“are you kidding? i might be technologically challenged but i’m not stupid. i know you can do it fast, just help me out already, would you?”

“alright, grandpa.”

you type and click away at the screen, jeno watching you do so, entranced but equally as lost.

“well, i was wrong,” you say after a couple moments, leaning back in your chair.

“you couldn’t get it?” asks jeno, worriedly.

“no, it’s not that.” you click something on the screen and the app opens. “turns out i could do it in three.”

he rolls his eyes and shoos you out of the chair. he sits down and enters the code and password for the zoom meeting. it takes a minute, but he finally connects. you count six other people in the call. they all immediately cheer at seeing jeno and you hear them excitedly exclaim his name.

“hey guys,” he says, a smile already reaching his eyes. “it’s so good to see your faces.”

they all nod to agree. you get a good look at each one of them and realize they’re all boys. your eyes read over each of their display names.

mark me in ur heart

hyuckie~~~

moomin enthusiast

nananananana

chnele

lil huddy

“nice name, jeno,” ‘moomin enthusiast’ guy comments, snickering slightly. “glad to see you finally came to terms with it.”

‘jenojam’, his name reads. the rest of the group laughs, also teasing him about it. you assume it’s some kind of inside joke.

the self proclaimed ‘lil huddy’ furrows his eyebrows. “wait, did you choose that name yourself?”

jeno simply nods in response.

he glares into the camera. “donghyuck, you told me i had to put this as my name or else it wouldn’t let me connect!”

donghyuck—or ‘hyuckie~~~’, you presume—shrugs. “oops. guess i was wrong.”

you laugh at the humorous exchange. it seems like the sound has drawn some attention to you when ‘nananananana’ speaks up, eyes trained on you.

“um jeno? don’t you want to introduce your guest?”

jeno beams, dragging you closer into the frame. “i’m sure you all know about my roommate. say hi, y/n.” 

you do so, waving and smiling politely at the group.

“you know, even though we used to always hang at jeno’s, i don’t think we’ve ever actually seen your face,” ‘chnele’ says, tilting his head.

you agree. ��me neither. i’ve mostly just heard you guys.”

the ‘mark me in your heart’ boy sheepishly rubs his neck. “sorry. we tend to be a little loud.”

‘chnele’ lets out a high pitched screech of a laugh. “only a little?”

“i recognize that laugh!” you blurt. “i would hear it all the time!”

”that’s our little dolphin,” coos ‘hyuckie~~~’.

“oh god, stop. i hate that stupid nickname.”

“it’s well deserved.”

“i think you should apologize to y/n for being a nightmare to her eardrums.”

“and ours, for that matter.”

“what about all your little freestyles? i’ve had to sit through hundreds of them and i never got an apology!”

“because they’re not bad! could you do any better?”

“you’re a soundcloud rapper, i think anyone could.”

jeno turns to you as the bickering on screen gets louder and louder. “this is gonna be a long call.”

once the group has moved on from roasting the life out of each other, you’re able to engage in some good-natured conversation. jeno teaches you the names and the other basics about the group. some points that stand out about the group is that mark is the oldest, renjun specializes in contemporary dance, jaemin inhales six cups of coffee on the daily, and chenle is insanely rich.

“what about jeno?” you ask them. “anything i should know about him?”

“he’s allergic to cats but the idiot still adopted—“

“she already knows about that, renjun,” jeno chuckles.

“oh. well. that’s pretty much the only interesting thing about him.”

jisung pipes up. “oh wait! he works out religiously too!”

you and jeno share a look. you burst into laughter and he simply glances away, slightly embarrassed. “oh yeah, i know that all too well.”

“and what about the unhealthy cooking obsession?”

you nod at mark’s question. “that too. he cooks dinner almost every night around here.”

renjun purses his lips. “he already cooks for you? wow. he must really like you.”

“you think?” jaemin asks. “didn’t you read any of the messages in the group chat? he’s practically in love with her. his words, not mi—“

“okay! i think it’s time for us to go! bye guys!” jeno doesn’t even give you a chance to say your own goodbye before he’s clicking the ‘end call’ button in the bottom right corner.

you give him a confused look. “what was that all about?”

“they’re crazy.” he laughs. “well, if you need me i’ll be in my room screaming into my pillow for the next couple hours.” he dashes off leaving you standing alone, trying to comprehend what had happened.

   8.    he‘s a great listener.

jeno has officially replaced seol as your movie buddy, not that you have a problem with it. you thought it was nice to have someone you could actually converse with but of course, you make sure seol still sits in.

“what i’m saying is that iron man just wants to protect his team.”

“well, if they sign the accords, they basically surrender themselves to the government.”

“and?”

“you don’t see a problem with that? see, captain america knows what he’s doing. he’s literally an avenger—“

“so is iron man!”

“let me finish! so, he’s an avenger, right? he has the best judgment because he’s saved the world countless times. he knows how to operate his team and do the right thing.”

“okay but there’s casualties. and that’s what iron man is trying to fix.”

“how do you save the world and not have casualties?”

“you just—“ your phone rings mid argument and you raise your finger towards jeno. “this isn’t over.” you put the phone to your ear, not bothering to check the caller id. “hello?”

“sweetheart?”

you feel a chill go up your spine. was it him? no, it couldn’t be. you had blocked his number shortly after you did so on all your social media.

“baby, don’t be so shy. i know you’re there.”

you can’t hold back. “please don’t call me that.”

he chuckles, breathlessly. “oh, c’mon. you used to love it. you still do.”

“no, i don’t. actually, i don’t want to hear your stupid pet names or stupid voice or see any of your stupid posts. just go bother your girlfriend and leave me alone.”

you notice jeno perk up beside you out of the corner of your eye. he must have been caught off guard by your irritated tone.

as always, lucas is unaffected by you. “i’m being nice and giving you a second chance. i even called you behind soyeon’s back.”

“is that something i’m supposed to reward you for?” you scoff. “congratulations, you’re now awful, toxic, and a cheater.”

he growls. the sound was familiar. in your relationship, if you heard it you knew he was going to snap at you until he had the satisfaction of making you cry. “i know you miss me so don’t say things you’re going to regret later. because even when you’re back in my arms, i won’t let you forget it.”

the thought of being back with him made you feel icky. but the fact that he sincerely thought you would crawl back to him set your entire body on fire. “are you joking? i was always aware of the fact that you treated me like the dirt you walked on but do you seriously think that lowly of me?”

you’re rendered speechless and apparently, so is he because the other line stays silent.

“i wouldn’t go back to you if you were the last person on earth,” you spit. “you treated me horribly, wong yukhei. i won’t ever forget it. move on. i have.”

you glance at jeno, his expression more serious than you’ve ever seen it. his eyebrows are furrowed and his eyes are trained on your cellphone. the glare he gives the device is so strong you wouldn’t be surprised if even lucas could feel it, wherever he was.

you hang up and block the number, wishing to never talk to him again. you toss your phone onto the sofa with an exasperated sigh. you find jeno’s gaze to still be focused intensely on it.  

“if you gave lucas that look, i’m pretty sure he’d cry.”

he breaks his concentration, eyes going to you instead. his entire face softens. “all i’m going to say is he better pray we never cross paths.”

“well, if you happen to, call me up. i wouldn’t mind helping you beat the crap out of him.”

jeno chuckles for a second then lowers his voice to a whisper. “he was really bad to you, huh?”

you nod. “he messed me up. i hate to admit it ‘cause i know i was stupid to stay with him for as long as i did.”

your roommate shakes his head. “don’t say that. it’s not your fault he messed up the best thing that would ever happen to him.”

“i thought i was the problem for so long, jeno. i was so blinded by love. then, i realized there was no way he truly cared for me when he treated me like i had no heart to be broken.”

jeno scoots towards you and rubs soothing circles into your arm. “you have such a big heart. and i can’t tell you how sorry i am that he took advantage of that. i’m sorry that you were stuck with someone so insecure and ignorant. please, don’t think about him anymore.”

you hold in your tears. you refused to cry over someone like lucas. “i know. i try so hard not to.”

jeno holds your head into his chest. his arms are placed securely on your back. “oh, baby.”

when jeno uses this pet name on you, it feels so completely different from lucas. you could tell me meant it. he wasn’t using it to make you stay a little longer, to assure you he loved you. strangely enough, you do not need to be convinced of that. you feel like you have known it for a long time.  

   9.    he likes to be the big spoon.

you’re not sure how he’s done it but you end up falling asleep in jeno’s arms. you assume it had been so long since you had been cradled and rocked so delicately that the foreign yet extremely delightful sensation knocked you right out. even seol is deep in sleep, laying down peacefully at your feet.  

you relish in the feeling of jeno pressed right into your back. he fits so perfectly against you that it reminds you of a puzzle piece. to be exact, the moment when you connect the last two pieces and the full picture becomes complete. that was how you felt—complete.

with jeno’s soft breaths tickling the back of your neck and his soft snores filling your ear, you know there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. his arm that is wrapped around you makes sure you can’t escape his embrace. you are positive that even if you had the liberty of doing so, you would stay exactly where you were.

you lean farther back into your pillow, closing your eyes. you let every thought fade away as you try to fall back asleep as soon as possible. you wanted the moment you found yourself in to last as long as possible.

   10.    he has feelings for you.

jeno mumbles sweet nothings into your ear as he toys with your hair.

it just seemed right to him. like something he was meant to do with you. he had seen these types of things in films and shows before. it was intimate and touching, the scenes were always meant to tug at the audience’s heart strings and show how in love the two characters were. perhaps, even though you lay asleep in his arms, he wants you to finally know.

“honestly, being inside with you all the time is kind of the best. i know the whole virus situation is less than ideal but being able to spend so much time with you... that’s all i could ask for.” he pauses. “isn’t it so crazy how before this we were all weird and awkward around each other? well, i guess we still kind of are. that’s mostly my fault so... sorry. i just don’t know how to act around you sometimes. we’re barely getting close and i’m already this attached to you. as jisung would so kindly say, ‘i’m simping’.” he chuckles to himself. “all jokes aside, i really do like you. ever since you moved in here all cute and nervous, you’ve taken your own little place in my heart, as cheesy as it sounds. and these past few weeks, you just keep on taking up more and more room in there. not that i have a problem with it. i just...” he stops as if he doesn’t know how else to express his feelings. “really, really like you.”

“thanks.”

you feel him jolt then abruptly stop stroking your hair. there’s silence until he asks, “you don’t happen to be a sleep talker, do you?”

you shake your head.

“and did you hear like, a lot of what i said?”

“only the important stuff. like how awkward you are and how much you like me.”

“o-oh.”

“but don’t worry. it’s mutual.”

you feel his relieved breath hit the skin of your neck. “that’s the best thing i’ve heard all day.”

you tilt your head back and stare at him, confused. “what, did you seriously think i wasn’t into you?”

he shrugs. “i was too busy simping, i guess.”

you can’t contain your laughter at the use of the slang. “park jisung would not be proud.”   

[letarasstuff]

After a life long Quarantine

(A/N): This was requested by an anon. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing

Summary: How will Matthew's daughter, a so called covid baby, react to seeing real humans aside from her father for the first time?

Wordcount: 1.5k

✨Masterlist✨

_______________________________

Of course there is not a perfect time to have children. You never are going to be completely prepared. There is always something you’ll worry about. Are you going to be a good parent? Is your child going to be healthy? Are you financially stable enough?

All these and more questions flew through Matthew’s head constantly. But before the baby was due to arrive, the world got a little bit more crazy. Stores had to close, masks help you not kill your neighbor and it feels like breathing air could be the reason you die within the next two weeks. In other words: Covid-19 hit and everything kind of went into saving mode.

Subjectively for Matthew having a baby in the middle of a pandemic is the worst time ever. Shortly after going into lockdown the little (Y/N) was born. He was lucky to be able to come with his back then girlfriend into the hospital, he narrowly missed the restriction.

Sadly for the small family (Y/N)’s mother didn’t feel ready to take care of her and just a few weeks after her birth she took her stuff and made a beeline for a carefree life without responsibilities.

For Matthew it was a banger and he had to get used to a completely new day to day life. Still, he is very happy to have his daughter, his sunshine, with him. And secretly he is happy about the pandemic, because the freshly baked father is able to monitor any new progress or milestone (Y/N) has made in her development. He didn’t miss her first conscious smile, laugh or her first words (“Dada” of course, she is a daddy’s girl). The only thing he is concerned about for now will be the separation anxiety when he has to leave her for Kindergarten or work. But this is something Matthew can worry about later.

To be perfectly honest the only surroundings (Y/N) has seen yet is their apartment and the park. He tries to overlap her nap time with his grocery runs, so his daughter is asleep in her stroller while he picks up the things they need. It’s the easiest and most relaxing way without being separated.

Now, nearly a year after her birth, the whole situation slowly lets up. Stores reopen, people are back in the cities and everything seems a little brighter, a little happier. Travel restrictions are banned (still with safety precautions).

Since his baby’s birth he wasn’t able to see his parents in person. Of course they skyped and facetimes as often as possible, but they have yet to meet their grandchild. That’s why Matthew decided to take a roadtrip from New York City to Las Vegas.

His plan is to drive to Texas to visit Thomas and his family and to show his own child off. He knows that the car ride (to San Antonio 27 hours plus 18 to Las Vegas) is long. Luckily Matthew has enough time to plan this road trip and the plane ride back thoroughly and count enough breaks for him and his daughter. There are many fun activities, like visiting several zoos, a waterpark and a fair for example. He wants to show (Y/N) that there are many beautiful spots in the world she has yet to see.

That’s why he gets up at 4 a.m on a Tuesday, gets her and himself ready and is in the rental car at sharp 5 a.m. He wants to get a few miles done before eating lunch in a diner or something on the way, so the father tries to avoid traffic jams, hence the early start.

Luckily (Y/N) falls back asleep as soon as the car starts and doesn’t wake up before noon. “Daddy, I hungwy”, she pouts after jamming with him to several Disney songs he downloaded on a CD. A quick look to the clock confirms that it is in fact time for lunch. “Alright Baby, let Daddy find a nice place and we get food. What do you want?” “NUGGIES!” Matthew laughs and mutters to himself: “Well, that’s not exactly a surprise.”

Soon he finds a sweet diner off the highway and parks in front of it. With a few practised movements he gets (Y/N) out of her car seat and hoisted up on his hip. “You ready to get the little monster inside your tummy fed?” Matthew asks in a silly voice. Giggling she nods her head.

For lunch time the diner is relatively empty, not many tables are occupied. He finds both of them a small booth and sits her down on his lap for the moment. Only now the father spots the amazed look on his daughter’s face. “What is it, Honey?” “Who they?” She points at the various people in the establishment.

Quickly he puts her finger down, muttering how rude it is to point at someone. “They are humans, Baby.” “Omans? Wike us? More us?” Suddenly it hits him:

(Y/N) has never seen anybody else than him. All the other people she met were over the phone. How is she supposed to understand that they are real, too, when the ones on the TV aren’t?

“Yeah, there are many more. We are going to see so many of them. What do you think?” She seems to weigh her options as a nice looking waitress comes up to their table. “Hey Sweeties, what good can I do for you two? Do you need a high chair?” Matthew smiles at her. “Yes, please. We also are ready to order.”

After her departure to get their things, (Y/N) has come to a decision. “Nice all?” Her father nods. “Yes, most of them are as nice as the lady. We are going to see a really good friend of mine and his family, they are even nicer. There are also other kids. And we are going to visit your grandparents, they are also really nice. Are you excited?” An energetic nod is enough for him to know that this was the right decision.

On the next leg of the road trip (Y/N) is too excited to be quiet. She asks her father all sorts of questions. Has he met every human being? What are those, who aren’t nice? Does he like all of them? Are he and she nice people?

Happily he answers every single one of them, being as honest as possible. Matthew hopes that his daughter still turns out to be a people person like he is, even though she wasn’t exposed to many in her first months of life.

The first few days of their trip is pretty promising. They are now at Thomas’ house and especially Agatha is smitten by the little girl. Whenever Matthew is looking for her, both of them are in her room painting each other's nails (though the older one helps her out), playing hairdresser or watching a kids show.

The last 18 hours of the trip are tackled in two days. The main reason is that the little one got hooked on meeting new people and is way too hyped up to wait any longer to see her grandparents. So Matthew cancels a few plans and makes two out of three, he himself is also excited to meet up with his parents again.

“How wong?” (Y/N) asks from the backseat for what feels like the trillionth time. She already watched all of her favorite movies on her little tv in the headrest and due to the uneven street coloring isn’t an option. Luckily the destination is in sight. “Mhh, I think we are there in five minutes.” Children her age don’t have a sense for time yet, he knows that. Still, the father feels bad lying to her.

Finally they pull into the driveway, two people already waiting outside for them. After getting her out Matthew puts (Y/N) on his hip and makes his way over to his parents. “Baby, these are your grandma and grandpa. Can you say hello to them?”

But she tries to wiggle out of his grip, making the smiles on everybody’s faces fall. The father sets her down. Clumsily (Y/N) toddles over to them, colliding with her grandfather’s leg. “Hello, I love you!” She looks up at them sweetly. Her grandma has to restrain herself from letting the tears of happiness fall down.

“Hello there, Baby. We are so happy to finally meet you!” She says to the toddler, who now is in her grandfather’s arms.

It’s in this moment that Matthew decides his daughter is in fact a people person, which he is kind of relieved about, knowing that quarantine hasn’t taken anything from her.

His father shows him to join the group hug, being finally reunited as a family after all this time.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse

MGG:

@mggsprettygirl

[lokilickedme]

Somebody help me chill, this is insane.

(under the cut because long and also pretty traumatic, for me at least)

Crazy neighbor, remember her?  Her son destroyed a piece of equipment we had attached to one of our trees at the fenceline last week, she denied it and called us insane liars - that’s the most recent craziness in the ongoing saga of the neighbor from hell.  I was sitting here reading my dash tonight and happened to glance over at the monitor for the surveillance camera husband got me the other day to watch that exact spot (where the equipment was smashed) and guess who I see bent over looking through the fence peering very closely at that exact spot?  Neighbor’s equally insane son, who we know did the actual dirty work.  And I, stupid like I am, took a screenshot of him and then immediately jumped up and ran outside in the dark in my pajamas (nearly 9pm, pitch black, their porch light is off because obviously they’re doing something they don’t want to be seen doing) and I ask “Excuse me, what are you doing?”

This lunatic immediately starts SCREAMING at me - I mean top of his lungs SCREAMING abusive threats, calling me a stupid psycho whore bitch, yelling at me to get my ass back in my house and generally just acting completely off his rocker unhinged nuts - and then his mother comes out and comes over to the fence and gets in my face while I’m just standing there and tells me to mind my own business.  I say I am minding my business, I saw him looking through the fence at my property right where we had vandalism happen last week so I came out to find out why he’s interested in my property.  She laughed in my face and said “No he wasn’t, he was standing right here looking at his phone like this” and she does this little pantomine of someone looking at their phone, which is funny because she wasn’t out there when he was doing it and there are no windows on that side of her house at all.  I ignored her and asked “What are you looking for?”  He kept screaming incoherent animal noises and insults from behind her so I asked again, “What are you looking for?”  And that crazy woman grinned at me and said “We’re just looking to see what kind of new devices you’ve installed!”

OMG.  She didn’t even take a breath in between lying and then contradicting her own lie.  And she’s grinning smugly at me the entire time, gesturing around pointing at our property cams and mosquito light (it flashes and apparently she thinks it’s watching her) and my bedroom window - which means she’s been snooping.  There is a cam sitting in my windowsill, aimed at the spot where the device was smashed.  Every bit of this equipment is on our property, some of it behind a privacy fence.  I tell her it’s none of her business what kind of devices we’ve got on our property, but she just yammers over me, and of course numbskull is still ranting like a psycho behind her, screaming at me to mind my own business and get back in my house and leave them alone.  At this point he’s pulled out his phone and shoved it over her shoulder toward my face and is recording me, which is just...fucking hilarious...because I’m literally doing nothing but standing there in shock and awe at how nuts these people are, and he’s still screaming abusive curses and names at me while he’s recording.

Anyway, for about 4.5 minutes we stood there with them shouting over me (I know the exact time because it was later discovered that our doorbell cam recorded audio of the entire event) and a little ways into it he screams “I WILL TEAR YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF!!”

At this point psycho woman finally turns around and says “Addison Case!” and pushes him back.  He lunges at me and she tells him to go call the police (??what??  I mean...I wish he had...my phone was in my hand frozen solid, locked up because of the glitchy surveillance app I had to install to see the camera, or else I would have called them myself - but my god they really thought I was the one the cops needed to come for??).  Meanwhile I’m just standing there on my own property in the dark in my pajamas, all 5 feet and 120 lbs of me, while this rabid animal - he’s a 21 year old college boy - is lunging at me and screaming nonstop, calling me a fucking whore bitch loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear it while his phone’s camera light is in my face blinding me.  Crazy lady smiles that smug shit eating grin of hers and tells me to get back in my house, leave her alone, and move the hell away so she can live in peace.

Wow.  Just...holy shit.

This is the person who has allowed her dog to attack my very small 8 year old son on our property and send him to the hospital with injuries last year, then attempt to attack him again 2 weeks ago (he is now 9 at the time of the second attack) - again on our own property (in our back yard this time, in our front yard the first time), has allowed her dogs (multiple) to bark all night long and keep us awake (she leaves them outside and then goes away for the weekend and they bark the entire time she’s gone), then she had her crazy violent son destroy the BarkBox we put in our tree on our side of the fence last week (we put it up as a humane way to get the barking to stop without having to listen to her call us insane liars every time we complain about it).  Yet...she kept repeating over and over and over for us to leave her alone and stop harassing her.

All I could even do was stand there shaking my head.  It was surreal.  And frustrating, because they wouldn’t even let me get a word out without screaming over me, and she was doing that infuriating Karen thing where they shove their hand at your face and grin smugly while they’re telling you what you better do or they’ll call someone to make you.

I actually started laughing, it was so ludicrous.  She’s committed all those vile offenses against us and we’re the ones that need to leave her alone.  We’ve had to file four police reports against her and we’re the ones that are making her life miserable.  I just can’t stop thinking about that Liar Liar movie where the repeat offender keeps calling his lawyer to complain that the cops won’t stop arresting him and the lawyer finally yells THEN STOP BREAKING THE LAW ASSHOLE!!

It’s just like that.  My god.

SO -

She tells him to call the police again, and this limp dick shoves that phone light right up to my face and says “You think she’s worth calling the cops over?  Look at her, she don’t look worth it to me.”  And bitch starts laughing.  My god, these people are subhuman, I swear.  I’ve never seen anyone act like this in my life, over a person doing literally nothing to them.

So she finally orders her rabid son (who is just about foaming at the mouth, I swear he’s making these barking animal noises at me, it’s weird as hell) into the house and they walk away, with him still ranting like a madman until the door closes behind them.  I immediately go inside my own house and call my husband, who was way out at the back of our property in our camper (he self quarantines each day after work out there to protect us because there have been a lot of covid cases at his workplace) and he didn’t know anything was happening.  He immediately runs up to the house and I tell him I caught neighbor’s thug son messing around at our fence and that when I went out he threatened to kill me.

Tom grabs something - I don’t even know what it was, I think it was this piece of board that was sitting by the door, we’ve done a shelving project recently and a couple of leftover pieces have been there for a few days - and he stalks outside toward neighbor’s house.  I hear him yell COME OUT HERE BOY!!! and I stg you guys, if I wasn’t on the phone calling 911 I might have thought about getting naked right there and then because damn.

So anyway, let’s not go there.  This is serious by god lol (look for this to show up in a fic soon though because material like this doesn’t get handed to you for free every day).

I call 911 and say the neighbor’s son just threatened my life and for them to come quick because he’s still over there but I know he’s going to leave any second (this is his mom’s M.O, the two times the police have tried to go talk to her she gets in her car and leaves before they can get from my house to hers, and I know he’ll do the same because COWARDS).  Tom comes back and says the little pussywillow wouldn’t come out of the house.  He’s breathing fire, you guys.  Pure fucking fire.  I tell 911 to get somebody out quick before the kid leaves, and just about 2 minutes after I hang up he does just that - we see him blast past our house in his truck and he’s gone, and then the police arrive about 3 minutes after.  I’m so mad I can’t see straight.  If they’d been able to see him in the state he was in, they’d have arrested him on sight.

Two squad cars (big SUV’s) pull up and block her driveway with full lights flashing, which makes me laugh because suddenly we’ve got neighbors coming outside to see what’s going on.  I meet the officers outside, and the crazy bitch next door does the same, yelling “Hello Officer!” and waving to them as they’re coming up to my porch.

They talk to me and Tom for a long time, I tell them everything that happened, they interview Big (he and Little were inside the open door and heard it all), we fill out our statements and talk with them more until one officer goes next door to talk to neighbor.  We can hear her dripping her fake sugar and spice while they’re talking on her porch and my husband loses his shit - he heads toward her house and yells “We got the entire thing on recording, don’t even try to lie!  Your kid, threatening to kill my wife?!?”  (he’s referring to the camera in my bedroom window, which actually only recorded about 2 minutes because I don’t have it set up correctly yet, but they don’t know that). The officer yells at him to get back, which, yeah - he shouldn’t have done that, but for god’s sake the woman’s peckerhead son just literally threatened murder on a member of his family, this is the final fucking straw and he’s mad.  And as he’s coming back across the yard the officer that stayed with me points at our new doorbell camera, just freshly installed as of about two weeks ago, and asks if it’s on.  We haven’t even really figured out how to use it yet, but yes, as far as we know it’s on.  The incident happened around the side of the house, but the doorbell records audio.

God bless technology.

I invite the officer inside the house and Tom gets his phone, pulls up the app for the doorbell, and starts skipping through the recording looking for the right timestamp.  Up till this point all they have is me saying the guy screamed a lot of abusive profanities at me and threatened to tear my head off, and they’re taking me serious but probably not that serious, you know?  Neighbors fight all the time, wars start over barking dogs, things get exaggerated, we’ve all seen the TV dramas.

Until Tom finds the segment on the footage and starts playing it to them on his phone.  It’s kind of quiet because we were a good distance away, but you can hear the guy screaming just like I said he was.  The officer asks if we have a speaker we can play it through so he can hear the words more clearly, because he needs proof of threat and that’s entirely in the words.

You guys, I’m tellin’ ya, sometimes you get a chance to fucking SHINE.  My husband is a musician and this cop is asking him if he’s got a good speaker.  So within minutes Tom’s got this huge venue-style amplifier designed for broadcasting music to the back wall of a freaking stadium pulled out into the livingroom and he’s hooking his phone up to it, and then he hits play and the other officer comes back from next door to join us and I can tell by the annoyed look on his face that neighbor bitch has likely charmed him and shed a plethora of persecuted tears and spewed her lies about how we’ve been harassing her forEVER and I think for a second that it’s a total loss now, he’s made his mind up in her favor.

And then...away we go.  Tom cranks the volume on the speaker and they both lean in to listen closely.

Just about a minute into the recording they have their proof - thugnuts screaming I WILL TEAR YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF!!!

Both officers nod, close their notebooks, and the second officer makes a phonecall while the first one turns to me and says “That’s terroristic threatening and it’s a class C felony.  You’re going to need to go to the PA’s office with all the reports you’ve filed against them so far and all your evidence from tonight including that recording and hand it all to them.  They’re likely going to issue a no-contact so that he can’t interact with you ever again.”

This is a victory, but it’s just the first step, and I feel sickeningly disheartened that it’s all in my lap to do everything.  I want them to go demand his whereabouts from his mother and just go get his ass and haul him in.  But no, I have a ton of legwork to do now because these horrible people won’t fucking stop.

After several more minutes of me asking questions about what exactly we need to do and where we need to go, etc etc (I’m competent but I’m also fucking rattled, someone threatened to kill me tonight and I’m blanking hard on the instructions he’s giving me) they finally wrap it up and leave.  They’ve been in my house for a half hour waiting for me to finish filling out the report (I had to ask for more paper because honey I’m getting ALL the details in there) and I can just imagine how freaked out neighbor is when she sees what time they finally move their cars from in front of her driveway.

And now I’m coming down from the weird calm that I had through the entire event, and my heart feels like it’s going to EXPLODE.  I had heart surgery two months ago, do I need this??  The pathetic part is that I know now just how stupid those people are, and I know this won’t be the end from their side by any means.  We’ll start finding more stuff broken, or he’ll start climbing over the fence back at the back of the property to steal stuff from husband’s tool shed, or my tires will get slashed.  These people are that dumb and hateful, they proved it tonight.  He said if we had animals he would kill them, and then he made the same threat against me.  How stupid does a person have to be to stand there with his phone out recording himself ranting and making threats against a woman standing in her own yard in her pajamas?  Big tough man there.  And his mama grinning at me the whole time, telling me I’m crazy and she’s concerned for her own safety because of me, while her son is standing right behind her threatening my life.

I’m just...my god, I don’t even know what to think.  I thought people only acted like this in TV dramas, seriously.  I’ve seen some shit in my life but this particular brand of stupid has up till now evaded me, but now it’s been in my face and I’m sort of in shock.

I don’t like guns.  At ALL.  Tom has always had at least one hidden carefully away, safely locked up away from the house, but now there are two inside my house in immediate grabbing range.  He insisted that I let him show me how to use them.  Rules were laid down for the boys - never touch, never, don’t even get close to them - and now there is a box of shotgun shells on my fireplace mantel and a singleshot rifle by the door.  I hate this so damn much.

Don’t pick it up unless you’re ready to use it, he told me.  Without even thinking, I said back, “If I touch it it’s getting used.”

I HATE THIS SO FUCKING MUCH

My god.  I told the cops that the drug lord that lived over there four years ago was a better neighbor than this woman.  They didn’t even laugh.

I guess they’re right, now that I think about it...it isn’t funny.

[pickalilywrites]

Halu! I love reading your rivetra fics especially the heart skips a beat <3 you're such a great writer! was hoping if you can try to write rivetra modern au during the pandemic? :D

here you go~ ah, i always take a long time to write now, but at least it was out before the pandemic is over ^^" (as much as i would like it to be over ...) i hope you like it ~

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Love in the Time of COVID-19

Rivetra. COVID-19 Pandemic AU.

9543 words.

Read on Ao3!

Levi Ackerman is hugely germaphobic and antisocial. For him, the COVID-19 global pandemic is simultaneously the worst and best thing that has ever happened. People have finally begun to wash their filthy hands, cover their mouths with the crook of their elbows when they sneeze, and wear masks over their mouths to slow the spread of airborne contamination. All non-essential workers have stopped going outdoors, which makes Levi look less like a recluse and more like a normal person.

Of course, even these basic precautions couldn’t stop the coronavirus outbreak from growing into a full-blown pandemic. Maybe if everyone were more like Levi — washing their hands for a full five minutes rather than the CDC’s recommendation of a measly twenty seconds, bringing around a pack of disinfecting wipes and wiping down everything he touches, and rubbing his hands with hand sanitizer at least three times after he touches anything — the world wouldn’t be in this mess.

The worst thing about this pandemic, however, isn’t the fact that people are taking the bare minimum precautions, but the people who aren’t taking any precautions at all. For every person wearing a mask, there are at least ten people outside not wearing a mask. Hell, there are even people dying in the hospital of COVID that are convinced this whole pandemic is a hoax rather than a mess of their own making because they refuse to wash their own hands. It’s because of these people that Levi has to be especially careful on the few occasions he leaves his apartment, stripping off all his clothes as soon as he walks through his door and tossing them in the laundry basket before he takes a shower with scalding hot water to kill off all the germs he may have brought home with him.

For the most part though, Levi doesn’t mind pandemic life. It’s a lot like his life pre-pandemic, but he disinfects everything twice as much as he normally did before COVID. As a data analyst, he hardly went into the office anyway and he didn’t bat an eyelash when his company declared that everyone would be working from home until further notice. With delivery services becoming more popular, Levi found it was easier to get things delivered to his apartment. Even his neighbors are bearable. People are too busy working to be a bother during work hours and by the end of the day they’re too tired to do anything except turn on Netflix until they fall asleep on the couch. Really, Levi doesn’t have a problem with anyone except the woman living in the unit next to him.

Prior to COVID, Levi wasn’t even aware of her existence. He sometimes heard about her from the chatty woman in the unit across from him. The nosy woman somehow miraculously knew when Levi (or anyone, really) would be coming out of their apartments, popping out and ensnaring them in a conversation that always seemed fifteen minutes too long.

The gossipy woman loved the person who occupied the unit next to Levi’s. Levi’s next-door neighbor had moved in a few months before the pandemic started and was never at home, the talkative neighbor explained, because she was an actress.

“An actress in the theater. Musical theater, darling,” the woman emphasized, her eyes as wide as saucers like being in theater was the most magnificent thing anyone could ever do. “Poor dear is never home though. If she’s not rehearsing or on a show, she’s working part-time jobs at the diner downtown.”

Levi didn’t think very much of it after hearing about the woman next door for the first hundred times. It wasn’t his business what other people did. Anyway, if the woman was hardly ever home, that was even better. Except now that there’s a pandemic and everyone is required to stay home, the woman is home almost all the time and if Levi hadn’t believed the woman had a career in theater, he certainly does now.

The woman likes to sing on the balcony after work hours. It’s considerate of her but somehow also very infuriating to Levi because he can’t complain that he’s working. She also stops at an appropriate time (usually 8 or 9 at the latest), so it’s not as if Levi can send in a noise complaint without feeling like a dick. He just has to grit his teeth and listen to his neighbor belt out “If I Loved You” from Carousel while he cooks dinner.

She doesn’t have a bad voice either. It’s just that it’s incredibly loud. He supposes if she were any quieter, she wouldn’t be any good for musical theater. Maybe his other apartment neighbors are elated to have a living Disney princess sing for them for free every night, but it’s grating to the ears if you’re living right next door.

He probably should have said something when she started singing more dramatic songs, songs that crescendoed and built into a climax that Levi could probably hear if he were living on the other side of the apartment. It’s those goddamn musical ballads that Levi hates the most. If it’s upbeat, at least Levi knows what’s coming but those ballads always have to build and build until the woman is belting out to the heavens.

Levi thought he could bear it. Surely, the pandemic would only last for a few more weeks or even another month or two, but new coronavirus cases kept climbing and Levi knew he’d be listening to entire one-woman musicals for the next year if he didn’t say anything. One night when the woman begins yet another musical ballad, Levi finally throws open the sliding door to his balcony and is surprised when he sees his next-door neighbor sitting cross-legged on her balcony, a pink floral mask on her face, and a guitar in her lap.

The woman stops strumming her guitar and looks up, her amber eyes wide with surprise. “Hi,” she says, voice slightly muffled through her mask. She waves awkwardly at Levi even though he’s frozen in place on his balcony and hasn’t made any move to greet her.

“Why are you wearing a mask?” he asks her as if he’s not wearing one too. It makes sense that he’s wearing one. He always wears a mask when he steps outside even if there’s nobody around. He knows most people don’t because they don’t see the point if nobody else is around, so why is she wearing one?

The woman’s nose scrunches up from under her mask while her eyebrows are knit in confusion. “We’re in a pandemic. Isn’t that why you’re wearing one, too?” the woman asks, gesturing towards Levi and then her own mask. She pauses for a moment as if thinking about whether or not she should continue. “Also, I heard you’re a huge germaphobe.”

“Who told you that?” Levi snaps.

“The lady who lives across from you,” the woman replies.

Ah. That explains a lot.

“But I don’t even come out here that regularly,” Levi points out.

The woman shrugs. “Just in case. It’s better to be safe than sorry anyway,” the woman says. “And it’s not like it’s a big deal to wear a mask.”

Levi’s not sure if it’s because he’s been stuck in his house for months, but he’s just fallen a little bit in love with this woman and it’s all because she said wearing a mask isn’t that much of an inconvenience. He doesn’t even know her name. After meeting for five seconds and realizing that she’s considerate for wearing a mask on the off chance that Levi might go out on the balcony, Levi’s starting to feel like a dick for coming out here to yell at her for singing too loud. She’s a lovely singer, really, and he should probably be thankful she’s not a part of a screamo metal rock band or something.

Levi fights the urge to disappear in his apartment. He slides the glass door behind him, trapping himself outside on the balcony and forcing himself to speak more with the woman. He’s not exactly sure what he should say. Should he ask her name? Compliment her singing? Ask her about how she’s handling quarantine? He sits down cross-legged facing her.

“What song were you singing?” he ends up asking the woman.

“Oh,” the woman says as if she’s surprised Levi’s still speaking with her. She looks skyward, trying to recall the name. “‘Please Don’t Make Me Love You.’ It’s from the Dracula musical.”

“Oh.” Levi hadn’t been aware that there was even a musical adaptation of the Bram Stoker gothic novel.

“Yeah, I know,” the woman says with another nose scrunch, her mask shifting upward from the movement. “There’s a musical for everything nowadays.” She hums a few notes and strums a few chords across her guitar. “But what about you? How are you spending your quarantine?”

“Me?” Levi repeats. “I just … am hanging in there.”

“That’s good,” the woman says. Levi can’t see her smile behind her mask, but he does see the edge of her eyes crinkle. She sets her guitar beside her and leans back on her palms. Her head tilts to the side and her ginger hair falls away from her lithe neck. “I’m Petra, by the way. I don’t think we’ve ever formally met.”

That’s probably because Levi has never made the effort to be neighborly. In fact, the only reason they’re meeting right now is because Levi was going out here to complain about her singing, but he won’t mention that. Instead, he shrugs and says, “Levi.” It’s a lame introduction. Even he cringes at it, but Petra doesn’t seem to mind.

“I’ve never seen you out here, but maybe because I’m only on the balcony in the evenings,” Petra says. She picks idly at the guitar strings, letting their sound reverberate with every twang before she moves onto the next string. She stops suddenly and looks at Levi, eyebrow raised. “Oh, you didn’t come out here because it was too loud, did you? I know my voice is pretty … resonant, especially in a small space like this.” She winces apologetically.

Levi is thankful that his mask is able to cover the blush that is surely rising in his cheeks. “N-no,” he stammers. He sits up a little straighter as if this will somehow make him a less obvious liar. “I just … wanted some fresh air.”

“Mmm, makes sense,” Petra hums. Her eyes crinkle again and Levi’s heart does something weird in his chest. “Good to get some fresh air circulating in the apartment. I always have my air filter on nowadays too.”

Levi realizes with horror that she’s absolutely right. He usually keeps his apartment windows closed, opening them only in the early morning and the late evening for the fresh air. He hadn’t accounted for the lack of fresh air in the entire apartment complex. There’s no telling whose dirty air he’s been breathing these past months. Sure, he has at least one air filter in every room, but he can’t count on these machines to filter out every germ flying around the air. Why hadn’t he accounted for the poor air circulation through the building before this? He should have been keeping his windows open this entire time. The air outside is filled with germs as well, but the concentration of germs from other people who may or may not be spreading COVID within this apartment complex is much higher here than it is inside.

Levi stands up, grabbing the railing of his balcony for support. He feels a little dizzy right now and has the frantic urge to clean his entire apartment again even though he had cleaned it this morning. This time, he’ll be sure to deep clean the carpet.

“I have to go,” he tells Petra, but he doesn’t give her the reason. He doesn’t want her to think he’s an idiot for not thinking about air circulation sooner.

Petra raises her eyebrows as if she’s surprised and perhaps a little bit sorry to see him go. “Alright then,” she says. She picks up her guitar once more, strumming a few pleasant chords. “Have a good evening, Levi. It was nice meeting you.”

Levi pauses at the door. “You, too,” he says finally before he slips inside. He makes sure to leave the door open. The lack of barrier makes it easier for Petra’s voice to carry into his apartment. That’s not why he leaves his door open, of course. It's purely for the fresh air to come in, or at least that’s what Levi tells himself.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Levi does not know why the news of the woman next door intrigues his friends so much. He had casually mentioned her once on a video call with them and now they won’t stop asking him about her, constantly requesting updates on little tedious things like the songs she had sung the night before and if she still wears her mask. Even more surprising, Levi finds he can’t ignore their questions and answers each and every one. He tells himself it’s because he knows their curiosity will never be quenched until he answers their inquiries and it’s better to respond than to be bombarded with the same question a half dozen more times.

“So you guys talk to each other every night?” Isabel asks. She sits closer to her laptop and her face fills the little square with her name in the right-hand corner. Her hands sit in her hands and she has a thoughtful pout on her lips. “That’s a lot, Levi.”

“We talk to each other every night,” Levi points out.

“And you complained that it was a lot!” Isabel says, which is true. He would have been satisfied with weekly Zoom calls or even fortnightly, but Isabel had insisted that going so long without seeing Levi and Farlan onscreen would drive her mad. “But that doesn’t seem to be the case with this mysterious next-door neighbor.”

“She’s hardly mysterious,” Levi snorts.

“She’s right, though,” Farlan comments. He isn’t perched at the tip of his seat. Unlike Isabel, he’s less intrigued about Levi’s new relationship with his neighbor and more amused about the whole thing. “You’ve never been interested in people enough to have regular meetups with them even if it’s a ‘coincidental’ meeting on the balcony every night.” Levi despises the way Farlan uses air quotes.

“It’s very Romeo and Juliet,” Isabel says with a nod. There’s a silence at the other end and Isabel adds, “Because of the balcony. Except this time there are two balconies and nobody is dying. Hopefully.”

Levi rolls his eyes. “I just bump into her more often now that I go out to get fresh air now,” Levi explains. It’s a part of his routine now. Better to breathe good, clean (or at least cleaner) air than continue to breathe in apartment air that has been god knows where. “Which, by the way, you two should really consider as well. Who knows what germs are floating around in your apartment complexes?”

Isabel wrinkles her nose. “If that were a problem, I would have gotten COVID by now,” she points out, and Levi wants to groan. He doesn’t want to explain to her once more that, after exposure to the virus, contracting COVID is a game of chance and she’s just been lucky. There’s no telling how much luckier she can get as the pandemic continues.

“I’ll consider it,” Farlan says, and Levi is at least grateful for that. He taps his fingers on his desk. Farlan’s microphone is so sensitive that Levi can hear the tap, tap, tapping noise on the other end. “But that neighbor of yours … what do you guys even talk about every night?”

“I don’t know just … stuff, I guess,” Levi mumbles. He rubs at the back of his neck. He can’t quite recall what he and Petra talked about yesterday on their balconies. Their conversations always start out similarly with her asking Levi about his day and Petra asking about his, and by the time Levi retreats into his apartment he finds that an hour has already passed. After a moment, he says, “Well, she told me about how she was sewing face masks in her free time so that she could donate them.”

“Oooh,” Isabel coos. Her head is in her hands again and she looks starry-eyed. “This girl sure has everything, doesn’t she? Not only is she cute, but she takes COVID safety precautions seriously and she cares about other people? No wonder you’re so interested in her, Levi.”

Levi’s mind stutters for a moment. “When did I say she was cute?” he stammers.

“Is she not cute?” Farlan asks with a raised eyebrow.

Levi’s knee-jerk response is to say “no” just because he knows a “yes” will elicit more teasing from Isabel, but the question Farlan asks makes Levi realize that he’s never seen Petra without her mask off. Prior to this realization, Levi has never minded seeing Petra with a mask on. After all, they’re both still in a pandemic and, even if neither of them show visible symptoms of COVID, it’s possible that they could still transmit the virus from their minimal outings for groceries or other daily tasks that require them to leave the apartment. Now that he’s realized it though, he’s overcome with this strange desire to see Petra’s face behind the mask.

There’s only so much one can see of a person when they’re wearing a mask. Levi knows the top half of Petra’s face quite well: slender, expressive eyebrows, large eyes the color of amber, and even the dip of the bridge of her nose. Anything beyond that is a mystery to him, hidden behind the cloth of Petra’s mask. He doesn’t know what kind of nose she has, if it’s grand and shapely or sweet and button-shaped or adorably upturned. He doesn’t know the curve of her lips, if she has a well-defined cupid’s bow or thick, full lips the color of petals. Judging by the state of the pandemic right now, it’s unlikely that he’ll find out anytime soon and he can’t fathom requesting Petra take off her mask just to satisfy his newfound curiosity.

“I don’t know what she looks like,” Levi finally says.

Farlan snorts and Isabel erupts into peals of laughter.

“You’ve been talking to her for how long and you don’t know what she looks like?” Isabel titters. She’s even wiping tears from her eyes, although Levi doesn’t think the situation is that humorous. “It’s not like you guys are wearing hazmat suits when you sit on the balcony.”

“It’s not like I don’t know what she looks like at all,” Levi grumbles. “But we’ve been wearing masks this whole time whenever we’ve gone out on the balcony to talk to each other.”

“Aren’t your balconies, like, more than six feet apart? You guys could probably take your masks off and it’d be fine,” Isabel points out. She sees Levi open his mouth to speak and she rolls her eyes, giving him a dismissive wave of her hand. “Okay, fine, just wear your masks like the hypochondriacs you are! If it’ll make you feel better about the ‘sick game of roulette viruses play when infecting us,’ go right ahead!”

Levi scowls. He wishes he could kick Isabel out of the Zoom chat, but Farlan has forbidden Levi to do that after Levi cut short the first Zoom call he hosted and Farlan has been the host of their Zoom calls ever since. Thus, Levi has had to sit through various Zoom calls with Isabel mocking his informative lectures on infections and diseases. On the bright side, at least she remembers Levi’s lectures well enough to recite them back to him even if it is in a sarcastic tone.

In a tiny square on Levi’s screen, Farlan watches with an amused expression on his face.

“What?” Levi asks.

“You could ask her if she’s comfortable with taking her mask off,” Farlan suggests.

“I can’t just ask her that!” Levi splutters. He gets embarrassed at the idea of it — just outright asking Petra as if it’s as simple as asking her about the weather or what her favorite color is.

Isabel rolls her eyes. “It’s not like you’re asking her to take off her shirt or something,” she says.

If Levi’s face wasn’t red yet, it certainly is now.

“Ignore her,” Farlan says. “But, you know, it is just a mask and you keep yourself extremely safe and she adheres to the CDC guidelines pretty well from what you tell us. If you two are both comfortable with it, why not just ask?”

Because it’s exactly as they’re saying: it’s not like asking her to take off her shirt. In a way, asking her to take off her mask is infinitely more dangerous and intimate than asking her to take off any other article of clothing. COVID-19 is a virus that is spread through aerosol droplets from infected persons. By asking Petra to remove her mask, Levi would ultimately be asking Petra to lower her defenses to these droplets and increase her chances of getting infected. If Petra were to ask him to remove his mask, Levi isn’t sure he would be able to say ‘yes’ for these very same reasons.

It’s something Levi mulls over even after the call ends and Isabel and Farlan bid him adieu for the night. He thinks about it in bed, imagining a different COVID-infected universe in which he musters up the courage to ask Petra to lower her mask for him and she says yes, revealing a beaming smile behind her mask when she lowers it for the first time. For some reason, just thinking about her smile and how it might look — if she has bunny teeth that stick out, if she has a cute underbite, if her teeth are just a little bit crooked, if she bothers to put on lip balm under her mask or if she forgets and leaves her lips chapped — makes it difficult for Levi to sleep. He spends his night tossing and turning in bed, haunted by a smile he’s never seen.

The thought of Petra’s smile follows him into the morning and well into the day. It’s all he thinks about as he cleans his apartment in the morning, he writes line after line of code at work, and as he cleans it once more in the afternoon. It’s all he thinks about as he opens the door to his balcony for his evening chat with Petra. It’s all he’s thinking about as he sits across from her and she tells him about his day.

He’s not brave enough to ask her to take off her mask, but he keeps thinking of it. He watches the movement of Petra’s mask as her lips move beneath it. If he concentrates hard enough, he thinks he can see the trace of her mouth, can imagine the outline of her lips when she purses her mouth in a pout or when he thinks her lower lip sticks out as she ponders what to talk about next.

“When do you think we’ll be able to take off our masks?” Levi asks. He’s brave enough to ask this at least.

“Hmm,” Petra hums, and Levi swears he sees the shadow of her lips pressed in that thoughtful pout once more. It drives him crazy. “Maybe when enough people get vaccinated. It should be a few months? My friend mentioned it a little while ago. They said it’s amazing how quickly mRNA vaccines are being developed to treat COVID.”

Levi nods. He’s heard this as well when doing his own research, although the technical aspects of the vaccine and how it works to protect him against the virus are beyond him. Still, he trusts medical professionals more than he trusts random people on the internet swearing that vaccines are just a conspiracy theory.

“So if you were vaccinated and it was two weeks after your second dose … and you were only in the company of someone who also received their second dose two weeks ago … would you consider taking off your mask?” Levi asks. He doesn’t look at her, instead drawing circles on the floor of his balcony. He can feel the dust and grime coming off on his finger and makes a mental note to sweep and vacuum his balcony tomorrow morning.

“I’d consider it,” Petra says. When Levi looks up, Petra’s mask is shifted upward just the slightest bit and the corners of her eyes are crinkled. He wants to see her smile so much. “If the other person were okay with it, too, of course.”

“Of course,” Levi repeats, his voice a quiet murmur, and he leaves it at that because he’s afraid of asking more.

But he lets himself imagine that the vaccine will be out to the public soon and, once it is, he’ll finally have the courage to ask Petra if she’s willing to take her mask off. He lets himself imagine that she says yes. And he lets himself imagine that the first thing she does when she takes her mask off is smile.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Levi sits on the balcony with Petra at 1:58 AM. It’s the third night in a row that they’ve done this, sitting on their balconies with their masks on and the glow from their laptop screens illuminating their faces. Were Levi with anyone else, he would complain that this was an unreasonable hour to be up even if it is for the slim chance to snag a spot for a vaccine appointment, but because he’s up at this ungodly hour with Petra, Levi finds he doesn’t mind.

Technically, Levi doesn’t apply for a vaccine at this time. The rules are confusing, but he’s not supposed to schedule an appointment until certain other people have gotten their vaccines. People who are currently eligible are healthcare workers and essential workers. Petra, being a waitress in the food industry, is considered an essential worker and is thus eligible for the vaccine at this time. Is it irritating for Levi to watch other people get vaccinated before him? A little bit, but he’s glad Petra will soon get the vaccine. Unlike Petra, Levi works at home all day and is thus less likely to be exposed to the virus anyway. Even if he can’t book a vaccine appointment at this time, helping Petra book hers will help him prepare for scheduling his appointment when the time comes.

Petra yawns, using her elbow to cover her mouth even though she’s still wearing her mask. Levi feels horribly endeared watching her. She’s dressed in her pajamas — a cotton pajama set in black and white polka dot print and fuzzy cat slippers on her feet. Her hair is tied in a messy bun atop her head, stray locks of ginger falling around her face even though she wears a hairband meant to keep them away. Even as Petra continues to hit the refresh button, her eyelids droop and she looks as if she’s about to nod off to sleep soon.

“Abandoned slots tend to open up at 2 AM,” Petra murmurs to herself over and over. It’s like a mantra she keeps repeating, hoping that it’ll help her stay awake until she books herself an appointment. Levi doesn’t know how much it’s helping. “Abandoned slots tend to open up at 2 AM.”

“Should you really be staying up this late to book an appointment?” Levi asks. He hits the refresh button too, but the page remains the same. All appointments are full. “Don’t you have a morning shift tomorrow?”

Petra squints at him, concentrating as she fully registers his question. “Mmm, if I don’t get one at 2, then I’ll head right to bed.” Petra yawns again. As usual, she uses her elbow to cover her mouth. “I don’t know how people are booking their appointments so fast, but at least it seems like it’s a ‘first come, first serve’ type of thing. I heard it was worse at the hospital when they were first giving the vaccines out.”

Levi remembers hearing about it on the news and then hearing about it second-hand from Petra when she was talking about her doctor friend. There were some hospitals that determined vaccinations for their staff members by raffle, not even prioritizing doctors and nurses that were working first-hand with COVID patients. In the particular hospital that Petra’s friend worked at, COVID vaccinations were given out to higher-ranking doctors first regardless of whether or not they were working with COVID patients, which also caused a flurry of criticism from the hospital staff as well as media when the news broke out. The current system being used for front-line workers to get vaccinated certainly is inconvenient, but Levi doesn’t know what a better one would be.

“Just keep refreshing, just keep refreshing,” Petra says in a sing-song voice. She hits the refresh button robotically, but her eyelids are still drooping. Suddenly, she looks up, a little bit more awake than she was just a second ago. “Do you think my finger will fall off before I get an appointment?”

The mask hides the upward twitch of Levi’s lips. “I don’t think so,” he replies. He hits the refresh button and his eyes flicker to his screen. His eyes widen when he sees 10, 15, 20 spots open up at different pharmacies nearby. Quickly, he begins to turn his laptop around and points at the screen excitedly. “Wait, look!”

Petra takes one look at his screen and begins to tap around hers. She doesn’t even tell him that she sees them or thank him for alerting her because that would take a few extra seconds that might allow the appointments to fill up before she can claim a spot. Levi watches as Petra sits hunched over her laptop, the light from the screen allowing him to see how her brows are knit together in concentration as she types her information on the screen. She even has her insurance card ready beside her, filling in the necessary information easily. Levi doesn’t think he’s ever seen anyone type that quickly in his life, and he normally hits 100+ wpm when he’s writing code.

Suddenly, Petra hits the enter key one last time and looks up. Her typing has halted entirely and she stares at Levi with a blank expression on her face. It’s difficult to tell whether she got the appointment or if all the available slots had filled up at the last minute. It’s just an appointment, one that Petra can probably book later this week if not tomorrow, but the anticipation is making Levi’s palms sweat.

“So?” Levi asks. He’s never felt like it was hard to breathe wearing his mask, but he’s feeling a little breathless now. “Did you get one?”

A beat passes. Then two. Then three.

Suddenly, Petra raises her arms, lifts her head, and lets out a yell that’s far too loud for 2 AM in the morning. It’s so sudden that Levi flinches, but he sees that Petra’s eyes are crinkled at the edges when she faces him again. “I got it!” she proudly announces. She’s swaying as she sits. She probably used all of her energy just booking that appointment. Considering how tired and sleep-deprived Petra has been for the past three days, Levi’s surprised that she hadn’t made a typo at the last moment and missed her chance.

He’s grinning from ear to ear, not that she can see. “That’s great. Good for you. When is it?”

“Tomorrow morning,” she says. Petra shoots him with an endearing finger gun and winks. It makes his heart flutter in the oddest way. She shuts the screen of her laptop and the blue light that was illuminating her face disappears. It makes it more difficult for Levi to see the lines and creases in her mask. It also makes it a little harder for him to imagine the smile hidden beneath the fabric covering her face. “I’m going to call in sick and come in for my appointment. I don’t care what my boss says. It’s better if I get the vaccine anyway even if I might get yelled at when I come in tomorrow.”

Levi furrows his brow. “Are you going to be okay the next day? The side effects …” His voice trails off.

“It should be okay,” Petra says with yet another yawn. She should really go to sleep, but Levi doesn’t have the heart to tell her to go just yet. “The side effects aren’t really an issue until the second dose, I hear. Although, some people who had COVID said the first dose kicked their butts. Since I haven’t had COVID, it probably won’t be a problem for me.”

“But you won’t go into work if you happen to feel adverse side effects?” Levi can’t help but ask.

Petra doesn’t answer for a moment, just looks at Levi for a moment before her eyes smile again. “You’re sweet,” Petra tells him, and Levi’s flustered. For some reason, he wants to deny it, to tell her that he’s just asking what any reasonably concerned friend would ask, but Petra speaks again before he gets a chance to. “Yeah, I’ll call in another sick day if I have to. Thanks for worrying.”

Levi is about to tell her that it’s not a problem. Of course, it’s not a problem because helping her doesn’t burden him in any way, but he bites his lip instead.

Petra stretches her arms above her head. She gives him another sleep smile, one that Levi can only see in her eyes again, and waves at him tiredly. “That was kind of fun in a hectic way. Thanks for staying up with me these past few nights.”

Levi fiddles with the sleeve of his shirt. “It’s so I know what to do when it’s my turn to make an appointment,” he mumbles. He cringes when he speaks. He doesn’t sound convincing at all.

“Then we’ll do it again when it’s your turn,” Petra says. She points her index finger at him. “It’s the least I can do after you stayed up with me. I should do the same for you.”

He tells her that she doesn’t have to, but Petra insists and won’t let him go back into his apartment until he agrees. They have an undecided date for when they book Levi’s appointment. Petra, ever the optimist, says that the system will probably be less hectic by the time Levi’s eligible, but Levi’s not so sure. Still, he feels quite content as he returns to his apartment.

Petra gets her vaccine tomorrow. Levi wonders if he should construct a care package for her when she comes back and leave it at her doorstep. Not anything fancy, he thinks, just the essentials just in case side effects hit: canned chicken noodle soup, tea and honey, Gatorade, and a small bottle of Tylenol just in case. That’s probably overkill though, Levi sighs. He can think about being nice and thoughtful all he wants, but he knows he’ll back out in the end because there’s a chance that he’s overstepping his boundaries. He should just play it cool. Play it safe. Just pop out on the balcony tomorrow night and ask her how it went, if she was nervous, if her arm hurts.

It’s fine. He doesn’t need to be her caretaker. It’s good enough that they’re neighbors, two people in a short-distance relationship of six feet (or more) apart, unlikely friends in this strange time. It’s too much for him to hope to find love in this time of COVID-19. It’s enough that they’re just two people helping each other stay safe from COVID and booking appointments together. Maybe in a month or two they can be friends who are fully vaccinated against the virus. Two people who still take precautions against the infectious disease but who can live life in a little less fear because their chances of contracting the virus are lowered to about 5%. Two people who can smile at each other without their masks on.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Levi gets his vaccine two months after Petra. Like many other people, he suffered few side effects from the first dose except for a sore arm the very next day. The effects of the second dose are far worse.

He was warned by Petra, who told him that the effects of the second dose were like getting hit by the flu virus and a truck at the same time. He was also warned by various anonymous persons on the internet that were kind enough to share their vaccine experiences on online forums as well as medical professionals that posted informative online videos on YouTube. No warning could have prepared him for how bad the side effects really were.

Levi feels the effects of the second dose ten hours after he returns home from his vaccine appointment. At first, his arm just aches and he feels slightly drowsy. He doesn’t think much of it, thinking that these effects are mild compared to what other people are experiencing. After a few more hours, his body feels terribly cold and his entire body is aching. Everything irritates him more than usual: the light streaming in from his balcony hurts his eyes, the rattle of the air vent is grating to his ears, and the pounding of his head makes him want to bang his head against the wall until he passes out. To put it lightly, he feels like shit.

Petra said she only felt some muscle pain and had a slight fever for a few hours, but Levi feels like he can barely walk. The night Petra had her second dose, she only came out for a few minutes to talk to Levi before leaving to sleep early, but Levi doesn’t think he can even manage that.

Lying on the couch with a blanket draped over his body and an ice pack on his head, Levi manages to reach for his phone on the coffee table and type out a brief text message.

Levi:

Staying in tonight. See you tomorrow if I feel better.

Petra:

🙁🙁🙁

I hope it’s not too bad.

Feel better soon!

I hope you feel better tomorrow 😊

Levi wonders what she means when she says she hopes he feels better tomorrow. Does that mean she hopes he feels better so that they can see each other tomorrow? Or maybe he’s overthinking it and she’s just being polite. It’s normal to say “hope you feel better” when someone is feeling awful, isn’t it?

He doesn’t want to think about this too much. He should just rest instead of mulling about what Petra’s messages really mean. With a sigh, Levi turns his phone screen off and leaves it face-down on the table so that he’s not tempted to check his texts every time he gets a new notification.

Levi settles down against the pillows on his couch and wraps his blankets around him. He’s already taken a Tylenol, but it has only managed to dull his headache and not get rid of it completely. His limbs still feel achy, although not in the unbearable way they did an hour ago. He wonders if he should eat something. He had downed a Gatorade when he first got home and then drank another bottle a few hours ago, but he hasn’t eaten much except for a slice of bread and half an apple. It would probably be best for him to eat something else, but he doesn’t have the energy to get up off the couch and prepare something. Even a packet of ramen feels like it would be too much for him to handle at the moment.

He tosses and turns on the couch until he finds a position that he doesn’t hate. He’s not sure how he’ll be able to sleep when he feels this uncomfortable. He thinks it’ll take him at least an hour or two, but he drifts off without realizing and doesn’t wake up until he hears the ringing of his doorbell.

Groggy with sleep and muscles still aching, Levi gets up from the couch, his blankets dragging behind him as he checks the door. When he looks through the peephole, he doesn’t see anything. He’s too tired to even be angry about someone ding-dong ditching his door and he’s too feverish to even wonder why somebody would ring his doorbell only to abandon his doorstep moments later. He’s about to walk back to his couch and collapse into another dreamless sleep, but the thought that he might have accidentally called for some takeout while in his post-vaccine delirium forces him to yank open the door.

There isn’t anybody in sight nor is there a bag of takeout. Instead, there’s a basket with a note on it. Levi bends down to read the neat script printed on the paper:

Hope you feel better soon! I made some food that might help since you’re probably not in the mood to cook for yourself. 😊

-Petra

Levi stands there and blinks at the basket of food, wondering if this is all part of his fever dream. Maybe he hasn’t woken up yet. Levi is sure he’s dreamed this all up, but his body hurts too much for him to be still dreaming. He’s about to go in and text Petra to ask her if she really had left the basket of food for him, but he looks up to see the apartment door across from him cracked open and his gossipy neighbor looking at him, only her eye visible. Startled, Levi quickly grabs the basket and shuts the door behind him with a slam.

He carries the basket with him to the couch, setting it on the table. When he picks up his phone, he sees he has over a dozen messages. Most of them, unsurprisingly, are from Isabel, but when he scrolls to the bottom he sees he also has one from Petra. He taps on that one first.

Petra:

Cooking post-vaccine sucks!! I know from personal experience 😥

Left you some goodies outside your door jic you don’t feel like cooking. I hope you enjoy!

If it’s from Petra, then it’s safe to inspect the package. Levi lifts the cloth covering the top of the basket and peers inside. He pulls out a colorful tumbler first. The container is a pretty and pastel peach color that fades to white at the bottom. On the side it has a label with the same neat handwriting the first note had. “Peach smoothie,” it says with the ingredients listed in smaller print at the bottom: peaches, banana, greek yogurt, almond milk, honey, vanilla & cinnamon. When Levi looks at the other containers, he finds that they’re labeled similarly.

It’s difficult to explain how Levi feels as he sits on the couch and eats the rice porridge Petra had packed. The porridge is still warm, steam escaping from the thermos when Levi had first unscrewed the cap. Earlier, he hadn’t been in the mood to eat, but now he finds he can’t stop as he shovels spoonful after spoonful of rich, hearty porridge in his mouth.

It’s warm, Levi thinks, and he continues to eat. He no longer feels the chills that had confined him to his couch and forced Levi to wrap himself in layers and layers of blankets. He just feels warm and content, the rich broth from the rice porridge filling his belly and warming him from the inside out. There are tender chunks of chicken breast that Levi devours hungrily and tiny pieces of julienned ginger that balance the porridge out with a kick of spice and just the tiniest bit of sweetness. Levi doesn’t remember the last time he’s eaten so well.

He feels … so content as he sits back against his couch, upright for the first time in hours. He nibbles on the apple slices had cut for him, making sure to admire the little rabbit-ears she had taken the time to carve into each one. In between sips of the peach smoothie, Levi ponders.

Is it normal for neighbors to make food for their neighbors when they’re feeling ill? Is it something good acquaintances do? Is it something friends do? The last one is possible, although Levi has yet to receive a care package from Isabel or Farlan. Then again, he wasn’t planning on sending them one for their second doses, although he’s seriously considering it after experiencing the second dose side effects firsthand. It could be that his post-vaccine delirium is causing him to imagine things that aren’t there: affection, fondness … love?

Levi downs the rest of his smoothie and decides to sleep it all away.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Levi does feel better the next morning, but he doesn’t feel entirely okay either. He feels … strange. While the symptoms he suffered from previously are now gone, Levi finds himself suffering from new ones. They aren’t as uncomfortable as everything he had yesterday — fever, body ache, chills, headache, to name a few — but they make him feel anxious nonetheless. He could be one of the few cases suffering from deadly side effects after the vaccine.

Like any person without a medical degree or a friend in the medical field, Levi takes to the Internet to find answers. He looks up all the uncomfortable symptoms he’s feeling: chest pain, heart palpitations, light-headedness. When he thinks he’s found a consistent answer among various medical sites, he immediately calls Farlan over Zoom.

“I think I’m dying,” he tells Farlan immediately after his friend picks up.

Farlan furrows his brow, his blue eyes filled with concern. “You mean … you didn’t manage to get COVID right before your second dose, did you?” Farlan runs a hand through his honey-blond hair, looking around his apartment for things he needs to drive over to Levi’s house: his wallet, keys, a first aid kit. “Are you okay? I’ll drive over there really quick.”

“No, no. Not COVID,” Levi says quickly. He rubs his hand over his chest. “It’s just … I’ve been feeling strange. I’ve been getting heart palpitations. Sometimes my chest hurts and I feel lightheaded. I think I might have myocarditis.”

Farlan blinks once. Twice. He takes a deep breath and then breathes out. Calmer now, he says, “I thought we talked about you self-diagnosing yourself with different diseases. Just because you’re a hypochondriac does not mean you’re qualified to make these types of calls about your health.”

“I’m serious this time!” Levi says. “It makes sense, doesn’t it? There are other people who have taken the vaccine and have developed pericarditis and myocarditis. I’m not being paranoid.” Levi admits to being quick to diagnosing himself with diseases in the past, many of which were probably impossible for him to contract in hindsight, but he doesn’t know why Farlan is scolding him for being careful about his health.

Farlan sighs. He leans back against his chair and rubs his eyes. “Alright,” Farlan says. He sits up. He doesn’t look angry anymore, just tired. “Tell me everything in detail this time and don’t leave anything out.”

“Well, I told you,” Levi says. “Chest pain and heart palpitations and dizziness -”

“And these all started right after you received your second vaccine?” Farlan asks.

“Yeah, I …,” Levi’s voice trails off. He pauses just a moment and realizes it’s not the first time he’s experienced these symptoms. He’s felt it once or twice before, these strange pangs in his chest and his heart fluttering oddly. “It happened before. When I was with Petra.”

Farlan smirks. “Well, congratulations. It looks like you’re not sick. You’re just an idiot,” he tells Levi and then adds, “and in love.” Before Levi can deny it, Farlan hangs up.

Levi is still spluttering at his screen when a message from Farlan pops up.

Farlan:

Ask her out.

Levi stares at the message even as a million little notifications from Isabel pop up asking him why he called Farlan without her. He thinks about the message. He thinks about asking Petra. He winces when the thought of it brings an odd, sharp pain to his chest, the same one he’s been feeling all morning.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Petra smiles when she sees him that night, her eyes crinkling the way they do when she smiles and her mask shifting upwards. Levi still doesn’t know what her smile looks like, but he’s imagined it every night for weeks on end.

“Feeling better?” she asks Levi. She leans against the railing, her arms resting on top. Levi stands his railing too, but he doesn’t lean against it the way Petra does. It’s perhaps the closest they’ve gotten in all the time they’ve spoken with each other. “The second dose is really something, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Levi mumbles. He wonders if he looks terrible, if his face is pale or cheeks flushed, if there are bags under his eyes, if he looks any thinner than he was the day before. He hopes he doesn’t look too horrible.

Petra rests her head on her arms, eyes looking up at Levi. “So what are you gonna do once your two weeks are up and you have the antibodies?” she asks. “I mean, don’t go crazy and crowd surf at an unmasked concert, of course, but maybe you could go out and eat at a restaurant if they have outdoor dining or something.”

“Actually, I was thinking of staying home,” Levi says. His palms are sweating already and his heart is doing that thing where it’s beating erratically against his chest. His head is feeling strange. There’s a chance that Levi might faint and fall off his balcony where he’ll fall four stories until he hits the ground. He almost doesn’t believe it when he hears himself say, “I was actually wondering if you wanted to eat dinner at my place once my two weeks are over.”

Petra’s eyebrows are lifted in surprise. Maybe if she weren’t wearing a mask right now, Levi would see her lips shaped in a perfect O. After a moment, she asks, “Are you really asking me to have dinner with you on your first night of being fully vaccinated?” Her tone is teasing. It makes Levi blush and he almost regrets asking her until Petra says, “I’d be honored. Do you want me to bring anything? I can cook pretty well.”

“If you really want to,” Levi says. He doesn’t know how he’s still standing. A part of him feels as if he’s still on his couch in a fever-filled haze, suffering from the effects of the second vaccine. There’s no way all of this isn’t a dream. Subtly, he wraps his arm around his torso and pinches himself in the ribs. It hurts too much to be a dream.

He’s two weeks closer to seeing Petra without a mask on.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The night of the dinner, Levi finds himself frantically running around his apartment. He took the day off work just to clean his apartment even though he cleans it at least twice daily already. This time, he’s taken the liberty of dusting off the corners of the ceiling and making sure to get all the dirt from behind the furniture. He’s even cleaned the inside of each and every cabinet, including the very top cabinets that are a bitch for him to clean.

It’s overkill, Isabel and Farlan told him. They told him to just treat it like a normal dinner, to just pretend as if they’re the ones coming over instead of Petra, but Levi can’t do that. The difference between Petra and his friends is just too vast. For one thing, he knows that Farlan and Isabel don’t mind a bit of dust, but he’s not sure the same can be said for Petra. Because is so careful in following COVID prevention guidelines, he’s sure she would appreciate the extra time he takes cleaning his apartment just for her arrival.

He couldn’t decide what to buy for dinner. He knows Petra had offered to bring some food over for tonight, but it feels rude to assume that she’ll provide a full-course meal. The problem with ordering food himself is that he doesn’t know what kind of food she likes. Mexican? Italian? Chinese? Indian? There are too many possibilities. He doesn’t know if she has any food preferences or allergies either, and he’s far too nervous to ask her. Levi doesn’t know how to cook for shit, so ordering takeout is the norm for him, but it’s different when you’re ordering for another person. In the end, he orders one dish from different restaurants hoping that at least one dish will be able to satisfy Petra.

Then there’s the question of what to wear.

“Just wear anything,” Farlan groans. He’s splayed out in his chair and looking up at the ceiling. He hasn’t looked at the past dozen outfits Levi has suggested. “Wear your all-black grunge number or a three-piece suit. I’m sure it doesn’t matter.”

“I can’t just wear anything,” Levi hisses. “What will she think of me?”

“You’ve seen each other at 2 AM with only pajamas on,” Farlan points out. He yawns, not bothering to cover his mouth. “I’m pretty sure you two know each other well enough not to mind the other person’s fashion choices.”

“You should wear those tight leather pants,” Isabel says. She leans forward in her seat, her head in her palm with her elbow resting on her knee. “With that see-through shirt. And put some hair gel in your hair. Also maybe put on some eyeliner.”

Levi blinks. “I don’t have any of those things.”

Isabel groans. “I know, your wardrobe is sooooo boring!”

He shouldn’t have asked Farlan and Isabel for their help. He ends up with a mask, a sky-blue button-down, his darkest pair of jeans, and more anxiety than he had this morning. Petra should be here any minute and he’s feeling strange again. The same symptoms as before plague him: dizziness, pains in his chest, heart palpitations. The chime of his doorbell is enough to make him jump out of his seat on the couch and almost fall on the floor.

Levi scrambles for the door, pulling it open. There Petra stands, mask on and a bag full of food she’s prepared for tonight. She looked nice more than six feet away when they were standing on their balconies, but she looks even nicer standing right in front of him. He’s about to say as much when he notices the door across from them open and his neighbor’s eye peep out from the crack. Startled, he pulls Petra in just as she’s saying hello and slams the door behind her.

He breathes a sigh of relief only for his breath to hitch in his throat when he realizes that he’s trapped Petra in between him and the door. They’re standing far closer than six feet apart. It’s closer than six inches apart. It’s even closer than six centimeters. He can count every strand of ginger hair on her head, every eyelash, every freckle sprinkled across her cheeks.

Startled, Levi stumbles backward and apologizes. “S-sorry,” he stammers. His cheeks are flushed red with embarrassment, the heat made worse with his mask on. “The woman in the apartment across from me was staring.”

“Oh, yeah,” Petra says. She looks behind her, although there’s no way for her to see the neighbor now that Levi’s door is closed. When she turns back, her eyes are crinkled. “She talks a lot, that one.”

“Yeah,” Levi mumbles. He stares at Petra. He can’t help it. There’s a smile hidden behind her mask. He can see it if he only asks. He’s closer to seeing it than he’s ever been. Soon, he’ll know what lies beneath. Cautiously, carefully, Levi asks, “Would you like to take off your mask?”

“Sure,” Petra says. She unhooks the elastics from her ears. She removes the mask from her face, looks at Levi, and smiles.

It’s more beautiful than Levi could have imagined: a dimple in her cheek, freckles sprinkled across her skin that her mask had always covered until today, and just the slightest overbite in her smile. It makes Levi’s heart do a weird flip in his chest, worse than he’s ever felt before. His palms are sweating and he’s feeling light-headed. He’s not sure he’s even breathing.

Breathlessly, Levi tears off his mask. “Can I kiss you?” The question falls from his mouth without him thinking. He’s about to take it back and apologize for being too forward, but Petra takes a step closer to him.

Her smile is dazzling, growing wider as Petra takes a step. Her eyes crinkle the way they always did on the balcony. “Sure,” she says and reaches to place one hand on the back of Levi’s neck before pulling him in for a kiss.

It’s perfect.

[surrerafics]

The narrative….

Andy and Robert constantly argue about unresolved issues within their marriage because they don’t practice communication. Their pride and egos get in the way of that. They’re both stubborn, hardworking and strong-minded first responders. They often replace communication for sex for the tension rising in their marriage which has made matters worse. Andy has a lot of decisions to make concerning her marriage and a new unexpected surprise that has popped up to make matters even more complicated than they already were. Now that Andy is furious with her husband about causing Maya to lose her job she’s not so sure she really knows her husband at all. Decisions! Decisions!

ROBERT AND ANDY AT HOME IN BED -DAY

Andy- okayyy it’s not Carinas French toast but it’s the only thing I know how to make for breakfast.

Robert- It looks amazingggg. (Kissing Andy) then pulls her in for more.

Andy- Maya asked me to step in for her for the week.

Robert- step in?

Andy- As acting captain.

Robert- Doesn’t the department usually send a sub for bereavement leave?

Andy- well, due to COVID and stuff they said that one of the lieutenants could do it so she asked me!

(Robert becomes silent) and you’ve gone all quiet.

Robert- No, no, no(kisses Andy) it’s good. I’m happy for you!

Andy- yeah?!

Robert- Yes! You were made for this!

Andy- plus, it couldn’t hurt to be sleeping with the boss right?!

Robert-No special treatment just like when I was your captain.

Andy- well maybe a little special treatment! (Puts hand under the covers playing with his….em hem!)

(Andy’s POV)

Station 19- Night

Locker Room

Robert comes in while Andy is changing

Robert- Andy I have more experience than you. Decades more. It’s just.. Andy interrupts Robert.

Andy- Are you trying to help yourself here?

Robert- Can I finish? I have years under my belt. Okay. And I’m not using them on the job so I guess I thought I could use them to help you. Help you didn’t ask for I get it. *sighing* come on. I just need you to understand where I’m coming from.

Andy- look, I get that you hate being a probie. I hate you being a probie.

Robert- hey, hey. We found a common ground. Let’s just end this another way.

Andy- No, Robert we need to talk about this.

Robert: You’re only Captain for another shift and then Bishop comes back. Then this won’t be a problem anymore.

Andy: yeah, except I’ll still be your lieutenant and hopefully soon, one day after that a captain for real.

Robert: Not hopefully. you will.

Andy: Well, then this is a problem we need to solve.

Robert: well, is it a problem we need to solve tonight?

Andy: I guess not.

Robert gets up to finish taking out the trash and leaves the locker room as Andy looks complexed.

(Andy and Roberts POV)

The SULLIVAN’s Home - Bedroom- NIGHT

Later that night after work.

Andy tries to make an attempt to have the same conversation about him undermining her authority at work in the locker room.

Andy: Baby, *sighing* why do you have an issue with titles and your wife ranking higher than you?

Robert: babe, I thought we weren’t gonna try and solve this problem tonight?

Andy: I know but…. (Robert interrupts Andy by grabbing her and begins kissing her passionately and deep)

He begins to undress her while still kissing her passionately and seductively. Andy falls weak to her husbands advances and gives in. They move over to their bed and they begin to become intimate throughout the night.

A Few Weeks LATER….

Station 19- Day

Andy is in the beanery scoffing down sugary cereal with her hands when suddenly she was hit with a sudden feeling of nausea and started for the ladies room, while met with Travis on his way to the beanery.

Travis to Andy as they run into each other asks Andy if she’s okay.

Travis- oops! Sorry Herrera. Hey, you feeling okay?

Andy- it’s okay. Uumm, yeah! Just got to run to the ladies locker room for something.

Travis looks confused.

Ben and Robert are in the turnout room having a conversation while organizing gear and equipment.

Robert- You know being demoted was no ones fault but my own, but this is hard being a probie. I feel as though all my hard working years as a firefighter has gone to waste. I feel useless now.

Ben- Ey, look man I know it isn’t easy and hearing that you can work your way up seems like dead hope to you, but you’re not useless and despite what you might be feeling you are a great asset to,19. I mean you did help run it before.

Robert- You know I find myself reminiscing about my days back in Montana and how I miss the weather and my days there as Captain. You know I moved there after my wife Claire died.

Ben- Sounds like you’re missing Montana a lot. You thinking of going back there? Maybe a little getaway for you and the Mrs?

Robert- Nah, man haven’t given it much thought,to return there anytime soon but it has crossed my mind a time or two.

The fire alarm sounds. People stuck inside a burning house. Robert, Ben and the team rush to the location. Upon arriving Captain Bishop orders the team to get in for search and rescue inside the burning house. Everyone has been safely rescued except a neighbor realizes and informs Captain Bishop that a little boy is missing and that he could still be stuck inside. The team finds him with 3rd degree burns inside of a closet. Upon bringing him out the commander in chief orders Captain Bishop to wait for an aid truck to come and transport the little boy to Greys-Sloan Hospital, but Bishop goes against the Chiefs orders and orders her team to put him on the fire truck to the hospital instead. Now, Bishops job could be in jeopardy.

Andy and Sullivan were called into the chief commissioner’s office. After speaking with them he asked Sullivan to stay as Herrera walked out. Herrera stood by the door to listen in on the conversation.

Chief- Sullivan. Hold on a minute.(Herrera walks out)Have a seat. You appointed Bishop? What’s your take?

Sullivan- She’s a good captain sir. I basically raised her up myself.

Chief- But she’s gotten cocky. I’ve been hearing things. Taking her team to protests. Defying cops on the scene.

Sullivan-Well, those things are separate conversations…

Chief- But there both indicative of Bishop acting outside the balance of the Seattle Fire department. Ummm…. Your record…

Robert- yea Sir, I know I made mistakes. But I’m clean , sober, strong

Chief- we can’t afford anymore bad press for our first responders

Robert- No, we can’t. This team stood behind me when my job was on the line. They have my back and I have theirs. I can get this house in order sir. You do not want these fire fighters talking to the press saying that FD values protocol over their kids lives. You need someone who can reunite them and that someone is me. Plus with me you get a Battalion chief for the price of a Captain.

Andy hears what Sullivan says outside the door and walks away enraged.

The SULLIVAN’s home- Day

Maya’s Wedding Day

Andy walks into hers and Roberts bedroom and throws the covers on their bed after sleeping on the couch.

Robert- You really didn’t have to sleep on the couch you know.

Andy-The only reason I slept here and not at Maya’s is because it’s her wedding day and I don’t want her to know what you did. Not today.

Robert- What I did was save your job Andy!

Andy- This is not a discussion! This is not a discussion! Because today I am a maiden of honor and if we have a discussion I will say some things that are very very not maiden like or honorable!

Robert- This is absurd.

Andy- You don’t get to tell me what’s absurd. (Walks away …. Be there by 5!) slams door!

Two weeks later….

Andy is talking to Dean in the locker room area.

Dean- what’s up , kiddo? You okay? You look …

Andy- I know. I don’t look my best these days. I don’t feel like myself. I’m questioning everything including my marriage and if marrying Robert was such a great idea. I mean sure I married the man I love but I also married the man I love for the sake of my Dad having the opportunity to walk his only daughter down the aisle and give her away before his cancer took control which, in turn he didn’t die of but died saving his family. But after what ROBERT did… I’m, I’m just not… I don’t know what I’m trying to say.

(Robert overhears their conversation outside of the lockers.)

Dean-I’m probably not the best person to talk about this too. I’m not an expert or anything but it appears you two have issues communicating. My only advice is maybe seek therapy and talk it out. Maybe alone , then with Sullivan. My advice? Contact Dr. Diane Lewis and schedule a session with her. We all know she’s really good. I wish you both the best.

Andy- Maybe you’re right. I’ll sleep on it.

After Dean leaves and Robert slipped away so that Dean and Andy wouldn’t know what he had just heard between them. Robert looks really down and depressed because he has no one and the entire team, including his wife aren’t really talking to him.

A SUDDEN REVELATION

Suddenly Andy holds her stomach and runs off to the ladies locker room and pukes in the toilet. Afterwards, she brushes her teeth and swishes with mouthwash to get the nasty taste out of her mouth over the sink. Andy looks at herself and whispers under her breath, “Oh, no! I can’t be! Andy suddenly realized with everything that had been going on in her life from her family secrets, the loss of her dad and best friend to the underlying unresolved issues in her marriage that a few times she forgot to take her birth control pills. There have been plenty of times Andy and Robert were intimate without using any form of protection. Andy looks at her phone to check her app that keeps track of her monthly cycles and realized she was already a few weeks late! Andy hurries out to the nearest pharmacy to purchase a pregnancy test and heads back to the station.

POSITIVE RESULTS!

After taking two separate tests Andy discovers her worst fear of being pregnant! She is anything but thrilled about it as she never really saw herself being a mother or a wife of that matter. Also, with her marriage on the rocks she’s just not sure what her next steps are.

Takes phone out to schedule an appointment with Dr. Diane Lewis.

ANDY’S THERAPY SESSION WITH DR. DIANE LEWIS.

Dr Diane’s Lewis’s office- DAY

Dr. Diane- Welcome Andy.

Andy- HI. thank you for clearing your schedule to see me today.

Dr. Diane- Well, you seemed a bit distraught and troubled when I listened back to your voicemail. You seemed desperate. So, what seems to be your problem?

Andy- (blurts out) I’m not so sure marrying my husband was such a great idea!

Dr. Diane.- Why do you say that? It’s okay. You can say it. It’s strictly confidential.

Andy- I won’t go into details. Ever since Robert was demoted he hasn’t been himself. He thinks I’m ashamed of him because he was demoted to a probie. We don’t communicate. We substitute conversation for good sex to ease the tension of our unresolved issues. He did something to cause someone close to me lose her position just so he can climb back up to battalion chief as if that title defines him.. it’s … DR DIANE INTERRUPTS ANDY….

Dr. Diane- for someone who didn’t want to say too much you just said a mouthful.

Andy- maybe you were right. Maybe I’m with my husband cause he’s like a father figure or someone who could fill my fathers shoes as Battalion chief.

Dr. Diane- Do you love him? Are you in love with your husband?

Andy- I do love my husband and in love but as of late I’m questioning everything. All we do is work, argue and have good sex. That’s a recipe for a disastrous marriage. And, and I’m afraid I won’t be a good mom or end up just like my mother who, had postpartum depression, never wanted to be a mother or married. She only wanted to fight fires. (Andy touches her stomach)

Dr Diane- you’re afraid you won’t be a good mom? Are you expecting?

Andy- (hesitantly) yes. I just found out two days ago.

Dr. Diane- And let me guess. You’re not thrilled about it? Have you told your husband?

Andy- Not exactly. I haven’t told him yet. I realized when I found out my mother was alive and learning why she abandoned me and my father I realized I’m just like her. I was once proposed to by jack before meeting Robert and I remember distinctly telling him I didn’t want to be married or have a family. That I didn’t want something separate because the firehouse was my family and fighting fires and making captain was all that mattered to me. It’s like I’m mirroring my mothers life reincarnated. I never wanted any of this. Yet I’m afraid for him because I’m all my husband has.

Dr DIANE- Let me ask you this. Do you want to save your marriage or get out? Is it worth fighting for? How badly do you want this marriage?

Andy- I love my husband. There isn’t a doubt. I only regret how rushed our marriage was as we really didn’t get to do the dating phase to learn how to deal with each other’s past. I honestly wish we could have a do-over but right now I don’t have the energy to even speak with him. I’m pretty stubborn.

Dr. Diane- seems you’re carrying the burdens of your mother and the burdens of your husband. You’re worried about abandoning your baby and becoming like your mother. And you’re afraid of what possibly leaving your marriage behind due to what it may do to him. Andy, that is a quite a heavy load for one person to carry. I think it’s time you had another meeting with your mom and express these concerns to her so that you may get closure and more clarity on what it is you need to do concerning your life’s decisions.

Later as Andy leaves Dr. Diane’s office she heads back to the Station as she recognizes a familiar face…. Her Mother’s Elena. Andy looks taken a back.

Elena- Hello Mi hija .

Andy- What, what are you doing here? It’s really weird as I was thinking of calling you anyway.

Elena- you were? I, I just wanted to see how you were.

Andy- actually, not good. We need to talk. Let’s take a walk.

Scene intercuts to Robert packing a bag and highlights on his phone that he’s just purchased a ticket to Montana.

Andy and her mom Elena are sitting on a park bench discussing some very pressing matters that’s concerning Andy and the decisions she needs to make about her marriage and the growing little being inside of her.

Elena- what’s wrong Andrea?

Andy- I’m pregnant. Just found out a couple of days ago, my marriage is in shambles and my husband doesn’t know I’m pregnant yet.

Elena- you should be estactic!

Andy- yeah but I’m not.

Elena-why, why mija?

Andy- Because I’m just like you!! I never wanted to be married or become a mother! I guess the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree after all!

Elena- Then why did you marry him, Andy? Do you even love him?

Andy- Robert asked me to be his wife because he loves me and is in love with me, but we knew my Dad didn’t have long before his cancer would take its course on him so Robert and I got married really fast so that he could walk me down the aisle as one last memory of me and my Dad giving me away to Robert. And….yes I love him but I’m afraid I’m mirroring your life with my dad, who would suffer from mental illness, postpartum depression and won’t be able to bond with our child and leave them. What if I’m like you in that aspect? What if I inherited those same traits? but lately all we do is argue and have sex. We don’t communicate. We bump heads a lot. And his recent actions have me questioning if we should even remain married.

Elena- Andrea, considering the mistakes I’ve made what I’m about to say may not carry much weight to you but, from what your aunt Theresa has said about your husband he’s a really loving, caring and kind man and that he takes good care of you. If this is true, don’t make a permanent decision on temporary emotions or doubts. I know I don’t deserve to be in your life and I have no one to blame but myself, but you don’t have to be like me. You are not me. You have a loving heart and you need your husband. You need each other. And that baby you two made out of love need their parents just as much. I know I never said I was sorry but I am sorry nena for my selfish acts and leaving my child. You may not believe me but there were times of regret. Think this through. Talk to your husband. You don’t want to realize you made the wrong decisions and carry around regrets. It will haunt you Nena. It’s haunted me.

THE NARRATIVE

Andy thinks long and hard about what her mother shared with her and decides after their talk to pick up her phone and call her husband but he doesn’t answer and it goes straight to voicemail. Andy leaves a voicemail, then texts him so that he could get back to her sooner rather than later. Andy hasn’t been staying at home with Robert due to the marital issues they’ve been dealing with and has been couch hopping at Maya’s and at Deans. Meanwhile, Sullivan is on a plane to Montana to get away and clear his head. He feels alone at Station 19 and after hearing his wife’s thoughts and concerns about if marrying him was a mistake it broke his heart as he is afraid of losing the only good thing he has in his life and that’s his wife Andy. He couldn’t bare the thought of hearing his wife say to him that she wants a divorce. So, he packed up a bag and headed to Montana. Robert has no one in his life, no other family members that he’s close to or aware of. His only family is his wife. It’s two days later and Robert is on a plane and Any realizes her husband hasn’t returned any of her calls or messages and hurries on to the Station to see if he was there or to ask if anyone else has seen him. This was hers and Roberts day off so she couldn’t imagine why he wasn’t answering his phone. Andy runs into Vic and Travis and asks if they had seen her husband or if he had been by the station. They haven’t seen or heard from him. Vic asks Andy if everything is okay because she looked a bit flushed and frantic. Well, it’s been over 12 hours since I last contacted him and he hasn’t replied to any of my messages. Ben walks into the lobby where Andy, Vic and Travis are and asks what’s going on? Vic tells him how Andy is looking for Robert because he isn’t answering any of her messages and it’s been well over twelve hours since she contacted him with no avail. Andy asks Ben if he’s seen or heard from him and if he thought he’d have any idea where he would be or any strange behaviors with him. Ben tells Andy they had a brief conversation a few days ago and he seemed down in the dumps. Says he’s found himself reminiscing of his old life back in Montana back when he was Captain there. I asked him if he thought of taking the Mrs. well, you there for a little getaway and he said he hadn’t given that part much thought. Andy listens and softly says to the team that she had to go home and check into something and to please let her know anything if they hear anything from Robert.

ANDY DRIVES UP TO THEIR HOME.

Andy arrives at their home and quickly runs upstairs to their bedroom seeking Robert but he isn’t there and in their bedroom she finds his drawers open and begin looking though his old things to see if she can find any clues to where he could be. She soon finds old photos of him as a captain in MONTANA and spotted this photo of and a beautiful stow away cabin he would often resort to during get always or vacations Andy decided it was time for her to take a road trip to Montana to find her husband. In the back of her mind she’s thinking he may relapse because of everything that has transpired in their marriage and at work. Andy calls the station to tell them she’s gonna have to take off for a few more days to take care of a pressing matter and to please cover for her two two shifts. Andy packs a bag, hops in her car and heads for Montana. Before driving off, Andy takes the baby sonograms and places them in her cars glove compartment, takes a deep breath and starts for the road. The drive from Seattle to Montana is about a 10-12 hour drive. Andrea has been driving now for the past 5 hours straight. She’s tired and sleepy so she stops at a nice hotel for a nights stay and will pick up tomorrow and finish her trip to Montana. She grabs the sonogram from her gloves company, stares at it and takes it inside with her as she checks in to a room. She calls Robert one last time still with no avail of reaching him. She sent him another text and no reply still. So Andy settles in, takes a shower and climbs into bed with her baby sonogram on the night stand propped up next to her, while placing her hands on her now growing belly. Still in shock and hasn’t processed the reality that’s she’s pregnant. Andy is watching the tv but soon finds the tv is watching her as she soon dozed off.

THE NARRATIVE….

(Andy’s POV)

Andy is back on the road the next day headed for Montana and as she’s driving her mind wonders back to when she found out she was pregnant a few days ago and how Carina did a sonogram on her to see how the baby is and how far along she was. The baby’s heartbeat is fast and healthy. Andy begin to become emotional of the thought that a little being was growing inside of her. She had fears and all kinds of concerns because this pregnancy wasn’t planned and considering she’s never really wanted to become a mother just like her mom. Carina tells Andy she is about 6 in a half weeks along which shocked Andy but quickly explained her increasing appetite the past several weeks. Carina congrats her and Sullivan on their new addition and tells Andy to come back in six weeks for another check up on her and the baby. Andy comes back into her thoughts and stares at the sonogram in her right hand while the other hand is on the steering wheel. Andy has been driving a few hours now and should reach the address of the cabin she suspects her husband is staying at in about another hour and stops for gas and a nearby gas station and grabs a sandwich inside the store and a drink to carry her over till she arrives at the cabin. To keep from falling asleep Andy turns the radio up to keep her alert. Meanwhile, intercut to Robert settling in and laying up in his bed staring at pictures of him and Andy in happier times. He looks so lonely and broken and feels he no longer has anyone. Not even his wife whom he is so in love with. He puts the pictures down and breaks his thoughts of his wife to take a shower. He takes a nice long hot shower to release some stress and just stands under the shower allowing the water to fall off his head down his back. Meanwhile, Andy finally arrives at the cabin and quickly glances at the picture of the cabin she found in her husbands things back home in Seattle. Andy pauses for a moment before getting out of her car to approach the door, meanwhile, Robert is stepping out of the shower, drying off and wrapping his towel around his waist. Robert walks into the bedroom and suddenly hears a knock on the door. He grabs a shirt to throw on and sweats. He has no clue who it could be because no one would know him there except the owner who knew Sullivan back when he worked as captain back in the day in Montana. Robert creeps to the door to see who it is but it’s too dark too tell, so he cautiously opens the door to find a petite, fair-skinned and soft-spoken little lady standing before him, a little lady he calls his wife. It’s Andrea Herrera Sullivan. Robert has the the biggest , most shocking expression on his face to find his wife standing before him. Andy says hi to her husband and asks can she come in and he steps aside to let her in. Robert asks Andy what was she doing there and most importantly how did she find him?

Robert: Babe, what are you doing here? How did you find me?

Andy- That isn’t important right now. We need to talk.

Robert- I can’t live without you and if you came here to tell me you want a divorce I really can’t handle that right now.

Andy- What? A divorce? What makes you say that?

Robert- Andy, I overheard you talking with Dean in the lockers a few days ago. You’re doubting your decision to marry me. I panicked and took off. I have no one else. Everyone hates me and I just feel, that maybe I just don’t belong there anymore. I needed to come back to the one place I use to escape to when I was here and missing Claire —-this cabin.

(Andy grabs Roberts face and kisses him to assure him that everything is gonna be okay.)

Andy- baby, I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you when you tried to explain to me about Maya’s position. I soon learned it wasn’t what I thought and that there were other parts of the conversation you had with the chief commissioner I missed because when I heard you offer up to be battalion chief at the expense of Maya being relieved of her duties I instantly assumed the worse and questioned if this marriage was a mistake. I had a therapy session with Dr. Diane Lewis and my mom and they made me realize some things. That I shouldn’t make a permanent decision on temporary emotions or misunderstandings. I had time to think about it and I realized I had a lot of thinking to do and decisions to make and I knew I couldn’t make those decisions without my husband and the father of my child. Robert’s expression upon hearing the news was priceless. He asked, Are you….? Andy replies, yes! Robert is in shock! Are you serious? He asked. I’m gonna be a father?! Andy says yes! How far along are you? I’m about six in a half weeks along. (Shows Robert the sonogram)Robert exclaims, “this explains your sudden increase in appetite and your appetite for more sex! He picks Andy up and swings her around in excitement and they kiss! He asks Andy, “Does this mean we’re not getting a divorce?” Andy replies, “No, but if we want our marriage to strive and survive I suggest we continue having counseling and learning how to communicate and respect each other at home and in the work place and now as parents. I know having tough conversations are hard but we must if we want this marriage to have a fighting chance. Do you agree on this that our marriage does need work and to seek counseling? Robert, I’ll do anything to keep from losing my wife and baby. I’m sorry for undermining your authority. I was just so use to being in charge and lost my confidence after being demoted to probie. Andy replies, I understand that it was hard and I know you’re on your way back up, so hang in there. I love you, babe. Andy responds,” I love you too baby.

Robert- How do you feel about the pregnancy?

Andy- well, I’m nervous and I feel a bit uncertain.

Robert- uncertain? Why?

Andy- because we only briefly spoke about having a family and with everything going on in both our lives where we weren’t able to catch a break the conversation was never continued. Baby, I was afraid of ending up like my mother. I honestly never wanted to become a mother or a wife of that matter just like my mom, I had fears of having mental illnesses like her or not able to bond with our baby and abandoned her or him. But who would’ve thought that the most unlikely person in my mom would be the one person who gave me hope in my marriage?

Robert- God and life has a way surprising us. Robert screams, “I’M GONNA BE A FATHER”!!!!

Andy and Sullivan kiss and put on some music and Salsa dance together! 💃🏻🕺🏾

Days later Robert and Andy return to Seattle to tell the team they are expecting a baby and that Andy is nearly two months pregnant! Instantly, Maya claims godmother and Ben as the baby’s Godfather! Vic, Travis and the team plan for a baby shower. The Sullivan’s tells the gang to chill for a bit as the baby shower is a long ways off, but he understood everyone’s excitement to have another firehouse baby in the station and a playmate for little Pru! With all of the excitement Andy runs to the restrooms to puke! Morning sickness has been rough on her lately. I guess that’s typically how it is during the first trimester. Robert runs behind her to check on her. Oddly enough after Andy puked she asked her husband for pickles and bananas over vanilla ice cream!🤮 Clearly, his wife’s weird ravings are through the roof. The Sullivan’s are tired after a very long road trip back to Seattle and are headed home but before that Robert stops by a supermarket to get his wife all of the foods she was craving and then they headed home. Once they arrived home they went upstairs and Robert ran him and the Mrs. a hot bubble bath to sit and relax. Andy sat in front of him in the tub while Robert rubbed both his hands on his wife’s growing belly. He whispers to Andy, “We made this baby in love from our love” and I already love him or her so much. Robert takes Andy’s hand and kisses it and then kisses her neck. Andy, I know. We made a lot of love. A baby was sure to pop up at some point. Under her breath she whispers,”I love you, baby.”

THE NARRATIVE….

7 in a half months later Andy is at work on desk and phone duty while the team Ben and Carina is out on a call for an elderly woman whose blood sugar dropped and fainted as her eldest daughter found her lying on the floor unconscious when she called for aid-car and Robert, Dean, Vic and Travis are on the other side of town putting out a building fire for a local business. Intercut back to Andy at the Station 19 was answering a,phone call at the front desk when she said, “uh-oh! The person on the other line was calling for her to answer, but couldn’t because her water broke! Another worker behind her took the phone and hung it up and Called for the aid car to transport Andy to Grey-Sloan Hospital. On the radio they alerted the team that Andy went into labor and her Husband Robert heard it, panicked and rushed to Grey-Sloan Hospital to be with his wife! Luckily, the team was already on they’re way back after completing their duties. With Carina being Andy’s physician and gynecologist she rushed to the hospital as quickly as she could! Robert arrives in a panic asking what room his wife was in and rushed to be with her! He was the only one that could be in the room with her during labor. He rushed by her side as he entered into the room and said, “Baby, “I’m here”! Are you okay?! How far apart are the contractions?! Right now every 5to 6 mins. I had just had one before you burst in the room! Robert took his wife’s hand and kissed her lips and her forehead. Carina comes into the room ready to check Andy to see how many centimeters she is. Carina checks Andy and she is about 6 centimeters so not too long before baby is born! As Andy attempts to say something a contraction hits and Robert tells her to breath it out slowly. Carina says I’ll be back to check you in an hour and that in the meantime she should try to rest during that time. Robert ask Andy if there was anything she needed and she asked for a cup of ice chips because her mouth was dry. Andy was a soldier and didn’t want an epidural but wanted to give birth naturally. So, Robert went and got her a cup of ice chips. Meanwhile, the station 19 crew were all out in the lobby awaiting to hear the birth of Robert and Andy’s baby and what they’re having because they agreed early in the pregnancy that they didn’t want to know the gender and to be surprised. At their baby shower the crew threw for Andy they all bought baby neutral items and loads of diapers of different sizes and phases of the babies growth. They were set for life! The team caught Robert headed back up to Andy’s room and asked how she was doing. Robert replied, My wife is a trooper and is doing well! She didn’t even want to have an epidural! I’ll keep you all posted. The baby should be born tonight as Andy Is at 6 centimeters now! Robert yells , “I gotta go”! Don’t wanna miss a thing! Robert heads back to Andy’s room and shocked to see Carina back so soon with a couple of nurses. Andy Is progressing so fast towards birth. I guess the Pitocin sped up the contractions because She was now at 8 centimeters dialated! Robert quickly washes his hands and puts on his scrubs and rushes back in to help his wife bring they’re child into the world. Only two more centimeters to go and it’s push time! 30 minutes later Andy is pushing for the 3rd time and they hear they baby cry! Sullivan is over the moon and so proud of his wife! Carina announces , “IT’S A GIRL”!!! Weighing in at 6LBS 10 ounces and 21” long! She’s gonna be tall like her father! Welcome to the STATION 19 world baby “TAINA ANDREA HERRERA SULLIVAN”!! Robert is given the honor of cutting the umbilical cord of his new baby daughter! 5 minutes after their daughters birth Robert burst out to the lobby to shout, “ITS A GIRL”!! To the crew! Baby and Andy are doing well. She came in weighing 6 lbs 10 ounces and 21 inches long! We named her TAINA ANDREA HERRERA SULLIVAN!! You can hear 19 ooohing and ahhhing over the beautiful name they chose for their baby daughter! Congratulations to the new parents!

The End

BABY SULLIVAN-COMING SOON!

[bettsfic]

march pinned: ending the sex project

in the march edition of my lowkey writing-related newsletter, in addition to my writing-related post roundup and upcoming consultation availability, i have personal essay recommendations and a segment on the definition of a project!

for more information on my creative coaching services, check out my carrd.

if you want to receive my lowkey writing-related newsletter directly, you can subscribe here.

full newsletter below the cut, or you can read it here.

fuck february, amiright?

i thought january was bad. but february. february was the stuff of nightmares. my cousin passed away from covid (you can read about her here; she was really an amazing person and i feel so lucky to have known her). i was finally formally diagnosed with PCOS (bittersweet, i guess). my car broke down. i took two (2) days off and it took me two and a half weeks to get caught up again. i can only hope march treats us all a little more gently.

the good news is, i finished revisions on my short story collection to send to my agent, finished workshop submissions for the semester, and now i can return to my first love, fanfiction. that i am constantly working through original fiction to return to fanfiction has been making me think a lot about the nature of a creative, capital-p Project. so, this month’s BTALA (been thinkin a lot about) is going to inspect the concept of a “project.”

new resource

last month i unveiled a folder of my favorite short stories which i’m pleased to hear several of you have perused and gotten some inspiration from. this month i’ve compiled my favorite personal essays. there are fewer essays than there are short stories because i’ve broken them into two groups: personal and craft. next month i hope to have the craft essays compiled.

i’m always looking for more things to love, so if you have recommendations for your favorite short stories and essays, i’d be happy to hear them!

writing-related posts

how to physically maneuver the revision process

the difference between M and E ratings of fic

resources for worldbuilding (check out the reblogs for more!)

a couple syntax/prose book recs

how to break a long work into chapters

march availability

unfortunately i have to cut my coaching hours down a bit, so i don’t have any openings left in march, but i have some availability in april. if you’re interested in a writing consultation, please fill out this google form!

you can learn more about my services on my carrd.

what i’m into rn

for the past year, i’ve basically been trapped in a 10x10 room, and my health is definitely reflecting that, both mentally (does anyone else feel like they’re living in groundhog day? just, every day being exactly the same except fractionally worse than the day before??) and physically (i reorganized the kitchen and could barely move for two days).

reader, i have discovered something called “walking,” in which i put on real human shoes and go outside. it feels strange, bestial. neighbors wave hello to me. a harrowing experience.

while doing this, this walking, i’ve been listening to the lolita podcast which a friend recommended to me, a ten-episode series that dives into everything lolita: the novel itself, its context, adaptations, greater cultural responses, and — as a sticker on my laptop says — vladimir “russian dreamboat” nabokov. as far as i can tell it seems well-researched and presents the many perspectives of lolita in a fair way. i’m only a few eps in, but i’m entranced so far. highly recommended if you, like me, have a complicated relationship with lolita.

i’ve also found myself mildly addicted to a mobile otome game called obey me, which. look i know it’s like the definition of cringe but it’s also mind-numbingly fun and if i want to spend my minimal free time pretending 7 demon brothers are all vying for my affection then that’s between me and god. it’s a lot of what i loved about WoW: frequent events, bright colors, a daily to do list of simple but satisfying tasks, many many rewards, and it doesn’t take itself very seriously. and if i have 4k fic written of mammon/reader that’s nobody’s business but mine and my longsuffering ao3 subscribers.

i’m telling you this because i don’t know anyone else who plays it and am desperate to trade headcanons. so if you play, or start playing, hit me up!! i will give u mad tips and daily AP.

been thinkin a lot about

the project. the project. even the word “project.” PROject (noun). proJECT (verb). what is the project? “project” comes from the latin pro and jacare which means “to throw forward,” or projectum which means “something prominent.” a projector throws forward an image. to project onto something means to throw your perspective onto something else. to embark on a project is to make something prominent in your life. the concept of “the projects” comes from public housing projects, the government throwing forward affordable housing.

what is the project? in joseph harris’ essay “coming to terms” he says that “to define the project of a writer is…to push beyond his text, to hazard a view about not only what someone has said but also what he was trying to accomplish by saying it.” harris’ perspective is that of an english teacher encouraging his students to read critically, not just to summarize a text but to find its project, its greater purpose. and while i first read this essay in a seminar on composition pedagogy, it stuck with me as a writer. it made me reconsider the greater nature of the creative project.

how many of us, if asked to describe our writing project, would begin with a plot or character premise, the nuts and bolts of a specific story? maybe even the working title? but i wonder, is breaking out the plot really the project? is the discipline of sitting down and typing really the project? and when the story is finished, is the project over? what is the project?

in 2019, i wrote 86k words of a novel. i began revising that novel last fall, and i’m finding that i’ll probably keep maybe less than 10k of that initial draft. i’m not bothered by that. the novel i wrote before that started at 125k, then i rewrote the entire thing to 200k, then i whittled it back down to 160k, and next i’ll be tasked with paring it back down to 80k. i’m not bothered by that either. in the past five years or so i’ve written about 2 million words, and i’ve only published 20k of them. only 1% of what i’ve written, i’ve published. in the words of lauren cooper (catherine tate), i’m not bothered.

i used to see publication as the birth of the project, and writing it akin to a long gestation period. then i saw publication as the death of the project, and its life was lived in its drafting. now, publication seems irrelevant to the project. the confines of a story and its many revisions are also irrelevant to the project. the beginning of a story is not the start of the project and the end of the story is not the end of the project. the project is larger than the story, its revisions, its publication, and its eventual readership.

i think it took me so long to see this because for so many years i was still in my first project, the sex project, an exploration of trauma and sexual identity, which began in 2014 with destiel fanfiction, endured through many fandom shifts, my MFA, years adrift as an adjunct, all the way through 2020 with the completion of my short story collection. i used to wonder how anyone could write about anything other than sex. to me it was the only topic worth my attention. i was certain that i would spend my entire life being a sex writer and i’d never find fulfillment writing a young adult sci fi adventure or a highly literary novel about complicated family dynamics. i was baffled by people who were interested in other things, who could write entire novels without using the word “cock” even once.

then my sex project ended. i don’t know when exactly it happened or why, but suddenly i realized i never wanted to write another artful description of an orgasm or find a tactful euphemism for a vagina ever again (personally i prefer “wet cunt” because not only is it blunt, i find it phonetically pleasing). obviously i’m still writing explicit fanfic but it doesn’t feel the same as it used to. sex feels more sidelined to me, even if it’s still the center and drive of a fic. i no longer get any personal satisfaction from writing it, although i do get satisfaction in sharing the work for readers to enjoy.

it’s like i’ve somehow solved the biggest puzzle of my life. or i guess made peace with my meanest monster, that extremely complicated double-mind of desire that some non-sex-repulsed asexuals feel: you want to feel desire you can’t actually feel so you write it into fiction, to try to understand this thing you can’t have and which society tells you you’re missing, and you don’t even know if you don’t have it, because you still feel desire for affection and intimacy, and maybe even a desire to be desired. and for those of us who are asexual and have c-ptsd, sex you don’t actually want (but don’t know you don’t want, because maybe you’re ambivalent and mildly curious and touch-starved) and an unrelenting drive toward people-pleasing can be a dangerous combination. how can you ever know what consent is if you always put other people’s desires above your own?

maybe i’m alone in this. maybe i’m not. maybe for most people, wanting sex is a light switch: yes i want it, or no i don’t. but for me, i had to write a whole lot of words to figure out things like desire, consent, intimacy, forgiveness, the shape that good love takes. the lengthy theoretical flowchart of “i might be interested in having sex if this and this and this and this and this happens in this exact order and under these exact circumstances.”

it was hard to write something into reality that i have never seen except in pieces, in subtext i clung to with no lexicon to give it shape and meaning. te lawrence in lawrence of arabia. some of tarantino’s early work. the film benny and joon. and weirdly, the star wars prequels (that one’s hard to explain; i’ll spare you). i don’t think the sex project was about coming to terms with my asexuality as much as it was trying to organize my thoughts and feelings by continuously rendering my own experiences within a greater, shinier ideal — like how you sometimes have to unravel the entire skein of yarn to find the loose end, and only then can you get started.

i guess i’m in the infancy of the power project now. i’m moving toward themes of control, infamy, greatness. the exact circumstances in which atrocity occurs. how people rise into leadership and fall from grace. the consequences of success. i don’t know why this project has come to me, or what, if anything, it has to do with me. i’m not famous and have no intention of becoming famous; i don’t have social power or influence, at least not beyond my little corner of fandom, and i’m not interested in having it. and yet, here we are, already hundreds of thousands of words in.

my fics digging for orchids (tgcf) and a standing engagement (the hunger games) deal with the detriments of fame. and even float (breaking bad) to a degree is about the aftermath of being so close to power. my novel cherry pop, loosely based on macbeth, is about an ongoing power exchange between two teenage girls. my other novel, vandal, is about a girl who believes she has magic powers and casts a spell on her neighbor to fall in love with her. and i’m in the very early stages of a novel called groundswell, a cult story i’ve been wanting to write for years. i had no idea why i couldn’t write it until i realized it wasn’t yet my project. i’m not even to the stage of developing characters, let alone a premise or plot. i’m still just building my aesthetic pile (i discuss the aesthetic pile here, as well as vandal in more detail), watching documentaries on cults, reading books, finding inspiration, marking down ideas as they come. it may be years before i’m ready to sit down and write it.

now that i know what the project is, i have more patience with myself. it doesn’t bother me to rewrite a novel from the beginning, or to scrap novels altogether, because the story isn’t the project. the project cannot be diminished by cutting words, sentences, paragraphs, entire chapters. the project does not have a product. the project cannot be published. the project is in the practice, in dragging the impossibly large into clear, acute existence, so you can see it. so you can see the very center of what you thought was an unknowable thing.

[letterboxd]

The Other Bill and Ted.

As No Man of God hits theaters and VOD following its Tribeca premiere in June, director Amber Sealey talks to Dominic Corry about her Ted Bundy two-hander and answers our Life in Film questions.

Amber Sealey has been very acknowledging of the fact that her new film is one of many to center around the horrific crimes of serial rapist and murderer Ted Bundy. As she outlined in her Tribeca Q&A with Letterboxd, one way she intended No Man of God to stick out from the pack was through the use of consciously silent background characters who represent Bundy’s voiceless victims.

The structure and source of the film also help distinguish it from other Ted Bundy movies: No Man of God is based on the recordings of FBI agent Bill Hagmaier (played in the film by Elijah Wood), who was tasked with interviewing an incarcerated Bundy in the years leading up to his execution, in order to help determine whether or not he was criminally insane, which could’ve helped to remove Bundy from death row.

With many of Bundy’s victims never officially attributed to the killer, Hagmaier also sought to draw confessions, and something resembling remorse, out of Bundy, to help bring closure to those victims’ families. As detailed in the film, much of which was taken directly from transcripts of the interviews, Bundy and Hagmaier’s relationship was complicated, and the intimacy that develops between them informs No Man of God in often uncomfortable ways.

Luke Kirby and Elijah Wood in a scene from ‘No Man of God’.

Wood (also a producer on the film) and Luke Kirby turn in career-high work as Hagmaier and Bundy, respectively, while Sealey textures the film with some of the most emotive stock-footage montage sequences this side of The Parallax View. Among positive reactions to the film, Claira Curtis, in a four-star review, writes: “Perhaps one of the most successful elements lies in Amber Sealey’s uncentering of the ‘genius’ moniker that has followed Bundy through his years of infamy.” On the pairing of Wood and Kirby in the leading roles, Connor Ashdown-Ford notes that “the chemistry between them both is so authentic it’s darn right unsettling”.

Unsettling is right. Late in the film, Sealey depicts a real-life TV interview that took place between Bundy and evangelical preacher/​author/​psychologist James Dobson (played by stalwart character actor Christian Clemonson), who uses Bundy to forward his anti-pornography agenda. Throughout this scene, the camera lingers on a young female member of the TV crew (played by an uncredited Hannah Jessup) as she silently reacts to being in Bundy’s presence. Emblematic of Sealey’s aforementioned philosophy in constructing the film, it’s a moment that appears to be having an impact on audiences, as detailed in Nolan Barth’s review: “She might have one of my favorite performances of this year? She shows us fascination, guilt, disgust and fear in like only 30 seconds of screen time. Give her an Oscar. Please.”

In an awkward incident that represents a perhaps unanticipated effect of there being so many contemporaneous movies with the same subject matter, director Joe Berlinger (Metallica: Some Kind of Monster, the Paradise Lost trilogy), who recently directed both the Zac Efron-starring scripted Ted Bundy biopic Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil and Vile and the documentary Conversations with a Killer: The Ted Bundy Tapes, sent an email to Sealey ahead of No Man of God’s Tribeca premiere about remarks she had made while discussing how her film differentiated itself from the existing Ted Bundy movies. He felt she had accused him of glorifying Bundy. After Sealey took the exchange public, she explained to Variety that she had never singled out Berlinger’s films in any of her remarks.

In a conversation with Letterboxd, Sealey delves into her approach to No Man of God, and talks about some of her filmic inspirations.

‘No Man of God’ director Amber Sealey.

There is really effective and creepy use of stock-footage montages in this film. Sometimes you see that sort of thing at the beginning of a film, but it’s interesting that you keep going back to them after using them in the opening credits. What was the thinking in using those montages and how did you select the footage? Amber Sealey: The thinking for those was a couple things: One, we don’t leave the prison, and I wanted [the audience] to know a little bit what’s going on outside, in terms of the cultural zeitgeist, like what’s the tone of the time? What movies are popular? What books are popular? What are people wearing? I wanted to have there be a kind of cultural touchstone outside of the prison, but at the same time I wanted it to represent potentially a little bit of what was going on inside Bill’s mind. So the story of the montages as they go on, it gets a little bit more fucked up, for lack of a better word, for Bill, inside of his head.

We were originally going to shoot the crowd scenes [of protesters outside the prison] and recreate them and then because of Covid restrictions, we couldn’t do that anymore. So then I knew we were going to be using archival footage for the crowd, and I didn’t want the archival crowd footage to suddenly jump out as being so different from the rest of our film. We’re shooting on an ARRI camera, [so it’s] not going to look like a Hi-8 from the 1980s. I needed to incorporate this look, this ’80s grainy look into the rest of the movie so that it feels like it’s part and parcel of the film, part of the storytelling.

We got [the footage] in different ways. I have an old friend that I’ve known since I was like, two, he lived next door to me, and my cousin, they both had video cameras in the ’80s and would film everything. So some of that footage is old family footage of their family or friends. There’s a couple shots in there of my neighbors when I was growing up. Then some of it, we did a lot of research on [stock-imagery services] Getty and Pond5, just finding archival footage that we could use that really told the story that we wanted to tell with the montages. It was a lengthy process finding all of that footage for sure.

What was Bill Hagmaier’s involvement in the film? Bill is an executive producer on the film, so he was very involved. The transcripts of those conversations between Bill and Ted, we got from Bill. Bill gave us so much great stuff to work with—the newer FBI files that he was allowed to share with us and the recordings, and when the script was originally written it was written based off of those recordings, and the writer originally spoke to Bill and then when I came on board, I talked to him and then I changed the script, even more from conversations I had with him. He was just a resource.

Almost every [character] you see on screen, those are real people, and he hooked us up with a lot of those real people. I spoke with the prison guards and the wardens and all of that. Then he was just a resource in terms of like, I would ask him, “what color were your shoes?” “Did you carry this kind of briefcase or that kind of briefcase?” Because it was important to me that all that production-design stuff was really authentic. I liked to know, like, “what were your haircuts like then, Bill?” So he was available to talk about the emotional side of things, and then the real just humdrum kind of things. He’s just a lovely guy, he’s really supportive of me and of the film and he just wanted to be accessible as much as he could and he was. He’s a very humble, generous person.

Aleksa Palladino plays civil-rights attorney Carolyn Lieberman to Luke Kirby’s Ted Bundy.

What films did you watch, or cite as reference points in preparation for No Man of God? Literally hundreds and hundreds of movies. When I’m looking for my creative look, I just watched so many films, and a lot of old films. I’d have to go back and look at my look book to tell you all of them but I pull images from the weirdest places. But once I get past figuring out the creative look of the film, I don’t then like to watch the movies a lot because I try to really make it its own thing and I worry too much that I’ll be copycatting other artists and I want to try [to] avoid that.

What’s your favorite true-crime movie? Oh god, what was the one about the guy who like, went to the bathroom and confessed, accidentally? He forgot his mic was on? Do you remember that one?

The Jinx? Yeah. Even though it’s a documentary, I’m going to go with that.

What’s your favorite big-screen serial-killer performance? It has to be Luke Kirby. Luke Kirby as Bundy.

What was the first horror film you saw? My dad had me watch Cat People when I was nine. Does that count?

The Val Lewton one? The ’80s one.

Oh, the Paul Schrader one? Yes! The Paul Schrader one.

Nastassja Kinski in Paul Schrader’s ‘Cat People’ (1982).

When you were nine years old? Yeah. I also watched Blue Velvet when I was nine. Oh wow, thank you Dad.

What’s the most disturbing film you’ve ever seen? Most disturbing, hmm… Kids.

What film made you want to become a filmmaker? It was Michael Winterbottom’s Nine Songs. My first film was a reaction to that movie. I’m a huge Winterbottom fan. That’s a great movie, but also it advertises itself as being a real relationship and real sex and I watched it and I was like, well that’s not like any… it was like two models, you know? Their sex scenes were like a perfume ad and I was like, well that’s not what real sex looks like for real people. I made my first feature after that.

What’s your go-to comfort movie? Oh, so many, let’s think. The Proposal. I love Trainwreck. I really like rom-coms, like if I’m sick or something, I’ll watch rom-coms. Roman Holiday, stuff like that.

What’s a classic that you couldn’t get into or that you think is overrated? Umm. Star Wars. I’m trying to think, there’s something else that I just don’t like… everyone loves that singing movie. What’s that singing movie that when Moonlight won the Oscar, it got announced?

La La Land. Yeah. I was not into that.

What filmmaker living or dead do you envy/admire the most? Yorgos Lanthimos. Or Phoebe Waller-Bridge.

If you were forced to remake a classic movie, what would you remake? Grease.

Who would be in the cast of your Grease remake? Oh I don't even know but it would be much darker. It would still be a musical and still be funny, but much darker.

I would like to see that movie. I would too.

Related content

Diego’s list of films featuring the FBI

Boris1980’s list of films about serial killers

Follow Dominic on Letterboxd

‘No Man of God’ is in theaters and on VOD from August 27, 2021.

[freetobcubed]

For Louis

I wrote this story for a competition. Not even an honorable mention, which I’ll be honest, is a stab in the heart because I really poured my soul into this one. Better luck next time, I guess, but here’s the story:

The notebook’s small and faded. The little thing is speckled with dust and the spine is bent to a near-ninety-degree angle except where it’s belted shut with a shoelace. I shouldn’t care; there are real books in the yard sale, books that aren’t falling apart. But I’m curious. Why bother to keep basically scraps?

I throw the thing on top of my pile of books. The eighty cents will come from the money I’ll make selling the others online. I pay for my loot and load it into the trunk of my ’93 Pontiac. I stop, snag the notebook, and tuck it into my coat with my COVID mask.

On my drive home, I get stopped at this intersection that’s seen an accident. Annoyed, but with nowhere to be, I throw the car in park and pull the little black book out. I try the knot in the shoelace with my fingernails before realizing it’s just loose enough to slide off.

Twelve hundred-dollar bills kerflumph into my lap.

I choke. My mind spins as I cough; what in the world? That’s a grand. Where—do I have to return it? How—

No, I don’t have to return it, I reason as I finish spluttering. Nervously, subconsciously, I glance at the cops in the intersection. They aren’t even aware that I exist. Besides, I paid for the notebook. It’s not my fault that that girl didn’t know.

Feeling slightly better, I open the notebook. Three more hundred-dollar bills fall out.

No way.

I flip the notebook around. Peeking out between stained pages are more bills. One per page. I do a quick calculation in my head.

“That’s twenty thousand dollars,” I say aloud, stupefied. That’s insane. Thoughts tumble through my head: riding in an airplane to Europe. Paying my overdue rent. Do I have to pay taxes on this? Amazon, and the things I saved there for “someday.” A full cart at Walmart.

Unsure what else to do, I start to read.

“June 9, 1983

Today I am a dad. I’m a dad! Louis is so small, so perfect, so… what do you say about a baby? It’s all been said before. But this is my baby. My son. He has tiny toes and he eats until it hurts Marie (and then some.) I’m looking forward to playing catch and eating burgers together, and then I stare down at the blanket-bundle and tears fill my eyes because he’s here, he’s real, and he is mine. Ours. Marie’s and mine. My boy. My son.”

“Hey!” I glance up, the words of the book and the words of the cop waving me forward blending in my brain because twenty thousand dollars is still swirling around up there too. I put the Pontiac in drive, my left hand trying to cover the fortune in my lap just in case the officer looks through the window.

I race home. I stuff the bills in my pocket, worrying about neighbors. I try to walk normally, but I feel shifty. Nervous. I run through my crappy apartment, then dump the money onto my bed, triple-checking that I’ve gotten every bit out of my pockets.

Then I flip the book, pinching the spine, and wag the pages.

A rain of cash descends to the quilt Mom made for me. Mom. Mom could use a hundred bucks. I suppress the generosity. This money is mine now, and I definitely need it. Mom will be okay.

I’m tired. I climb into the unmade bed, careful not to knock the bills onto the floor where they could vanish under the bed or the laundry, and I read again.

“July 4, 1983

Louis’ first Independence Day. He doesn’t care, except when the neighbors set off fireworks that woke him. I’m not sure if the baby or Marie was more upset, but Louis screamed more. I decided this journal is for when he graduates high school; I put a hundred dollars in the back. It’s more than we can afford, but this is our son. And I can always take the money back out, I guess. I just wanted to say: I love you, son. I’m already proud of you, and you’re just a little lump on the floor.”

Something in me twitches. I don’t think my father ever said he was proud of me, even when I was—what was it? I glance back at the page. A little lump.

“December 25, 1983

It’s been a little while since I wrote for you, son. Work has been… insane. You’re rolling now. I saved another hundred for you, tucked it in the back with the other one. I’m sorry you’re not getting much this Christmas, but we’re doing our best, and as your mom points out, you don’t care. Not this year.

January 1, 1984

Happy New Year, Louis!

You’re almost seven months old. Hard to believe. You’re nearly ready to sit on your own, and even better—your mom is getting past the baby blues. It’s nice to get my wife back. Don’t feel bad, son, but it’s been hard. I always said I wanted two kids, but now I hope you’re okay with being an only child.

If I could convince you to sleep, that would be something—though it’s nice to cuddle you in the rocking chair at night. Your mom gets you most of the time—boy, you eat a lot!—but after you’re done, I take you and we rock. Sometimes I sing. You won’t remember me singing, because I don’t do it where adults can hear, but for now, you seem to like Dad’s rusty voice. Who knows? Maybe you’re knocking yourself out so you don’t have to listen anymore. I‘d understand.”

My phone rings, and I jump, searching around for it with one hand.

“Hello?”

“Tim? It’s Grandma.” I know. But telling Grandma that won’t keep her from identifying herself on the phone or signing her texts.

“Hi,” I respond, unsure what Grandma wants.

“Are you going to come change my lightbulbs today?”

Crap. I was. Mom has been haranguing me to help Grandma, guilting me with the idea of an old lady living alone, in quarantine, in the dark. Stupid COVID—normally, Grandma’s neighbors change the lightbulbs and stuff, but she’s been insisting to Mom that I need to do it now. As if a pizza delivery guy has less germs than her work-from-home neighbor. Whatever.

“Sorry, Grandma.” I find my keys. “I’ll be over in half an hour.”

“What, dear?”

“I’ll be over in half an hour!” I all but shout into the phone. Then I hang up before she can babble at me. I look at the money; my room is private, but my roommate is nosy. I go to the kitchen and, after hunting in the cupboard, come up with an almost-empty bread bag. I hurry back to my room, eating the last slice, and stuff the money inside.

Bring it or hide it? I consider for a minute. Finally I throw the bag and the notebook into my pocket.

I climb into my car. Grandma’s house is ten minutes away and I have twenty—oops. I pull out the notebook. Suddenly, it hits me—the money was still inside. What happened to Louis? How did the yard sale lady end up with the notebook, and the twenty grand?

I check the inside front cover, find an address. Finch Drive isn’t even that far away--I verify with my GPS.

I don’t even know what I’m hoping. It’s been, what, almost forty years since Louis was born? I open the notebook again, this time to the last page.

“February 18, 1999

I’m sorry, son. I’m sorry I’m going to miss so much. Your high school graduation. Your college graduation. Your wedding, your children. I was excited. I think you were too.

And you won’t really remember who I was. I mean, we have a lot of great memories together. Lots of catch and burgers. But we’ll never have an adult-to-adult relationship, and I’m really, really sad about that.

In a selfish way, I hope you’re sad too. I hope you miss me. Is that terrible? Anyway, I guess the best I can do is leave you with some advice.

Be a good person, Louis. You’re a good kid. Take care of your mom. Heck, take care of my mom. Be smart. Be hardworking. But most of all, be kind.

I love you, kid.

-Dad

P.S. Cancer is the pits.”

I stare at the last few words. “Cancer is the pits.”

I can’t do it. I can’t leave Louis hanging. I turn the car on, head to Finch Drive. Knock.

A lady answers. She’s 60-something.

“Are you Marie? I’m sorry—I totally forgot my mask.”

“Yes, I’m Marie.”

She’s puzzled, I can see it in the top half of her face, the only part showing. Funny, I thought somehow that she‘d be blonde, like Mom.

“I found this,” I say, holding out the journal. “It belongs to Louis. From his dad.”

She gasps as she looks down, and a tear splatters onto the cover. One more spot among dozens.

“I—how—”

“And, um,” I’m not sure how to explain, so I pull the bread bag out. “This was in the pages. It’s for you. Or, for Louis.

“Is he okay? Louis?”

She nods mutely, her shaking hand moving up to take the little black notebook. She doesn’t even look at the money, just stares at the book. I realize I never replaced the shoelace.

“He’s actually here.” She turns. “Louis!” A guy pops out a second later. His hair is dark and messy, like Harry Potter’s.

“You okay, Mom?” He asks. She nods. He squints at me, like he’s trying to decide if I made his mom cry on purpose.

“Your dad wrote that for you,” I say, waving a hand at the notebook Marie clutches. “And he left this.”

“My—” Louis stops talking as he realizes that the bread bag is full of money. A bread bag full of dough, I realize silently, trying not to laugh. “My dad?”

“I found the book at a yard sale. With the money inside. I read some of it—sorry.”

“It must have been in what I donated,” Marie says with a sniffle. “This young man—” She pauses, looking at me.

“Tim,” I supply.

“Tim. You brought Dennis home to us.”

“Dennis?” I blink a few times.

“My dad,” Louis says, and I nod idiotically.

“I didn’t consider his first name—I just thought of him as “Louis’ dad.” I mutter.

“He’d have liked that.” Marie smiles under her mask.

“Well, thanks,” I say, and hold the bread bag out again.

“’Thanks’?” Louis asks. “Thank you,” He stares at the bag. “Can I give you some of that? A finder’s fee? Times are tough.”

I swallow, and it comes down hard.

“Nah,” I say, and I fake a smile.

“But—” Louis’ eyes find the Pontiac.

“I got this,” I say. “I’m alright. Besides, your dad saved that for you.”

Louis nods, takes the bag, and puts his arm around his mom.

“Thank you, Tim. Really. I wish you’d known my dad.”

“He loved you,” I say. “Read the book. You’ll see.”

Louis stares.

“I know he did,” he answers. I smile for real; Louis was lucky. I nod, uncomfortable, then turn and walk down their porch steps. I don’t hear the door close.

Maybe I’m lucky too, I realize as I get back in the car. I’ve got Mom. I’ve got Grand—

Shoot.

I pull out my phone. I’m fifteen minutes late for lightbulb duty. I hit my recent calls and start the car while the phone rings.

“Tim? Are you alright?” Grandma’s voice is strained; she’s worried.

“I’m fine. It’s a long story.”

“You can tell me about it. Maybe…” she pauses. “Maybe over lunch?”

“Sounds great, Grandma,” I say. “I’ll be there in ten.”

Thanks if you read the whole thing. It’s dumb, but I could use some Internet-stranger validation on this one. If you feel like reading it in the original doc (I get like 1/3 of a cent from the site if you do,) it’s here: https://vocal.media/stories/for-louis

All the best. Over & Out.

[shintorikhazumi]

A Real Girl Chapter 3: Holiday Blueprints- er Misprints?

A/N: Hello!!! Took too long to update as I always do, it seems. I’m sorry about that. Just had really bad writer’s block lately. Unexpectedly did some SayoLisa things while I was gone. I baked a crap ton of cookies lately, around 100 pieces to give to neighbors for the holidays. I even ended baking while waiting for the new year haha. Also bought a new guitar since I left my old one back at my uni when I came home during the COVID lockdown back in May due to travel difficulties, and I was starting to really want to play. My fingers hurt like hell yesterday and the day before coz I might have overdone it after not touching a guitar for nearly 7 months. Anyways, Happy Holidays everyone, and Happy New Year!

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

  A Real Girl Chapter 3: Holiday Blueprints- er Misprints?

You’d think that being something of a…robot (Sayo wasn’t sure if that was what she was, but she supposed you could call her that) would make her quite efficient with measurements and weights, and allow her to smoothly function in fields requiring such processes. However, as she leaned in impossibly close to her liquid measuring cup, pouring at a drop-per-hour to ensure she had the exact amount she needed, well… that pretty much denounced that assumption.

At least she could accredit some of her stiffness to Imai Lisa who currently had taken seat on a high stool across from where Sayo was, both elbows rooted on the small kitchen island of her home, head nestled in her hands as she stared at Sayo with an amused grin, the usual playful twinkle in her eyes. When given such undivided attention, wouldn’t you want to hide from the pressure of such a gaze? Thus, Sayo thought it would be best to avoid Lisa’s eyes altogether, and pour all her focus on the melted butter she was pouring into a bowl at an incredibly painful rate, hoping it would bore Lisa and make the girl do something besides burning Sayo with her gaze.

It didn’t work.

She shifted her gaze to Yukina, hopeful to find any semblance of help, but Yukina was just as much of a pain as Lisa was being, sprawled across the couch, flat on her belly, with her eyes pointed to Sayo in an unwavering stare.

She internally sighed as she returned to accomplishing her current task, moving on to another step, doing her best to ignore Lisa and Yukina in a casual manner while not seeming too cold, and give the wrong impression that she disliked them. Fun fact: She did not. If anything, she might like those two a little too much. So, now she just had to express just that. How she’d accomplish it? She didn’t know. She just hoped she could.

Mixing in the final needed ingredient which was a mix of chocolate chips and shards, Sayo smiled in satisfaction, sneaking a bite of one of the chocolate pieces, the action not escaping Roselia’s bassist as the string members’ eyes met, Lisa giving Sayo a shit-eating grin that just screamed, ‘gotya’.

Sayo simply rolled her eyes at that, thankful that Yukina was no longer paying attention to their wordless little exchanges; but she still felt that now familiar warmth in her cheeks as she turned away, choosing to search for an icecream scoop for her dough, instead of silently battling out of her embarrassment with Lisa. Upon finding the utensil, she began lining her balls of goodness along a baking sheet with parchment paper, making sure they had enough space between them to not touch as they baked.

She nodded in approval as she finished two trays worth, popping them in the cleared space in Lisa’s fridge to let them cool and develop their flavor.

“Nice work, Sayo~” The homeowner hummed, beckoning the said girl closer by opening her arms wide. Sayo was still getting used to it, but Roselia had very obviously increased their skinship acts as of late; hugs, cuddles, and handholds being thrown around far more than they used to.

And then there was the occasional kiss to the forehead or cheek, usually just between the other four, as Sayo still felt uncomfortable with that particular act. The few times she had received it from someone other than Hina was during a particularly fruitful tutoring session with Ako where the small girl was overjoyed as she shoved her recent report card in Sayo’s face, jumping up and down in excitement, before lunging over and planting a small kiss on her cheek.

It surely shocked them both, but they eventually got past it and continued on like normal. The other time was with Poppin Party’s Toyama Kasumi. That wasn’t as unexpected as most would think as the girl had probably hugged and kissed more than half of the school’s populace. It was only a matter of time before she got to Sayo.

And thus, these little gestures were something Sayo was (very, very) slowly getting used to. Sure, she would usually state if she did not want to…participate… in such activities; but more often than not, she did not necessarily oppose the idea, however it never ceased to be embarrassing for someone like her. It was a matter of tolerance? Resilience? Possibly with how Sayo struggled to keep a normal temperature each time.

Her parents had to issue her a stronger coolant with how often she’d been overheating. She was surprised they seemed prepared for this development, overhearing her father mutter a, “I expected the heat flushes with how we planned it out, but I didn’t expect it to be this bad. Well, whatever!”. Sayo admitted the fact that this bodily reaction was an intentional installment made her feel annoyed.

Walking around from the opposite side of the island, Sayo reached Lisa, halting just in front of her, hesitant for a moment’s worth before allowing herself to indulge in Lisa’s motherly spoiling. Immediately, after stepping into the space of those arms, she was engulfed in a tender warmth, arms squeezing just the right pressure of tight, yet not overbearing.

Sayo leant down to rest her forehead on Lisa’s shoulder, that cinnamon powder scent calming her in a way she could not describe. A hand made its way into teal locks, twirling and playing with the ends of her hair before travelling upwards to massage her scalp. It made her sigh in relaxation.

If there were things she loved about her body system that she’d never admit, one of those things would be the nature of her senses. She wondered if this was what it actually felt like for real people. This heart-fluttering, yet calming sensation. Pleasant. Feelings… that made you want to smile and, entrust and rest your heart in the palm of someone you loved.

Sayo wondered how Lisa felt about all of this. Was she simply doing it out of habit as she coddled all the other members, and even some of her friends? Did it also make her feel this sense of… what Sayo detected in herself… so-called happiness? Did it please her when Sayo allowed her this opportunity to be so close to her? Or was Sayo the only one fretting about all of this? Worried whether or not she was stepping over lines, or hurting someone every other moment, or offending the people she cared about if she chose to do or not to do certain things that were supposedly of ‘normal’ nature.

Before Lisa could consume her every thought, a weight pressed against her back, slim arms wrapping themselves round about her waist just below the brunette’s other arm.

“M-Minato-san?!” Sayo let out a high-pitched squeak she didn’t know she was capable of producing.

There was no reply, she only felt what she would assume was Yukina nuzzling her head against Sayo’s back. If Lisa’s affectionate hugs weren’t enough, Sayo did not quite know how she would deal with this. Her tenseness must have been apparent as Lisa whispered to her,

“Relax Sayo. Take a break. It’s okay to not do anything sometimes.”

She didn’t know how to respond to that, so she simply nodded, very conscious of the way she was sandwiched between her two bandmates, simply standing there. Doing no particular thing.

The lack of tasks unnerved Sayo the tiniest bit as she was used to always being productive no matter the hour- though maybe not as flustering as her hugging situation with Lisa and Yukina- but in the end, even she could not argue against the peace she felt when they all just stayed there, enjoying one another’s presence.

But it would have been a little more relaxing if Yukina and Lisa were not so busy killing her with their intense friendship and care. Sayo didn’t think her heart could take this much physical affection. She was surprised Yukina, of all people, was able to freely express it. Probably Lisa’s influence. And maybe Sayo was jealous of that ability to convey their thoughts and emotions with such liberty.

They remained that way, silent, otherwise unmoving with the exception of Lisa’s expert hands massaging the calm into Sayo’s body. Everything felt so surreal. She felt as though she wouldn’t mind drifting off in their embrace-

A jolt ran through her spine as she felt a ghost of a kiss pressed against her temple. And just as light, a touch of fingers gliding across her abdomen, causing her breath to hitch. ‘What were those?!’ Her eyes shot open, she didn’t know when they had shut, but now they were flicking about, the only thing she was able to see at the moment were brunette curls and smooth skin. She wanted to argue with herself whether or not what had just transpired was actually real, or just a figment of her imagination, but before she could do so a resounding ding of a kitchen timer cut through her brooding.

“I-I’ll… I shall… go. Get that… thing.” Sayo volunteered as a way to escape her mental tormentors. She awkwardly pulled away from the pair; Yukina more willing to allow her exit as she returned to her initial spot on the couch, but Lisa less so, the girl giving her a small pout before relenting, releasing the guitarist from her hold. Sayo would be lying if she said she didn’t suddenly miss the feeling of them and their gentleness wrapped around her.

But this was no time to think about that.

It was time to check on their cake in the oven!

Clumsily staggering around the marbled center of the kitchen, thoughts still swirling, Sayo stood in front of the hot oven, crouching down to check on the cake currently baking inside through the glass. It looked pretty ready. She guessed she could take it out. In her mind’s jumbled and rushed moments, she forgot to don her oven mitts, opening the stove with little care.

And at the moment she reached into the hot chamber, Roselia’s drummer suddenly came bursting through the front door with one of her chuuni war cries, surprising everyone including Sayo, causing one of her hands to hit the roof of the stove from the inside, and unconsciously holding it there for longer than she should have. It took a moment for her to register what had just occurred, but the sensation that she had come to know as pain- courtesy of her indicators- sunk in, her eyes opening wide in shock and she automatically voiced a yelp louder than she would have liked.

This immediately drew the attention of everyone in the room to her. With Sayo cradling a mitt-less hand close to her body, the fact that she had been checking on the cake, the smell that wafted in the air, and Ako’s prior yelling; Lisa pieced it together all too quickly.

“Sayo! Did you burn your hand?!”

With worry spreading amongst the group, Yukina got up from her place on the couch, walking towards the teal-haired girl who currently sported a look the mix of panic and fear.

“Ako! You shouldn’t have come in so roughly!” Rinko scolds, everyone momentarily thrown off by the smoothness of her speech and the absence of honorifics, probably due to her lack of shyness in her state of concern for Sayo. It kind of touched her heart, if she were completely honest.

But now wasn’t the time for that. She hadn’t meant to alert them, she needed to hide it before it was too late-

“Sayo, give me your hand.”

“I-I’m quite alright, Imai-san.” She stuttered out, retreating a step, back hitting the counter’s sink behind her. Her eyes widened a fraction more.

“No, No you’re not. I know it for a fact.” Lisa replied determinedly, reaching for the hand that Sayo stubbornly kept away.

“I really am-“

“Sayo, hurry, I know how much those burns can hurt and we need to run it under some cool water as fast as we can.”

“B-But-!”

It wasn’t as though Sayo feared getting wet. Her skin was waterproof after all. What wasn’t were some parts underneath it. The wires that functioned as her “veins” and nervous system. And even if her skin was made to withstand certain temperatures, it also needed to be as close to real skin as possible to not give herself away.

If the burn from the oven was enough to melt away those layers and expose part of her inner workings, she wouldn’t know how to explain it. Much more if she short-circuited in the event that there was indeed an opening and it was suddenly exposed to water.

She didn’t have the luxury of time to decide. Lisa caught her hand while she was weighing her options and quickly shoved it under running water.

It was cold. The pain temporarily waned, but most importantly for Sayo, the lack of forceful shut down helped her realize that she would be alright for now, seeing her hand was just a searing red with no openings whatsoever.

She sighed in relief.

“Thank goodness it wasn’t that bad” Lisa murmured, shutting the water and bringing Sayo’s hand up closer to inspect it. After a few moments of looking it over, she gave Yukina and an extremely down-hearted and apologetic Ako some instructions to retrieve the first aid kit down the hall, by the bathroom, while Rinko was tasked with doing the actual bandaging while Lisa took over the kitchen. Once Sayo was seated safely on the couch, as the cake was on the table, Lisa gave her head a single firm pat. “Alright, no more baking for you.”

“!!!” Sayo tried to protest. “But I want to help-“

“You’ve helped out enough.” Lisa cut her off firmly, arms crossed over her torso, a stern look in her eyes. “Let us take care of it.”

“But-“

“I’d prefer you sit on yours.” Lisa cleverly quipped, ending that particular conversation.

Sayo sighed in defeat, turning to watch Rinko as she expertly and neatly wrapped her hand in a bandage after having applied an ointment that would help with the pain and discomfort. Just as the girl looked up to check with Sayo if the job she did was alright, the teal-haired guitarist smiled at her. “Many thanks, as usual, Shirokane-san. You always help me out.”

Rinko mumbled out a long, strung-out, incomprehensible reply, face red as a tomato, but Sayo managed to make out a, ‘You’re welcome, Hikawa-san’, and that was enough assurance for her.

Shifting her gaze once more, she was met with Lisa’s head on, fiery gaze. And should Sayo dare say… jealous?

“How come I didn’t get any heart-felt thanks… I’m the one who-…” As the bassist continued to grumble in her corner of the kitchen, Sayo got up, strange bulk of confidence directing her actions as she stood in front of the sulking girl, looking down those few inches she had over Lisa.

“Eh? Sayo-“

Before she could say anything else, the guitarist had wrapped her arms around Lisa’s shoulders, the latter’s arms automatically finding purchase around taller girl’s waist.

“Thank you… Lisa.” She spoke in a near-whisper, though heard by everyone in the room due to how quiet they all were, mute from the surprise at Sayo’s assertiveness. Also the fact she called Lisa by her given name without honorifics.

That had certainly brought everyone’s thoughts to a screeching halt for a few seconds, trying to grasp the situation and its authenticity.

“I- eh- uh… y-yes? O-of course! Of course, Sayo-“ While Lisa was busy being a blubbering mess, Yukina had walked up to them and tugged on the hem of Sayo’s shirt. Arms still wrapped around Lisa, Sayo turned her head to the side to offer an inquisitive look.

“Minato-san?”

“…I must receive your hugs of gratitude as well.”

“…huh?”

“RinRin wants some too, Sayo-san!!! A-and… and if it’s okay, Ako would like a hug as well…” The youngest exclaimed.

Well, this cooking session certainly turning out to be what Sayo first expected it to be.

  //-//-//-//-//

  One might be wondering why Sayo, and Lisa- and supposedly all Roselia- were busy preparing cakes and cookies.

Well, when you place people with crazy ideas such as Kasumi in a room with an equally crazily enthusiastic Kokoro with the power to make those ideas a reality, you had… something quite amazing. The two had pouted up a storm when the band friend-group had to have separate Christmases with their respective families, and some with their own bands.

They had desired a ‘boppin’ party, as Hina put it (said sister of hers also being one of the perpetrators) after their joint holiday live, but the idea was immediately shot down. So, in order to appease these children, they all had agreed to free up the new year’s and have a party-slash-sleepover.

It was collectively agreed upon that they would not allow Kokoro to spoil them with everything, and they had divided the food tasks for the new year’s dinner. Roselia had been assigned the aforementioned cookies and a large strawberry cake. To make up for not getting to spend Christmas and eat the classic food together, as Kasumi claimed. In charge of desserts alongside them was Afterglow. Afterglow had made plans to do their prepping at Tsugumi’s café and they had chosen to make cupcakes, tarts, and some homemade icecream.

Popipa decided to pay a visit to Saaya’s bakery and have her dad prepare them some fresh pizza. Pasupare were assigned with drinks, and other little finger foods and snacks that were easier to acquire as they still had a few scheduled events up until the last minute. Raise A Suilen was chosen to buy the chicken. Chuchu wanted a turkey for unknown reasons, so they’d have that too. Pareo would most likely be the one behind all their prep, anyway.

Aside from food assignments, each band was tasked to come up with a party game; two to three members would then lead out the activity and the rest could participate.

These were the things they each had to prepare.

And prepare Roselia did.

“Ready to leave, everyone?” Yukina’s cool voice questioned, door held open for the others to walk through. Everyone was bundled up in their respective coats and scarves.

“Yes… Minato-san.”

“As one of the descendants of the five great dragon Lord-“

“Are you ready, Ako?”

“Yes. I’m born ready!” Ako giggled, running out the rest of the way, arms spread out in a T.

“Ako, be careful of slipping!” Lisa called from behind, and as if fate wanted to play a little trick, Ako slipped right then and there. Luckily, she hadn’t fallen over, and simply laughed, everyone else sighing in relief. “Geez, Ako…”

“I’m okay!”

Then… there was the last person. Sayo stood up from the step by the doorway after wearing her boots, looking around the area and her person to ensure she hadn’t forgotten anything. Once she was satisfied that she was all ready to go, guitar slung over her shoulder, she grabbed the fairly large cake box in her good hand, and then a smaller box of cookies, similar to what Rinko was carrying, in her bandaged hand.

As she exited, Yukina turned to lock the door, double-checking it a few times to confirm that it was indeed closed properly.

And then everyone began to walk to the station to get to Circle for their party. They had rented out the basement so that they would all fit and have a sizeable amount of space to move around.

Just as they exited the gate to Lisa’s house in single file, Sayo was slightly startled by a cool hand prying the cake away from her. The bassist gave her a small smile before replacing Sayo’s now empty hand with her own, squeezing gently. Right after that, the box of Cookies was taken away by Yukina, and the songstress had slipped her smaller hand into the tealettes’s other hand, intertwining their fingers.

Sayo knew with certainty that her face was dyed hot red despite the cold of the evening that was beginning to settle.

“So that your hands stay warm.” Lisa winked.

“Right… of course.” Sayo craned her neck forward, stiffly, fixing her eyes forward on the road. “Thank you.”

…and maybe it was a good thing they held her hands since she did a tiny slip on the road just moments after.

  //-//-//-//-//

  “Why… did the groupings end up like this?” Sayo muttered.

“Sorry, Sayo.” Lisa clapped her hands in front of her. “Since Ako’s nose started bleeding with how high her tension was, Rinko decided to sit this one out and look after her so that Tomoe could participate. And Yukina and I are the game masters, so every team was going to have about seven members each. And since Roselia was mostly out of the game, we decided to randomly draw lots for the teams…”

“Yeeeeyyyy~ We’re the guitar team!!” Kasumi cheered excitedly, cutting Lisa’s explanation short. “Isn’t that cool, Sayo-senpai?”

“Y-yes, sure.”

“Waaaahhh~ Moca sure is impressed by this coincidence.” As usual, the slothful member of afterglow drawled, casually slipping her arm around Sayo’s waist. “Though I guess it’s not so bad at all if Sayo-san’s here.”

“Eh…” Sayo was starting to think everyone was getting too comfortable around her, skinship and first-name basis and all those little things. Though she supposed some of those factors were old news for some people, and new for others. She was still slightly conflicted about it, though. She had never really allowed people so close to her space, but… she knew her reality was changing by the day.

And she didn’t necessarily hate it.

“If this group has two guitarists from Poppin Party…” Tae hummed in contemplation. “Then we have two times the Popipa energy?! Woaaahhh~”

“That’s right, Tae-chan! Double PopiPower!”

“I’d prefer we only have the minimal amount of that power.” Sayo grumbled to herself.

“On the same team as Popipa, on the same team as Popipa, ON THE SAME TEAM AS POPIPA… POPIPA!!!”

“Rokka-chan!” Kasumi and Tae screamed with as much enthusiasm in response to Rokka’s warcry of fangirling.

“Does that make it three times the PopiPower?” Moca asked Sayo, pointing at the trio, raising their arms up and down in some kind of cult ritual.

“Please don’t ask me that…”

“Ahh~ To be graced by the presence of a Rose, and all the other beautiful flowers in the garden, how blessed I am by my little kittens. Hakanai~!!”

“Kaoru-samaaaa!!!”

“This one is giving me a headache as well.”

“Oh, come on Onee-chan~ Don’t be all ‘Mugyuuuu’.” Hina poked at her side. “Aren’t you feelin’ boppin’ now that we’re on the same team?” She grinned, hugging Sayo from that same side, opposite of Moca.

Sayo looked at her sister’s hopeful eyes, their pressure from the pureness strong. She was rendered unable to deny those shiny greens. Heaving a sigh, she replaced her apprehensive expression with a gentle smile, deciding to be honest with her thoughts about her sister more often outside of their home.

“I suppose… I am a bit happy to be playing on the same team as you, Hina.” She replied, placing a hand atop the shorter girl’s head and giving the short teal hair a gentle ruffle.

There was a collective pause amongst the friend group as they saw this rare tender moment between the twins, hearts clenching at its wholesomeness. Luckily, Sayo hadn’t noticed, thus it didn’t become an awkward issue for her and the topic moved on.

Hina squealed in delight, tightening her hug around Sayo, clearly over the moon. “Onee-chan, I love you! You’re the best!”

“I’m- okay…”

“Eeeehhhhhh~, no fair! I want a hug from Sayo-senpai too!”

Sayo sure was giving a lot of hugs today it seemed.

“Me too!” Tae followed after her leader, joining in the stuffy group hug with Roselia’s guitarist at its core.

“Rare chance!” Rokka realized, diving into the opportunity.

“I wouldn’t mind giving my little kittens some loving-“

“I’d rather you not. Please just… do it normally.”

“…yes.”

As this scene between the guitarists of the bands unfolded, everyone else was just left to watch, unsure of what to do as Sayo was squished in the middle of this human hug pile.

“Oi.”

Well at least Ran might do something.

“I’m a guitarist too. Why aren’t I with you all?”

Maybe Sayo’s assumptions could be wrong more times than she thought.

“That’s because Ran is always left out~” Moca teased with an impish grin.

“You little sh-“

“Language!!” Tomoe hit the top of Ran’s head, and the two both started their bickering, Himari panicking, unable to stop them, and Tsugumi ending up mediating.

“Umm guys… can we start the multi-legged race now?” Lisa sighed at everyone’s antics, feeling like they weren’t going to get to the game any time soon.

“Don’t worry, Lisa.” Yukina placed a hand on her best friend’s shoulder. Lisa felt happy at the comfort, wondering what advice the white-haired vocalist would give in this situation. “This is also rock.”

Of course. This was also Yukina. What was she expecting?

  //-//-//-//-//

  The girls were able to get to the games… eventually. Surprisingly enough, despite their differences and eccentricities, the guitarist team- minus Ran- was able to stage quite the victory. Not only did they have crazily unrivaled coordination during the leg race, in the next game where each person playing was blindfolded and separated from their teams to try to reassemble via making a sound specific to their team to find each other… well Kasumi was like some kind of beacon or control tower, loudly screeching out what she told everyone was the guitar sound.

Yeah, no.

They won anyway, so… it was fine?

You’d expect the teams to shuffle for team games, considering each band had to prepare a game and have different game masters. And Sayo had been waiting for that moment. But her group never changed. None of them were chosen to be in charge of the games, and well… maybe she shouldn’t be surprised at that. She should probably be more relieved, actually. Things might just get out of hand if entrusted to these children.

So she waited for games with fewer people, or individual player games.

…but apparently all of the bands had decided on group games that would work better with bigger groups. Therefore, Sayo was stuck all night with the ragtag gang brimming with ‘PopiPower’.

Well, everyone seemed happy, so it wasn’t so bad. Sayo would think this with a secret smile as she watched over all her friends.

And as they gathered on the roof of the small building to finish off their little party by watching the fireworks that signified the start of the new year, Sayo found herself blessed to be surrounded by these girls, quirks and all.

And as Tsugumi, along with Tomoe and Pasupare tried to prevent Hina from falling off the edge, Sayo couldn’t help but think,

‘They’re crazy, but thank God for this crazy bunch.’

  //-//-//-//-//

  After everyone had finished cleaning and locking up Circle’s basement, they were picked up by Kokoro’s long-ass limo, everyone fitting comfortably inside. Even Chuchu was impressed, and that spoke volumes.

Upon arriving at her mansion, the suits escorted everyone with their sleepover bags to a large room with beanbags, blankets, pillows, strewn about; and futons neatly lined side by side.

“I call center spot!” Hagumi declared, rushing and jumping into the soft cushion.

“Then I wanna be next to you!” Kokoro imitated the motions, landing beside her ginger-headed friend. “Happy~!”

“Kokoro, Hagumi, you need to get washed up and changed first.” Misaki chided, walking over to where they were to usher them to the baths.

“Aww, okay.” The pair beamed, before Kokoro turned to everyone. “Let’s all get in together!”

“Hoo boy, that’s gonna be a whole ‘nother mess.” Arisa complained, rallying up her pair of idiots, along with Saaya and Rimi. “I just wanna get to bed. My back is starting to kill me.”

“There you go with your granny talk again, Arisa~”

“Shut up, Kasumi! Whose fault do you think that is?!”

Following the first two bands out were Afterglow and RAS, more civil and calmer in their exit, and Sayo was grateful for that.

“Shall we?” Yukina invited.

Roselia nodded their heads, grabbing their things and heading out.

  //-//-//-//-//

  Bathing time was rather uneventful, and many of the more level-headed members of the grouped offered their prayers of sincere gratitude that they were able to catch a break and relax in the Tsurumaki’s onsen-level baths.

After that, everyone shuffled sleepily to the bedroom, energy suddenly sapped out from each one of them. Kasumi yawned a contagious one, spreading to O-Tae, then to Rimi, then to the three grand fools of HaroHapi, then to Himari, Ako, and eventually it made its way through all the girls.

… except Sayo.

She looked around, at first finding it adorable how everyone was similar in this aspect having read about it before that yawning was quite contagious.

Then she realized that… she wasn’t like everyone.

She must have stalled in her walk, as Chisato seemed to notice, turning back to her curiously. “Sayo-chan? Are you alright?” The actress asked in concern, separating from her group and approaching the frozen guitarist. “You look… distressed.”

This caught everyone else’s attention.

“Eh? Sayo-san is?” Ako came bounding back towards her, taking her hands carefully in her own. “Sayo-san are you oka- ah! Your hands!” She seemed to realize as she held them. “Is your hand okay now?”

“Did something happen to Hikawa-senpai’s hand?”

“Ah~�� Lisa followed Ako soon after. “She accidentally touched the stove earlier and got a slight burn on her hand.”

“Eh? We didn’t notice.”

“Huh? But she had a bandage the whole ti-“ Lisa’s eyes narrowed, staring Sayo down accusingly. “Did you remove it at the party?”

With how she avoided the brunette’s gaze, everyone knew that hit the mark.

“Sayo!!!”

“It is not such a big deal, Imai-san. I felt fine, so I deemed it unnecessary to worry everyone else on such a joyous occasion.”

“Sayo, that’s not the point!”

“Hikawa… san.” Even Rinko frowned disapprovingly, and one by one, Sayo saw the sleepiness in everyone’s eyes replaced by concern.

She hated being the cause of it.

Bowing down in her perfect apology stance, she felt a churning in her stomach, along with her eyes stinging. They were body reactions she was not familiar with. Her mind said it was something like sadness and distress, but the data was mixing and meshing, and fighting. And once again she was confounded by the dreaded feelings. It made her all the more upset.

“Hikawa-senpai.” It was Misaki’s voice. Clear and breaking through the daunting darkness of her thoughts. “No one is mad at you, or blaming you. Okay?”

Sayo’s head shot up, those words clearing her mind as she met those concerned gazes once more, but there was less of that painful stir in her chest. A warmth was slowly overtaking the hurt, and she felt a flush of cooling run through her system.

“?!”

“Senpai?! Are you about to cry?!” Saaya’s question caused a bit of panic, everyone not knowing what to do when one of the steeliest personalities suddenly appeared to be on the brink of tears.

In a flash, before anyone else could react, bright colors filled Sayo’s vision, and she found herself in a situation she was now very accustomed to. A hug.

“When I feel sad, lonely, or when I’m crying, hugging always makes me feel better.” Hagumi murmured. “I want senpai to feel better too.” Sayo felt the movement of Kokoro’s head, assuming the girl was nodding her agreement.

It was warm. Everything, everywhere, it was just so warm. It wasn’t a scalding heat, it wasn’t the biting cold.

For the first time, she might have understood.

Sayo felt… loved.

Returning the hug towards the younger girls, Sayo felt a pleasant kind of prick in her heart as they beamed up at her.

“Ako-chan was right.”

“Mm-hmm! You really are a super comfy big sister!”

“No fair that Yukina-san and Lisa-san keep you all to themselves!” The two mentioned people tried to hide their blushes, but some of their sharper friends had picked up on it, curious at the reaction.

“Righttt?” Hina butted in. “Even though she’s supposed to be my Onee-chan!”

Sayo sputtered out a ‘what are you saying’, flustered all over again as the two released her, Rinko and Chisato taking their place, the former taking Sayo by her good wrist as they sat her down on a random bench in the mansion’s long halls, having acquired a kit from the suits. The rest were ushered into the room to get ready for bed and not overwhelm Sayo.

After treating her hand, the trio made their way into the room, finding everyone positioned and ready for bed, but still awake, attention at the door.

“Sayo.” Yukina called, patting a futon between her and Hina who was next to Lisa. The girl got the message, bowing her thanks to Rinko and Chisato who accepted with their usual grace.

As she made her way there, she noticed that she was at the center of all the laid-out beds, and this made her blush.

Kasumi seemed to pick up on it. “It’s the Sayo Protection Squad formation!” She chirped at the increasingly embarrassed guitarist.

“The… what-why?”

“Mou~ Enough questions!” Hina and Lisa pulled her down to bed, the younger Hikawa twin immediately locking the elder in place with her body.

“H-Hina… I can’t… I can’t move.”

“That’s the point dummy.”

Sayo relented eventually with a sigh, easing Hina’s body-lock into a cuddling position instead, something they were accustomed to at home, at least. Her younger sister was almost on top of her, but she hardly minded the weight.

From her peripheral vision, she noticed everyone moving their futons closer to hers, Lisa moving over to Hina’s as the twins were already practically sharing. As everyone wished their good nights and Happy New Year’s shutting off the lights, Sayo felt Yukina take her uninjured hand, cradling it close, while Lisa held the other, kissing over the bandage.

“Good night, Sayo. Happy New Year.”

Good night.

And a Happy New Year… everyone.

Thank you.

  A/N: D’awww, Sayo is well loved. I’m glad. Please leave some kudos, comments, reblogs if you’re on tumblr! Thank you for the support for this story! See you next chapter, and Happy new year!

~Shintori Khazumi

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

I’m back from shopping, so you know what that means....a report on Covid-19 behavior in rural Eastern North Carolina.

Do I have to tell you people aren’t following the guidelines worth a damn?

***sigh***

So at Walmart I’d say about 1/3 of people shopping did not have masks at all. Of the ten people going in ahead of me, eight didn’t wear masks. Someone was standing at the entrance offering masks, but if someone replied to their “Do you want a mask” with a “No” nothing else was said. There wasn't even a polite reminder that the store requires them. So obviously Walmart requiring them is rather meaningless. 

The percentage of people wearing masks in any of the stores never got any higher. Of those wearing masks, the majority wearing them wore them incorrectly. Considering how many had them on their chins or around their neck, I was almost glad for the ones with just their noses out. Almost.

Social distancing and following direction signs in stores will never be a thin pg here. In a good few rows in Walmart the direction markers were even missing or half worn out, but then a lot of them were already so far down rows you had to head down them to see them.

When it came time to check out at Walmart I ended up loosing my cool. 

To begin with, they had only two checkout rows open. The lines for those rows went out to fill the passage way before turning to overlap each other. The lack of social distancing in front and back now included people from the neighboring line inches away, standing there for long periods of time. Also, everyone trying  to walk through the front of the store had to weave in and out of the lines. 

This is not why I lost my cool. It wasn’t even because I had to stand their 40 minutes with my feet in agony (remember, thanks to flat feet I walk on my ankles and the ankles braces only offer so much help. What finally got to me was the conversation behind me.

The woman behind me, without a mask, and the woman behind her, with a mask on her chin, started out grumbling about checking out, which again didn’t bother me. Grumbling about giving the manager a talking to and grumbling that there are always different people checking people out (not sure why that bugged them) made no difference to me. Then they got onto Covid-19.

So now I’m standing there listening to these women being totally dismissive on the corona virus. “I’m not saying there isn’t a virus, but there is no reason to make a fuss” “A doctor in Greenville said that as long as you don’t have a weakened immune system you won’t even know you are sick.” “That doctor says it’s all just media hype trying to make us scared.” Etc.

I found myself getting angry. I knew lots of people around here felt that way, so I shouldn’t suddenly found my blood boiling. Maybe being tired and in pain made me grumpier. Maybe that hour long talk on the phone before I left where Mom and I talked about various things in the news, both agreeing that if can just outlive Trump it might be almost as good as living long enough for the next generation to make the world a better place, that wore me down. I dunno.

Finally one of them said “Masks don’t really do any good so there isn’t any point in wearing them.” And that is when I lost my cool... 

I turned around to the women and said “Well the masks won’t work if you don’t actually wear them over your face! And even if you get it and never feel sick, you can give to other people that might get VERY sick! THAT’S why you need to wear masks!” 

The woman with the mask on her chin that had just been quoting some doctor about how it was all hype now was muttering “That’s right!” And pulled the mask back up...even over her nose.

 I actually hadn’t expected her to do that. I was just at that point where you have to say something to willful stupidity endangering others. I never expected confrontation to help.

Now I don’t want to suggest that my whole trip was full of rage and maskless idiots. There were friendly people doing their best. I even managed a tiny conversation with “Groot Guy”, though I do worry I am inflicting myself on him. Even though I only bump into him every month or so, I can’t help but wonder if he regrets ever being friendly to this babbling customer. Mostly it wasn’t the most depressing trip ever...

But dang, this Covid-19 situation just gets more discouraging. If we can’t even get 50% of people properly wearing masks, and the ones not wearing masks increases even when they are required, I suspect all the people I chatted with who are looking longly to the time we go back to normal areon for a LONG wait.

I despair for the human race. 

If I get Covid-19 know that I always wore a mask, washed my hands, and tried to go out as little as possible. I was doing my best. Too bad so few other were....